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#i find that doing my long list of owed things in little chunks helps me from getting overwhelmed ;;
lunafaeris-archive · 3 years
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To-do list:
Head canon ask for Luna & Serina / @shackledsculs
Thread reply (a.k.a., on this episode of How I Met Your Mother) / @asaraltu
Naught-ee ask / @kiryuiegerin
And whatever else my muse/limited time span can manage before the weekend!
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mypoisonedvine · 3 years
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Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 2)
(part 1)
series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  
word count: 3k
chapter warnings: kinda smut? (male masturbation), stalking (not bucky lol), a bit a violence, angst
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It had been a month.  Well, 29 days, to be exact; he’d been counting them.  29 days since he’d seen so much more than he was supposed to, and he was pretty sure you’d seen him too.  29 days of tense silence as he wondered if you were ever going to say anything about it.
It must have been that you hadn’t seen him, if you hadn’t said anything for so long.  But god, it really did feel like you were looking right into his eyes as you came that night.  He knew the reality was that it was a horrible mistake and he was a terrible person for looking at you like that, and that he was never going to be any closer to you than watching someone else pleasure you; he knew that truly.  But regardless, that moment had been playing on repeat in his mind for 29 days.
And now, as he took his shower, he prepared to finish off day 29 and start day 30.
“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, head falling back against the cool tile as his hand stroked slowly over his cock.  He’d dreamt about you (again) and woken up so hard that it actually hurt; so this wasn’t a continuation of his perversion, or his unhealthy obsession, no, it was pain relief.  It was medicine, really.
In his dream, like always, it had been him between your legs in the back of the car and not that other guy— who he’d seen on TV the other day, dying in the first five minutes of an episode of some awful CW drama, by the way.  It killed him that he couldn’t know how you really taste, or how you really would sound saying his name, but the best guess of his subconscious would have to do.  He tried to conjure in his mind how you sounded that night, each frame of the memory burned into his brain until it was what he saw every time it closed his eyes.
Baby.
That was what you’d said first, and it still made his heart stop every time it echoed in his head.  Baby.
The word itself was sort of innocuous, but it was the way you said it— just below your breath, deep but airy— and what it meant.  It was a plea: you were begging him to touch you, to make you feel good, to help you.  Bucky could listen to you beg for hours, it would be like music to his ears; like poetry, even.  
Later that night, when he’d given you the rest of his sandwich, he’d gotten the closest he ever would to hearing you moan his name.  What you’d said originally was just ‘oh my god, Bucky, this is so good’ and it was just generic enough that he could imagine it being a little more specific.  Sure, it was stupid to get off on memories of you praising a sandwich (that you ate while drunk in the shower) but it still did wonders for him as his hand pumped his length faster and faster.
Oh my god, Bucky, it feels so good— you feel so good.  You’re so good.  Oh my god, Bucky—
He bit down on his lip, already so close to the edge that there was no turning back, toes curling underneath the stream of hot water as his breathing moved just as quick as his thoughts— thoughts of you in the back of the car, or in the shower with your foggy silhouette just barely visible to him, or doing all sorts of things that he’d never seen you do but he’d love to pretend he had.  
“Oh my god, Bucky!” you yelled as you swung open the door, a choked moan jumping out of his throat in shock as his eyes shot open, come starting to spill down over his hand.
You couldn’t see him through his shower curtain, thank all that’s holy, but it was a sort of sensory overload as he tried to process what was going on mid-orgasm.
“What?!” he yelped, voice clearly rougher but hopefully not in a way you would find suspicious.
“Come quick,” you requested.
Already did, he thought to himself with a shudder of guilt.
“What’s going on?”
“There’s somebody in the yard,” you explained frantically, “it’s probably nothing, but I don’t know how they got past the gate—”
Your mitigation was lost to him as he was already turning off the flow of water, the evidence of his misdeed already washed away, leaving only the ringing in his ears and the burning in his cheeks as reminders.
You stepped out into the hall to give him just enough privacy to slip on a robe, which he was certain he looked ridiculous in but he really had no choice.  Storming out of the bathroom, he wasn’t sure he was ready to confront a potential threat while dripping wet and barefoot, but the whole point of him living here most of the week was so he could keep you safe at all times— apparently, shower time included.  
“Stay inside,” he instructed you quickly, “and stay out of the line of sight of any windows and doors, got it?” 
You nodded, and he could tell you were scared.  He hated that you had to worry about this sort of stuff.  He was glad to be there to help, yes, but he would rather this line of work didn’t need to exist at all even if it put him out of a job.  You waited for him there as he pushed past you and moved through the living room, considering whether or not he should grab a weapon from the safe he kept hidden in this room— but then he glanced to his left arm, drying quicker than the rest of him, and remembered he already had a weapon.
By the time he reached the door he could hear someone shouting your name outside.  As Bucky flipped on the damn-near-blinding security light on your porch and entered the yard, he saw a guy— smaller than him, but not exactly tiny— who seemed to ignore him and the light completely as he continued his desperate attempts to get your attention.  
“This is private property, you need to leave,” Bucky told the man in his best ‘stern but not quite yelling’ voice. 
“Is she home?” he asked him instead, totally unfazed by the warning.  As the fan looked back up and called your name again, Bucky shivered with the realization that he was looking up at your bedroom window.  Had he already seen you there?  Or, worse, did he have some other way of knowing which window was your bedroom?
“You need to get out of here before I call the police.  You’re trespassing,” Bucky continued, pushing the man back towards the gate.  Sadly, Bucky knew from experience the police weren’t that concerned about celebrity stalkers— you and him had both called to no avail once they learned the name of the homeowner.  It made his blood boil just to think about it.
“Hey, let go of me!” the man resisted, pushing Bucky back.  He seemed to sober up a bit when Bucky’s face changed, though, but it was too late.  He tried to duck but totally missed, and Bucky’s right fist made contact with his jaw.  “Ow!” he screeched, cowering and trying to cover his face.  “What the fuck?!  That’s assault— you just assaulted me!”
“And you’re trespassing.  And harassing.  And probably stalking,” Bucky listed, continuing to guide the man back towards the gate.  “Tell me how you got in here.  Did you hop the fence?”
He couldn’t go any further back as the man was pressed back against a stone column, squirming a bit but otherwise putting up little fight— or maybe he was actually trying his best, and it was just lost on someone as strong as Bucky.  
Unamused by his stammering and lack of an answer, Bucky brought his metal fist to the column right beside the man’s face, hitting hard enough to break off a sizable chunk of the stone.  “Tell me!” he demanded.
“There’s a tree out back, I climbed it!” he explained with a whimper, “I’m sorry!”
“Don’t come back here, you hear me?  Or this—” Bucky pointed to the dent in the column that he’d made— “will be your face!”
Letting him go and swinging open the gate a bit, the man ran away of his own volition, stumbling down the street and out of the glowing light of the streetlamps.  Bucky let out a low sigh, hoping it was the last of him but terrified that it wouldn’t be.  He made a mental note to call a landscaper about trimming this mysterious tree in the back, or maybe chopping it down altogether, as he made his way back inside.  He found you in the living room, chewing your nails nervously and watching him step closer with wide, watery eyes.
“He’s gone,” Bucky informed you quickly.
“Thank you,” you mumbled.
“You okay?” he asked gently.
“Um, yeah,” you decided, but you didn’t seem so confident.  Even so, he wasn’t sure what more he could do.  
“Oh, I broke your pillar, by the way.  Sorry.”
“I saw that,” you smiled a little, but he frowned.
“I told you to stay out of sight of the windows,” he reminded you.
You sighed.   “I know, I know, I just…” you trailed off, lip quivering a little as you got emotional again.  “I know it’s stupid but—”
“No, don’t say that,” he interjected.
“— but I was so scared,” you finished, voice wavering as you ran towards him, suddenly pulling him into a tight hug.  It took him by surprise, but he figured it was okay to hug you back.  He was only wearing a robe, he suddenly remembered, and your face was against the exposed portion of his bare chest.  If he hadn’t gotten off just minutes ago, he certainly would’ve gotten hard just from that (embarrassingly enough).
“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothed gently, indulging himself in resting his chin on top of your head as he stroked your hair.  
“Thank you,” you mumbled against his skin, pulling him even closer, “god, I don’t even know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been here.”
A pang of guilt rattled in his chest; you trusted him so completely and he was crushing on you, spying on you (only the once, but still), taking advantage of your need for protection, staying in your guest bedroom and jerking off to you in your shower— when had he turned into an unstoppable pervert?
“Will you stay in my room tonight?” you asked him suddenly, looking up at him with those big shiny eyes and a pouty lip.
“Oh nonononono,” he shook his head, instantly recognizing that trap.
“No, Bucky, please,” you whimpered, “that guy might come back, I don’t want you all the way across the house.”
“I shouldn’t— I’d be overstepping—” he stammered.
“Please,” you sighed, and he sighed too, because when you said it like that, he couldn’t say no to you.
//
Bucky had insisted on staying on the floor as opposed to getting up on your bed, which was a drag but whatever.  At least you had a lot of good spare blankets and pillows to make him a comfy-looking pallet.  He seemed to agree when he appeared behind you in the doorway to find you on your knees on the floor, putting it all together.
“You didn’t need to do that, I’m pretty good at sleeping on floors as-is,” he dismissed.
“No, I’m happy to!” you beamed, turning around and choking a bit when you looked up at him in his pajamas.  Even though they were still pretty conservative, specifically sweats and a scoop neck sweater-y sort of top, it was probably more than you’d ever seen of him since his uniform was very concealing.  You were kind of hoping to catch a glimpse of his metal hand— you didn’t get to see it much because he wore driving gloves the vast majority of the time, and you hadn’t really been paying attention when it was exposed earlier by his just being in a robe— but he was noticeably leaning against the doorframe in such a way that you couldn’t see it.  The thing that really got a reaction out of you was his dog tags, though; you’d never seen him wear them before and there was something perfect about the way the silver chain dangled over the slight peek of collarbone visible above his neckline.  “Aren’t you warm wearing that much to bed?”
“No, it’s fine,” he dismissed.  You hoped he wasn’t wearing more just for your benefit.  Shirtlessness would’ve benefited you more, certainly.  In fact, now you felt kind of bad that you were just wearing a thin, silky short-and-tank set.  Hopefully it didn’t make him uncomfortable.
Getting up from the floor, you slipped under your covers and motioned for him to do the same.  He turned off your lamp first, stealing your last chance at a good view of the hand, and you heard him get comfortable on the floor.
“Thank you for this,” you mumbled quickly into the darkness.  “I don’t think I’d be able to fall asleep if you weren’t in here.
“Oh, of course,” he replied softly.  
“Goodnight,” you whispered.
“Goodnight,” he answered back, and his low, sleepy voice was somehow both soothing and energizing.
You weren’t sure if you even tried to fall asleep, or how long you laid staring out into the void of the darkness.  It was so dark in your room that you saw purple spots dancing in the corners like static as your eyes adjusted, incomprehensible shapes forming to make up for the lack of visual stimulation.  You wished that there was enough ambient light to be able to see Bucky’s shape on the floor and know he was there; instead, you settled for the subtle sound of his slow breathing.  When you heard him adjust slightly, you decided maybe just the breathing wasn’t enough to be sure it was really safe.
“Bucky?” you whispered under your breath.  “Are you awake?”
“Yes,” he answered, making you sigh with relief.
“I can’t sleep.”
“I thought you said you wouldn’t be able to sleep if I wasn’t here.”
“But I never said you being here would make me sleep,” you pointed out.
“Then I should go,” he decided.
“No, please,” you hissed, “don’t go.”
“Okay.”
You took a deep breath.  “Tell me something,” you requested.
“Tell you what?”
“I don’t know, anything.”
He paused for a moment.  “Will it help you sleep?”
“Maybe,” you shrugged.
Bucky sighed, and you heard him turn on his side.  “Want me to tell you a bedtime story?” he asked, sarcasm noticeable even in a whisper.
“Yes,” you announced with a smile.
“Okay,” he pondered, “um… once upon a time—”
“Good start,” you rolled your eyes.
“No interrupting!” he scolded.
“Sorry…”
“Anyways, once upon a time there was a princess, who lived in a castle in the Isle of Manhattan.”
“A castle?” you asked excitedly.
“A somewhat modest castle, but yes.  One with big golden gates and marble columns.  The princess didn’t live all alone in her castle though— at least, not all the time.  She had many royal attendants, and servants, and plenty of friends of course.  But the problem with being a beautiful, kind, generous princess is that sometimes people get too friendly and want to visit her in the castle when she’d rather be alone.  Thankfully, the princess had a last line of defense—”
“Let me guess, a knight in shining armor?”  Or more like knight with shining arm.
“Wish I could say so,” he disagreed.  “No, this princess needed something a little fiercer, and that was why a dragon guarded the castle.”
“A dragon?!”
“Mhmm.  A big, scary dragon with sharp teeth and big wings, that breathed fire on anyone who got in his way.  The thing about knights is that they’re noble, and handsome, and righteous.  But righteousness prevents people from doing bad things, and sometimes bad things need to be done to protect good things.  So, knights can’t protect princesses like they should.  That’s what dragons are for.  They’re mean and nasty— it’s their nature, after all— and sometimes you need somebody burnt up, so you call a dragon and he’ll deal with it for you.  And this dragon was the meanest and nastiest of them all, and he’d burnt a lot of people in his time.  Oddly enough, the princess was still nice to him, but she had a lot of knights and princes and kings who wanted her hand.  Good thing the dragon was there to pick off the worst ones.”
You giggled a little, even though your heart was racing.
“The dragon watched over the castle every night— well, five nights a week… cause the princess wanted weekends to herself— but, still, he was very dedicated and did his best to keep her safe.  Sometimes he would take her to whatever lavish ball she had been invited to that week; she would ride on his back as he flew there, even though he was pretty scared she would fall off or something.  And sometimes…”
Your breath caught at the pause, waiting anxiously for what would come next.  
“Sometimes the dragon wished he wasn’t a monster.  But if he wasn’t a monster, then he couldn’t keep her safe.  So, he resigned himself to a life outside the castle, because at least he could be near her— even if she was impossibly far away.”
You swallowed as you tried to process it, finding yourself at a complete loss for words.
“The end,” he whispered gently, before giving you a goodnight and saying your name in a way that he’d never said it before— at least, you’d never heard him say it that way before.  But you really, really hoped you’d get to hear it again.  You did manage to fall asleep eventually, dreaming about flying and wishing you didn’t have to wake up.
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tailorvizsla · 4 years
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You didn't think I wouldn't ask for some Boba Fett though now did you? (Of course not, he is the new shiny for me iuwhei) ✨ HC Of my Choice... What about having your first kiss with Boba and he doesn't #know it is your first one till part-way through or after? Am I projecting? Yes, yes I am.
Title: HC – Boba Fett and First Kiss Pairing: Gender neutral Reader x Boba Fett Word Count: ~1700 Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Boba Fett is a grumpy bastard, but you hold your own against him. Boba also gets injured, but there aren’t any graphic descriptions of the injuries. Author’s Notes: Okay, my Angle, I’ve been thinking about this one for as long as it’s been sitting in my inbox. I’m not familiar with Boba Fett’s character, so I wanted to make sure this was good for you. So, without further ado, here we go with the Big Green Grumpy Jerk who has somehow inexplicably charmed his way into my heart with a few gruff comments.
Tagging @princessbatears because chaos? :>
📚 My Master List 📚
Boba Fett isn’t a man of many words. It’s not that he’s shy or anything – he just doesn’t like talking to people beyond what is necessary. He has worked alone his entire life, so the sound of others’ voices just sort of grates on him. He especially does not like being crowded by people.
So, one day, while doing his thing, he ends up injured. It’s not even due to combat. His jetpack just…sputters out. His beskar’gam turns what should have been a fatal fall into a very painful one. He knows he has broken a lot of bones, but Boba refuses to die like this. He crawls his way back to his bike, calls for medical aid, and prays to the Maker that someone in town will come help him.
You are the only person who does come to help him. Most other people are too afraid of the Imperial remnants to work with a Mandalorian. Others are too afraid of Mandalorians to work with a Mandalorian. You? You are not afraid of much. He is not sure if you are brave or stupid. After splinting the worst of the damage, you get him onto the bike and get him back into town. It is at this point that Boba finds himself leaning toward thinking you are stupidly caring and trusting.
You inject him with bacta – the good kind that makes him giggly, sleepy, and numb – and get to work. When he wakes up, he’s wrapped in an annoying number of casts and splints, but at least he’s still alive. However, you then give him the bad news: the fall has damaged many of the delicate nerves in his back. If he fails to undergo physical therapy, there is a real chance he may never walk again. He’s no medical expert, but when he looks at the scans you took, he knows you aren’t lying.
So, Boba resigns himself to having to deal with you on a regular basis. The first physical therapy exercises are simple, yet they exhaust him to the point where he just passes out. As the days go by, he starts putting up the walls to keep you out. (Spoiler alert: you manage to find your way through the cracks in the wall, annoying him with barely any effort on your behalf.)
Now, under ideal circumstances, this shitshow would end with Boba Fett getting back on his feet, paying you handsomely for the amount of time you have spent getting him put together, and going back to bounty hunting, never to think of you again. But of course, the universe throws an even bigger wrench into his carefully thought-out plans. Someone finds out that you’re taking care of him and a whole bunch of angry townspeople converge on your little clinic. He grabs you and the two of you run. The last thing you see is your clinic going up in flames. (Boba can’t believe the shortsightedness of these people – they’ve driven off their only competent medical professional. What are they going to do next? Kill their only competent mechanic? Di’kute, every last one of them.)
And so, the two of you go off on a merry adventure, annoying the absolute shit out of each other on a regular basis. Boba especially is concerned at how easily you have managed to find every single weak point in his defenses – physical, mental, and emotional. You are a fair shot with your blaster, so when he got fresh with you that one time, telling you that your ass looked downright edible in the trousers you had borrowed from him, you drew your blaster and fired a shot off at his feet. He laughed so hard his bucket nearly fell off. (You are not sure if you are disturbed that he finds being shot at amusing. He does scold you a bit, but you do notice that he does not talk about your ass anymore.)
With your knife? You’re lethal, and he learns that the hard way when he fails to announce his presence behind you. One moment Boba is reaching to touch your shoulder and the next moment, he’s got your elbow in his face and your penknife embedded in his flak vest. Fortunately, the blade’s too short to cause serious damage, but he does not let you forget that you kriffing stabbed him when he was only trying to ask you what you wanted for dinner.
Even though Boba would rather cover himself in tiingilar sauce and crawl back into the sarlacc pit headfirst than ever admit it, the two of you make a damn good team. He goes off to hunt bounties, you stay in town to provide your medical services for a fair fee. Sometimes, when your services are not needed, you’ll hang back at the ship and do some basic accounting to keep him within his budget.
Boba grumbles when you ask to accompany him on a hunt, but he figures you really do need to learn how to defend yourself if anything should happen to him. When the two of you were surrounded by goons, you naturally fell into place behind him, your back to his, covering his shebs while he provides the heavy firepower. When the numbers are thinned to something more manageable, he sets you loose on them, letting you practice your knife skills. And by the Maker, he is impressed with how much you have improved since the last time you stabbed him.
Between hunts, you get his shebs back into fighting shape. Hell, he thinks he’s even better than he was before. The exercises you insist on forcing on him have made him more flexible than he was before, and his bones no longer creak first thing in the morning. One particularly hot, muggy day, you try to make him drink that vile green vegetable concoction you call a smoothie. Smooth his shebs, there are chunks in that liquefied animal feed. Sometimes he wonders if you’re trying to kill him on purpose.
(You don’t know this, but Boba has already arranged for everything in his possession, ships and banking accounts included, to be transferred to you in the event of his death. Hell, he has even started negotiating with a friendly Tribe to make sure you have a home to go to and your pick of their warriors for marriage, should you be interested. Boba justifies it this way: the last time his jetpack mutinied, he ended up several hundred thousand credits in debt to you by his estimation. By ensuring you have a safe place to go, and a family ready to welcome you, he can offset the immeasurable debt he owes you. It hurts to think of this, but Boba genuinely cannot bear the thought of you being alone in this cruel galaxy, the same way he had been when he was a child. So, if he ever does piss you off to the point where you off him in his sleep, you’ll be fine.)
You keep pushing and pushing, insisting that he needs B-vitamins or some other bantha-shit he’s sure you’ve made up for the sole purpose of annoying him. When you start going on about macronutrients and essential vitamins, Boba loses it. He tosses his cutlery down and goes stomping off toward the cockpit. You follow him, blathering on and on about the last blood panel you had pulled – HDLs, LDLs, and a whole slew of acronyms later, he loses it. Rather than snap at you, he shuts you up the only way his poor sleep-deprived brain can come up with.
Boba pushes you up against the wall, gently to avoid hurting you. You don’t seem at all phased. In fact, you start waving the paper at him as you try to draw his attention to his sodium levels. Boba leans in and presses his lips to yours. You finally stop talking, your entire body going stiff in response. He takes a moment to nibble along your lower lip before parting your lips with his, tongue probing a bit deeper in, and you still aren’t responding. Boba draws back and stares down at you. You’re wide-eyed and clearly in shock.
He leans in again. This time you respond clumsily, your hands clutching at that stupid piece of paper. He gently wrestles it out of your grasp and crumples it up. Then he tosses it over his shoulder, not caring where it lands. He cups the back of your head and deepens the kiss. Still, you’re not responding the way he wants, so he draws back.
“What, never been kissed before?” he asks.
Before he can say anything else, he realizes that that was your first kiss. While Boba has never wanted to be anyone’s First Anything, he realizes that he wants to make an exception for you. There’s no one in this entire galaxy who can annoy the shit out of him in one breath and then worry about his health in the next. You are his little baar’ur. After you have wormed your way under his plating and so selfishly made yourself a fixture in his life without his permission? Oh, no, no, you are not going anywhere.
He cuts off your stammering with another kiss. He takes this one slow, moving your hands to where he wants you to touch him – one at his nape, the other at the small of his back, right over that spot that makes his knees weak.
This time, you respond. Slowly, hesitantly, but as you grow more confident, your hands begin to stray. You worm your fingers up the back of his shirt and dig your nails into the sensitive skin there, making him gasp in pleasure. Then you dig your fingers into his long hair and tug lightly, earning a low growl from him. You freeze and stare up at him with wide eyes until he leans back in.
Fortunately, your big smart science brain learns his likes and dislikes very quickly. When he finally pulls away, he finds that he really likes what he sees – your shirt’s rumpled, your hair is sticking up, and your lips are red and swollen from his kisses. Then and there, he makes a vow to make sure you always look like a mess.
(Spoiler alert: quite a few more of your firsts happen right here in the cockpit.)
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tinyboxxtink · 3 years
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"Doppelganger" *Part 24*
Alright I REFUSE to make this story any longer, so the next chapter IS the finale, I swear to you.
This is just one more little loose end I wanted to throw in, maybe it'll come back around the epilogue. Who knows?! I know.
I would have started the "Wedding Day" here but I really wanted it to be it's own chapter, so this is kinda short and I'm not gonna lie if I have to I will make the last chapter 20 pages long to fit the ending in. That being said I have some stuff to do tomorrow night and work the next night so I may or may not split up writing the last chapter between those and post it late Sunday or Monday.
It's worth it I promise! I'll make it worth it.
Part 23
Finale!!
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-------
The next day Rafael asked you to come by his office once again, making you nervous. Especially when you showed up to the Mayor and a Lawyer to greet you along with Rafael.
“Pinguino,” Rafael smiled as he met you at the door with his arms open wide pulling you into a kiss.
“....More interviews?” You whispered as you eyed the two other men.
“Actually, they haven’t told me what they’re doing here yet,” Rafael whispered back as you both walked over to the men sitting at Rafael’s desk. Rafael pulled another chair around to his side so you could sit next to him. He had a feeling this would take a while.
“So...gentlemen,” Rafael cleared his throat. “What’s this about?”
“Well Barba it’s about your wedding,” The mayor replied.
“...Why am I not surprised..?” He shook his head with a laugh.
“Actually Mr. Barba I think you’ll find this visit different from others the mayor here has sprung on you thus far,” His lawyer answered.
“...And that would be because…?” Rafael raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Because Mr. Fenkell here says that I owe you financial compensation for all you’ve been doing for me,” The mayor replied rather gruffly as he crossed his arms like a petulant child being called into the principal’s office.
“...Excuse me?” Rafael looked at both of them with confusion.
“Well Mr. Barba, I’m surprised you haven’t either realized or brought up the fact that the situation that you’re in is called ‘quid pro quo’,” The lawyer explained.
“Yes I know what ‘quid pro quo’ is counselor, we went to the same law school,” Rafael snarked. “And I graduated with higher honors than you,”
“Barba I’m here trying to help you out, I don’t know why you’re lashing out at me,” The lawyer now crossed his arms.
“Baby,” You put a hand on his. “Just let the man talk,”
“Right,” He nodded reluctantly. “Go on,”
“Like I was saying,” Mr. Fenkell pulled out papers from his briefcase. “I assume you and your fiancée here have been going along with the Mayor’s requests for fear of losing your job, correct?”
“I mean, not mine per say,” Rafael shrugged. “THAT would be illegal,”
“Right,” Mr. Fenkell nodded. “But everything he’s done thus far involving you and your fiancé's likeness entitles you to royalties, and dues for services,”
“Well, that is true,” Rafael nodded. “I’ve been so preoccupied with everything else I haven’t even stopped to think--”
“Which is exactly why I’m here,” Mr. Fenkell cut him off. “I figured a competent lawyer like yourself would realize when all the dust settles, that you were indeed entitled to a sum of money, and would therefore sue the Mayor after the fact,”
“Wow, that’s a lot of assuming on your part sir,” You laughed softly. “You really think Rafael is that shit of a--”
“I mean he is right,” Rafael finished for you.
“...Or I’m just an idiot,” You muttered.
“No, baby you’re not an idiot,” Rafael took your hand. “But we are entitled--YOU are entitled for some kind of compensation for all that you’ve done for the mayor--for me,”
“I thought my compensation was getting to marry you,” You smiled sweetly.
“Aww,” Mr. Fenkell remarked, causing an eye roll from the mayor.
“Right so--” Mr. Fenkell began laying papers filled with legal jargon on the desk in front of you and Rafael.
“This contract states that once we settle on a number, you won’t try and collect more from the mayor with some random claim like ‘emotional distress’ during your wedding, or events thereafter due to all of this,”
“...Trauma?” You couldn’t help but laugh. “You think that after everything I went through, I would classify this as trauma?”
“I mean theoretically you could, Ms. Y/L/N,” He nodded. “The emotional stress of reliving your trauma and trying to plan a wedding while on display for the whole city must be taking a toll on you right now, is it not?”
“...Well it wasn’t until you said it like that,” You muttered.
“Dammit Maxwell I told you, they were perfectly fine with--” The mayor began to pitch a fit.
“Oh no no no,” Rafael wagged a finger at the mayor. “Just because she’s ignorant of the--”
“Excuse you?” You crossed your arms at Rafael’s condescending tone.
“I mean, just because she doesn’t realize or recognize the emotional stress she’s under doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have it, and doesn’t deserve compensation” He looked to you apologetically while he re-worded the statement. You gave him an approving nod.
“Right well this is what this is for--”
“And what kind of price tag have you put on my fiance's feelings, counselor?”
“Well if you’ll peruse the contract, counselor…” Mr. Fenkell pointed to the bottom of the paper.
“This contract blah blah blah, no further seeking monetary blah blah blah…” Rafael spoke out loud as he scanned the document. Then suddenly, his eyes widened and he stopped reading, looking at you then Mr. Fenkell then the Mayor.
“...A million dollars?” He raised his eyebrow, skeptical.
“...What?” You gasped.
“....Each,” He added with a smile as he handed you the paper. You didn’t know a lot of the words, but in plain black and white you read: “...In the form of one million dollars per plaintiff,”
“I’m sorry, WHAT?” You said louder than you intended, but that was insane.
“That’s insane,” You said out loud. “I don’t need that kind--”
“Baby,” Rafael stopped you and pulled you slightly away from the mayor and his lawyer. “I know that you get antsy when good things happen to you, but you deserve this,”
“For what?!” You hissed. “For taking a few photos? For letting a camera crew in a church? Rafael I just--”
“...But think of everything before that, carino,”
“What, Nevada? That--” You shook your head.
“Wasn’t your fault,” Rafael finished.
“...Well it wasn’t the mayor’s fault either, Raffi,” You nodded at the mayor.
“But he is exploiting you for it,” Rafael pointed out.
“....True,” You nodded.
“Excuse you two, but I--” The mayor began to rant again.
“And if I may add,” Mr. Fenkell jumped in. “While Mr. Barba was worried about his job, you also had reason to be worried about it as well. Being as he is your only means of support,”
“Right now,” You quickly added.
“....Right,” Mr. Fenkell gave you a side eye. “Currently,”
Clearly this douchebag thought what everyone else must be thinking. That you were just marrying Rafael for his money. So that you could be a ‘kept’ woman. Well, he was about to learn that was the furthest thing from the truth.
“Alright then,” You finally said. “Then I want my share to go to Rafael, if we’re going to be married it’s his anyway,”
“No no no no, Nuh-uh,” Rafael shook his head. “Your share is your share,”
“...But I don’t want you to think that I’ve got some... ‘escape money’,” You gave him a sad look.
“Escape money?” He laughed. “Baby I told you, I think the last thing I should be worried about is you leaving me,”
“....Also true,” You nodded with a soft smile. You sure as hell had not gotten this far working this hard to ‘get’ Rafael to just give him up. Ever.
“Okay then, do I tell you where I want the money to go or do I do it myself?” You asked Mr. Fenkell.
“...You already have plans for it?” Mr. Fenkell asked you. “...Didn’t you just say you didn’t want it? Why would you--”
“Just answer the question,” You said flatly.
“I mean Mr. Barba could just draw up the contracts and paperwork for you to transfer your funds wherever you--”
“But Mr. Barba is my husband, not my lawyer,” You cut him off. “...And I’d like to keep that way,” You looked over at who Rafael looked at you in confusion.
"Not Mixing business and pleasure," You smirked.
“Right,” Mr. Fenkell nodded as pulled out a legal pad and a pen. “Well I can make a list of where you want to divert the funds and we’ll go from there,”
“Okay,” You took a deep breath. “Well, first of all-- obviously,” You took Rafael’s hand. “I want to pay off the rest of my time at Julliard,”
“That’s unnecessary, carino--”
“Yeah I know you say that Rafael, but I was going there before I met you and it’s not your respon--”
“It’s already paid for, in full,” He spoke over you.
“...What?” You asked him with a breathy voice. When did he have time to do that?! WHY-wait.
“But I’m going to need an extra semester since I’m taking the rest of this one off,” You said softly as you glanced at the other two in shame. You still felt guilty about Rafael having to basically babysit you for the past few weeks.
“Yeah I figured that.” He nodded with a smile, stroking your cheek. “It’s all taken care of, carino,”
“...Alright fine then I want to pay it back,” You insisted.
“No,” He shook his head. “Absolutely not,”
“Rafael come on--”
“NO,” He repeated sternly. “I won’t take it,”
“....Alright, fine,” You rolled your eyes. “Then I want a chunk to go to abuela--”
“No I have them covered too,” He shook his head. “And they are definitely NOT your responsibility. And before you say next that you want it to go to Maria, she will never accept it. We're too proud of a people," He smiled teasingly.
“...Fine,” You sighed in frustration. “THEN I want a chunk of it to go to opening a drama center,” You crossed your arms and looked at Rafael. “Any objections to that, counselor?”
“...A drama center?” He looked at you curiously.
“Look,” You took both of his hands. “I know you couldn’t-- your mom didn’t want you---” You took another breath, trying to figure out exactly what to say. “...You had to give up your dream to take care of your family,”
“Carino…” He took your hand.
“And my parents, they spent all the money we had on dance lessons, acting lessons, all of it. On ME. Just so that I could live my dream,” You continued. “Kids should be able to dream their dreams without their parents having to worry about money to do so,”
“But...your dream, Y/N. You want to be on Broadway. How are you gonna fit--” He started to speak but you were nowhere near done with your speech.
“Baby my dream was selfish,” You shook your head. “I wanted to be famous for the wrong reasons. To be adored by the world, to be loved by everyone. But, now I know the only person’s love I care about, is yours,” You stroked his face.
“If I open this place then I can still use my talents as a teacher, helping kids like us. I told your mom that when I met you, you made me a better person, that you made me want to be better. I want that to be true. I need that to be true,” You finally finished with a small smile, tears lined Rafael’s eyes.
“You are the best person I know, mi amor,” He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think the center is a great idea,”
“Good,” You smiled. “And….I want to name it the Y/L/N-Barba Drama Center,”
“....Well obviously after you,” He nodded.
“No,” You shook your head. “After you. And my parents. Because if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t have found you, and you gave me everything I’ve ever wanted,”
“I love you,” He beamed at you as he kissed you deeply.
“...And on that note,” You turned back to Mr. Fenkell who looked wildly uncomfortable by your little cutesy side conversation.
“I want the rest to be split between a savings account for me, and the other half into a trust,”
“A trust?” Mr. Fenkell asked as he wrote down your wishes.
“A trust for our children,” You smiled at Rafael. “My parents spent so much money so that I could live my dream. I think it’s only fair I do the same for them; especially when I have the means to do it,”
“See those redneck shithead Jersians have no idea what they’re talking about,” He pressed his forehead against yours. “You are not selfish, not at all,”
“Thanks to you,” You pressed your own forehead against his like a love head butt.
“....Okay, so is there anywhere else you’d like it to go, Ms. Y/N?” Mr. Fenkell said rather loudly, trying once again to remind you there were other people in the room. People who were not amused with your disgustingly cute conversations.
“Um, no I think that’s good,” You nodded.
“Split up mine the same way, Max,” Rafael added.
“Rafael you don’t need to--” You started to protest but he put a finger to your mouth.
“I have money,” He assured you. “I have enough money to take care of us for the rest of our lives. This money should go somewhere that represents the both of us, and our love,”
“Can we please for the love of God just end this, please?” The mayor groaned. “If I have to sit here and watch you word vomit your love all over this office, I might actually vomit,”
“Right,” Rafael rolled his eyes. “Well gentlemen you know where to find us,” He grabbed the pen and signed one of the contracts then handed it to you and you did the same.
“Now if you’ll excuse us we’re going to ‘love vomit’ all over each other now,” He smirked as he handed back the papers. Mr. Fenkell and The mayor nodded as they walked out.
“Well, what do you want to do now?” Rafael wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“As tempting as that sounds, I have another request mi amor,” You played with the hair on the back of his knuckles with a soft voice.
“Anything for you pinguino,”
“Well I mean, you have some pull over there,” You nodded outside towards the courthouse that was attached to the DA's office by a hallway.
“...Why, do you need parking tickets dismissed or something? Did I agree to marry a felon?” He teased you.
“No,” You giggled. “But I would like to skip the ‘name changing’ line,” You pulled him closer as his smile grew bigger.
“I don’t think that’s what they call it, but I appreciate the sentiment,” He kissed you as you both walked towards the door of his office and out into the lobby.
“We’ll be back, Tommy,” He told his assistant.
“Right sir,” He nodded.
“This way to the ‘name changing line’, pinguino,” He smirked as you walked down the hall towards the courthouse.
------
--An Hour Later--
You and Rafael walked out of the courthouse and down the steps hand in hand as you pulled the two papers from his hands. One was a marriage license, and one was a form that was filled with boring legal jargon but at the bottom was printed: “Legal Name: Mrs. Y/F/N Barba,” with your new signature on the dotted line.
“Mrs. Rafael Barba,” You smiled as you looked at the paper.
“Oh no no no,” Rafael shook his head with a laugh. “That sounds like you’re my property, pinguino,”
“True,” You nodded with a teasing smile.
“...So why the sudden urgency to change your name, carino?” He asked as you walked down the street hand in hand. “Not that I’m complaining. I'd be lying if I said just looking at your name with my last name makes me giddy,”
“Giddy?” You gave him a look.
“Yeah, I said it. Giddy,” He laughed.
“...I don’t know, it was something that my therapist said,” You shrugged.
“...And what did she say?” He asked you skeptically.
“She said,” You sighed and pulled Rafael out of the flow of traffic of people.
“She said that women who don’t take their husband's last names had one foot out the door of the marriage before even going in,” You looked up at him with soft eyes. “And I don’t want you to think that I am any less than 100% sure of my love for you, and the rest of our lives together,”
“Well, first of all I’d like to see her marriage to divorce ratios based on that assumption,” He rolled his eyes. “And second-- I appreciate the sentiment baby, I really do. Just as long as you did it for you, and not because your therapist guilted you into it,”
“She didn’t,” You assured him. “I did this for me. For us,”
“Well then Mrs. Barba,” He took your hand once again with a huge smile. “Let’s grab some dinner, shall we?” He asked in a melodramatic, fancy tone.
“We shall, Mr. Barba,” You answered in the same tone, making both of you giggle like school kids.
Now all that was left to do was actually get married!
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actualbird · 4 years
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nobody asked but here is every unraveled episode (as of may 2020) as how they’d be as a lover | a 2.5k word long post written in the style of an unraveled about unraveled and also love
Ah. Unraveled. Polygon’s golden boy of a video series where Brian David Gilbert is beckoned into a suit, lured into a blackbox studio, and is only granted escape after he has explained to three cameras whatever batshit video game adjacent thesis he has been cursed with this time. Unraveled is a wonderful video series, and we all love it.
But what if it could love us?
If you’ve ever asked this question to yourself, boy, do I have some content for you, because for the past 2 days, I’ve been working on this post where, for entirely too long, I explain to you how each Unraveled episode would be as a lover. And more importantly, which ones would be the best lovers.
Before I fall deep into this unhinged hole and take you down with me, I need to explain some things.
First: I want to make it clear that I am not categorizing BDG as he portrays himself in each Unraveled. I am instead taking each Unraveled episode as a fully formed being, the story, performance, etc, and letting that shape a character of its own. This character is where I extrapolate details from to create an Unraveled episode’s qualities as a lover. What I’m basically doing is anthropomorphizing Polygon dot com video content. And then making you date them. If this doesn’t make sense, don’t worry, it will as you read along. And if it helps you to visualize the Unraveled Episode As A Lover, I invite you to just imagine whomever it is you are most attracted to---or for those who don’t experience attraction, whomever it is you find most aesthetically pleasing---and then just add in the wild personality traits I describe through the course of this post.
Second: I know what you’re thinking. “Avian, the characteristics of what makes a good lover is subjective!” And I wholeheartedly agree. I’ve been through college, and I’ve witnessed my friends whom I love so dearly enter relationships with some of the most wack ass motherfuckers I’ve ever met. I know that people are into different things. But do I judge them for it? Well, kinda, yeah! Yes, what we want in a lover is subjective, but I’ve consumed a metric fuckton of romance media over the course of my life and am also in a wonderful relationship with my own girlfriend, and thus have my own personal idealized ranking for what makes a good lover. Feel free to disagree with my rankings of Unraveled Lovers, but also, I’m writing this post. I say this with as much love as I possibly can, but if you disagree with me, make your own post. If you don’t wanna make your own post, you’re just going to have to trust me for 2.1k more words.
With that out of the way, let me take you on a journey through the 23 Unraveled Lovers, from worst to best.
BAD TIER: I would probably advise you to break up with these Unraveled Lovers as soon as you are emotionally capable of doing so.
Hoo boy, we’re starting at the bottom. The perfectionists, the nitpickers, the emotionally unavailables. These Unraveled Lovers would have good intentions, but just have aspects within their personality that will wear you and your relationship together down until both of you can no longer take it.
“Ranking all 200+ Megaman robots” is a lover obsessed with the concept of “is this worth it?” They would unknowingly but inevitably rank parts of your own personality on a scale of ‘worth the trouble in this relationship’ and ‘not worth the trouble’. Any lover who deals with you with this kind of dichotomy is somebody you should not be with. You should be accepted and loved for all your parts, the beautiful and the ugly.
“How to make the perfect E3 press conference” is a lover who spent years consuming romance media and has a list of what makes the perfect relationship. So not only do they have unrealistic expectations for what a relationship is, but they will be obsessed with reaching that unreachable perfection. That will definitely put a strain on your relationship until the veneer of desired perfection crumbles away, leaving you both tired and sad.
On a less deep note, “How to tell apart all 596 Fire Emblem characters” just won’t remember any of the names of your friends or family. Sure, they’ll try, but they’ll give up in like 15 minutes and you’ll never be able to take this Unraveled Lover to a family reunion or a party with your friends. Probably not a dealbreaker, but as the Spice Girls said “If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends.” This Unraveled Lover will not. Next.
“No one asked but I found Mortal Kombat’s best cuddler” and “I wasted 3 weeks of my life finding Castlevania’s hottest monster” are two Unraveled Lovers with a similar problem: they both won’t shut the fuck up about their exes. Mortal Kuddler constantly brings up all the other cuddles they’ve experienced and Castlevanias Hottest Monster will tell you you’re beautiful, but also bring up like 69 other monsters they think are also beautiful. This might not be a red flag, but personally, this would tire me out, always being thought of in comparison or contrast to others.
That ends the BAD TIER and brings us to the OKAY TIER where a large chunk of the Unraveled Lovers fall into, so much so that I had to create more specific sub tiers under the OKAY TIER.
So let’s get into the OKAY TIER: These Unraveleds Lovers are alright, you’ll just have a sublimely weird relationship.
These Unraveled Lovers will treat you right but they’re also just very peculiar. Nothing wrong with that at all, but I’m here to explain to you just in what ways these okayest lovers are bizarre. Let’s start with the first sub tier.
OKAY SUB TIER: College Students who are way too into their major
There are a lot of Unraveled Lovers under this subtier, and this shouldn’t surprise you, because Unraveleds are inherently nerdy. These are lovers that will be good to you but also just never fucking shut up about what it is they’re studying.
“I read all 337 books of Skyrim so that you don’t have to” and "Understanding Kingdom Hearts (and every other story" are Creative Writing majors obsessed with analyzing every single thing they read. As a Creative Writing major myself, I would advise you to never date a Creative Writing major unless you are a Creative Writing major yourself. I think that’s the only way the relationship can be ethical. Being sent essays from the New Yorker every day would be torture if you didn’t actively enjoy it.
“We made all 78 Breath of Wild recipes in one day” is a Culinary Arts major and, score, they’re gonna wanna cook for you! A lot! Beware though, because it’ll be a hit or miss on whether or not the food will be good, but you must admit, that there is nothing quite as attractive as your lover making you food (let’s just hope the food doesn’t harm you).
“Smash Bros. owes millions of dollars in OSHA violations” is going to law school and that should be a dealbreaker in itself, but I’ll be a bit lenient because they’re always working towards the safety of everybody. This Unraveled Lover will always remind you to put your seatbelt on and also tell you exactly what laws you are violating.
“Bowser’s military hierarchy” is a Political Science major, and Political Science majors scare me. So I’ll just say they’re okay, and leave it at that.
“Which Dark Souls Boss is the best manager?” is a rare non-evil Management major because they actually truly care for the welfare of employees. They just will always talk about it, even when you guys are on a date. I know worker’s rights are important, but it’s not exactly what I want to talk about in between kisses, yknow?
“I fixed Fallout’s music by creating a totally new genre” is a Music major who keeps accidentally making Ska love songs to you. You didn’t know Ska love songs could be a thing. This Unraveled Lover makes it a thing.
“Scientifically Calculating the Game of the Year” is a Math major so you will never have to worry about calculating bills because they can do it for you.
“Calculate your pet’s HP with my 100% legitimate formula” is a Veterinary Medicine major so if you’re an animal lover, this Unraveled is the one for you! Just beware, because this Unraveled Lover will also spend a lot of time observing you from afar to quantify your health points, but both of you will inexplicably find this activity strengthens your relationship.
And last but not least for this sub tier, “When can Mario retire?” is a disillusioned Accounting and Finance major who chose this line of study to get a job and, through the years, realized what a hellscape capitalism is. You may have to deal with a lot of zoning out and staring off into the distance, with this Unraveled Lover, but a lover who hates capitalism sure is a good egg.
That brings us to our next sub tier!
OKAY SUB TIER: Cultists or Conspiracy Theorists (AKA...College Students who are way too into their extracurriculars)
These Unraveled Lovers are alright! They’re just a little bit off the shits.
“Every Sonic game is blasphemous” will get really really worked up about things and probably try to start a cult. For most, that’s a definite dealbreaker, but what makes Sonic Bible an okay lover is that they eventually calm down from the cult outburst and apologize. So this Unraveled Lover will treat you well, you just have to be ready to ground them when they get a little bit bonkers.
“Solving the Zelda Timeline in 15 minutes” is very similar to Sonic Bible, except instead of starting a cult, every once in a while they’ll just sit you down on a chair and explain to you their latest obsession while slowly and intensely stripping. Which, hey, that could make for a fun night, if you’re into that kinda stuff! Definitely okay in my book.
That brings us to our last okay sub tier.
OKAY SUB TIER: Your Unraveled Lover might need to schedule some sessions with a therapist, and that’s Okay
Listen, we all have baggage. We all have problems. These are Unraveled Lovers who want to be the best for you, but at the same time have issues of their own, and you’re going to have to support them when they pop into their local psych clinic to make themselves better people.
“Waluigi” is an Unraveled Lover who is going through some identity issues. They want to be good for you, but they don’t even know who exactly they are. They may feel as if they are tricking you into being in this relationship, that they aren’t who you think they are, and while these fears are irrational, they wholeheartedly believe it and will never feel fully secure in this relationship until they have made peace with themselves. If you love this Unraveled Lover, you’re going to have to stick with them as they learn more about who they are.
“Kirby” is an Unraveled Lover who, for some reason, is obsessed with the constant quest to make things make sense. This need of theirs bleeds into every aspect of their life and can definitely affect your relationship. This Unraveled Lover may sometimes perhaps cite that they don’t deserve you because they can’t seem to figure out a logical and objective answer for why you are with them. This issue of treating everything like a puzzle to solve is an issue they will have to work out and recover from, and they will be receptive to this process of recovery because they cherish the relationship they have with you and understand that not everything has to be solved; some things can just be felt. If you choose to stay with this Unraveled Lover, you must be prepared to support them when they take a mysterious but needed soul searching journey in the woods. You must be prepared to sit with them along the shores of the beach and reassure them that life is about living, not about answers.
And that, dear readers, ends the OKAY TIERs. Now it’s time for the tier you have all been waiting for.
Drumroll, please!
GOOD TIER: Pop open the champagne, bring out the strawberries dipped in chocolate, and let Spotify play Careless Whisper, baby, because we’re in the Ideal Lover zone.
Welcome to the Ideal Lover Zone. Here, we have three Unraveled Lovers who are just extremely good fellas.
“I used the Sims to perfect my apartment” is an Unraveled Lover who will work their hardest to be the best for you, but unlike the BAD TIER perfectionists, it will naturally dawn to them that perfection is unattainable. After this realization, they will find comfort and happiness in your romantic relationship and the other healthy relationships they have with other people. This Unraveled Lover will be sincere with you when the time calls for it, but will also not be afraid to be goofy for it. Above all, this Unraveled Lover will ask for help when they need it. They may often be shy, at first, but they understand their limits and will openly communicate to you when situations call for it. Communication is the bedrock of any good relationship, and this Unraveled Lover will never keep you guessing.
“The Perfect Pokerap” is similar to the Sims, in the sense that they will at first strive for perfection in the honeymoon phase of your relationship but then understand that that isn’t possible and then set more reasonable and realistic goals. What sets this Unraveled Lover out from the crowd though is just how much they cherish you. How devoted they are to you. The love you will feel in this relationship will be transcendental, and, even if you do break up, this Unraveled Lover will never forget you.
And finally. Who---according to me, a mildly delirious 21 year old rando on the internet---is the most ideal Unraveled Lover?
It’s “Find your Kojima name with my simple 11 page form.” Why? Because this Unraveled Lover wants to know you. They want to know everything about you, the parts you like and the parts you don’t like. This is a lover who will not shy away from any aspect of yourself, but instead, embrace you for who you are as a full fledged person.
They’ll also give you a whack ass pet name, and boy, isn’t that romantic?
Well, there you have it. All (as of May, 2020) of the Unraveled Episodes as 23 Unraveled Lovers. What did I learn from this endeavor? That romantic love is complicated, but if you’re into it, it is definitely worth the trials and tribulations.
...As long as I’m not dating the Castlevania Unraveled. Seriously, when we’re making out, I don’t wanna hear about how sexy the Hyena With Gun is. Learn how to read the room, dude.
(Thanks for reading.)
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Fic Recs/Mandatory Reading for Reddie fans
Here is an incomplete list of some of my favorite Reddie fics on ao3, because i cannot get over the sheer talent of this fandom’s wonderful writers! A lot of these are the Greatest Hits that you’ll find on almost every fic list, but that’s why I consider them mandatory reading. like if you haven’t read some of these, what are you doing?
the years go by like days by georgiestauffenberg, rated M
the 27 years in between, but better because richie and eddie stay together. every time i think of this fic, i think of that lady gaga meme where she’s like “brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, etc” and maybe it’s bc this is one of the first reddie fics i ever read, but this one is always gonna be my favorite
broken record by spunknbite, rated E
the mother of all time loop fics. every reddie veteran gets chills at the phrase “the house on Neibolt was still standing”
literally everything by stitchy
like seriously just clear a few days bc you’re not gonna want to stop reading this author once you start. no other author has made me literally fucking cackle in one paragraph and sob in the next like this one, pls do yourself a favor and devour all their works like i did 
the night we met (take me back) by camerasparring, rated E
ch2 fix-it where eddie shows up at richie’s door alive and with no memory. great slow burn with a wonderfully conflicted richie, 10/10
let’s hear it for my baby! series by cloudings, rated E
OOOOOOOHHH boy! a modern teen!reddie grindr AU that’s both steamy AND sweet?? more like a fucking blessing amen hallelujah
a heart that laughter has made sweet by marjaani, rated E
another lovely teen!reddie fic that’s got it all! sweet, stupid boys, humor, a teeny bit of angst, and some 5-alarm fire smut with some top eddie, as a treat
keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice. by theappleppielifestyle, rated T
angst with a happy ending is my favorite, and this one is just fantastic. so sweet, so sad! and stan is featured as eddie’s afterlife buddy and idk about y’all but i cannot get enough of stanley uris in my reddie fics. read this, then read all this author’s reddie fics, they’re all amazing
collateral by loosecannon, sheepknitssweater, rated E
a post-ch2 fic that i guess could be classified as fix-it, BUT with some very interesting twists. they beat the clown, everyone lives, but no one really gets the tropey happy ending. the WIP sequel is also incredible and i live for the updates.
the greater fool  series by mischiefmanager, mostly rated T with some E
this is a series i’ll reread a lot bc it’s so fucking good. follows young reddie into early adulthood, mostly a bunch of cute shit where they figure out themselves and their relationship. also contains the single best teen reddie fic in existence, he came in through the window, but reading the whole series is a must
brokeback derry and everything else by Amuly, rated E
27 years in between, richie and eddie reconnect in their 20s and meet back up in derry twice a year to remember and love each other before going back to their lives and forgetting. so much pain. there’s a lot of sweet stuff in there, but you can see shit’s gonna get complicated from miles away and the anticipation almost gave me stomach ulcers (in a good way). ultimate angst with a happy ending.
let me name the stars for you by playedwright, rated M
speaking of angst with a happy ending...Martian AU!!!!! this one fucked me up in the best way, i literally called my roommate at 2am to vent to her about my emotions after reading it. i go back and reread chapter 8 just to be overwhelmed by it, and it makes me cry every time. plus, there are awesome sequels/companion pieces in the series! read this, i beg you!
walk through fire for you by hyruling, rated T
unwind after all that angst with some cute, drunk, confused eddie being very upset when he finds out richie is engaged. richie only teases him a little before pointing out the matching ring on eddie’s finger. 
in the heat of the summer (you're so different from the rest) by kaboomslang, rated E
post-ch2 slow burn with tags that really say it all, including but not limited to: eddie moves to california and richie is a mess, Eddie Kaspbrak’s Hot Girl Summer, and cute middle aged man dates
pivotal moments by danfanciesphil, polypocket, rated E
high school reddie has a sort of fwb thing goin on, but emotions get in the way. featuring wonderful bevchie friendship, hella miscommunication, cute double dates, high eddie, and a happy ending
like a bullet in the back by jerry_duty, rated M
adult idiots in love! a personal favorite trope of mine! slow burn with a fair helping of angst but a really great ending. richie stays with eddie in new york while he’s there on business, and it takes these losers SO LONG to figure it out but the way they dance around it is very cute
no sense of living without aim [WIP] by liesmyth, rated E
richie and eddie meet on grindr in the 27 years between and hey, whadda ya know, they fall in love! i really love this fic but i’m pretty sure it’s been abandoned. i’ve had it open on my phone browser for like 3 months with no update but i still check it regularly bc i’m pathetic and this fic is just so good i’m DYING to know what happens next so read at ur own risk
a strange sense of familiarity [WIP] by Katranga, rated E
another “they meet and fall in love without remembering” fic, and even though it’s not complete yet, it gets regular updates. oh, also, i’m obsessed with it. they’re long distance fuck buddies who can’t admit they’re in love, and then they get hit with the childhood memories! and everyone lives! what’s not to love!  also PLEASE read kisses take like mint and every other reddie work by this author, they are all fantastic
adult friends by sudowoodo, rated T
AU where adult reddie meet at a first aid seminar for work (immediately fall in love), become friends, become best friends, and finally get to be happy. has some super repressed eddie and intensely pining richie, which is always fun, and genuinely made me laugh out loud. also please check out this author’s other reddie fics, there’s some super sweet kid reddie in there that really warms the heart
the mind's a funny fruit by joldiego, rated T
eddie wakes up barely alive in derry, has 0 memory, calls himself richie, and moves in with some lesbians. an absolute must read that ought to be on every reddie fic rec compilation. i read this a long time ago and just thinking about it makes me want to read it again.
now what i'm gonna say may sound indelicate [WIP] by IfItHollers, rated E
it took me entirely too long to find this fic since i joined the fandom, and it’s truly a fucking masterpiece. it’s almost at 200k now and still unfinished, and the slow burn is excruciating, but this is a legendary fic for a reason. eddie spends the first chunk of this fic in the hospital recovering from the massive chest wound, and then he and richie move the recovery to ben’s cabin in the woods. the author’s notes for each chapter are a story in themselves
signs of a new lifetime by swordfishtrombones, rated T
one of the sweetest, most romantic reddie fics i’ve ever read. a fresh take on a classic concept: post-ch2, they’re in love, they haven’t said/done anything about it yet, BUT!!! it’s not angsty! they are all cute and giggly like “you say it first!” “no, you say it first!” and it makes me fucking MELT
broadcasting tower by swordfishtrombones, rated E
back-to-back recs from the same author! bc i love these fics so much! sort of similar to the last one in that they both know what’s up and just haven’t said it, but this one’s got the angst! i didn’t know when i read it that it was the same author as the other fic, and i thought how funny, i found another reddie author that perfectly captures this pair in such a wonderfully romantic way! i also just noticed there’s a follow up to this so now i have to go read that immediately
eurydice; the original comeback kid by Vulcanodon, rated M
for the love of god please read this and the other work in this series. it’s a ch-2 fix-it with some intense action sequences and major pining, and it has haunted me since i first read it
love on the telephone by tempestbreak, rated E
okay this one is really just 30k of pure smut but it’s also so sweet and features a mini sexual awakening for eddie and some insecure richie with an emphasis on how much they love and trust each other. also it doesn’t hurt that the smut is fire, like does anyone else want that twink obliterated, or is it just me?
the boy who loves you by candlejill, rated E
eddie lives, richie confesses, things are chill and then they’re not. richie’s career flourishes, which is always nice to read and is what ultimately catalyzes eddie’s gay awakening and realization of his love for richie. it’s got some sad angsty parts and a very sweet ending, and it up there as one of my favorite reddie fics of all time
richie and eddie break up [WIP] by skeilig, rated M
a refreshing and realistic take on life ch-2 for the losers, because being in love at thirteen doesn’t mean you can fall into a perfect relationship at 40. i’ll admit, i’m hoping this will ultimately be a “richie and eddie get back together” fic, but it’s still a very good read (and often very funny in the second chapter) at the moment in the midst of their break up
september 1989 and everything else by pineapplecrushface, rated T
cute kid reddie figuring it out and making me smile. the follow up to this and the after derry series by this author are also personal favorites
go west by ssstrychnine, rated T
road trip fic! an absolute work of art slow burn with teen reddie in the 90s. it’s so beautifully written i just wish i could go back and read it for the first time again
the edification of eddie kaspbrak by tozier, rated M
character study with some incredible fucking prose, my lord it gorgeous. explores how eddie learns about love as he grows up, and it’s super fucking sad sometimes bc the poor boy doesn’t know how to have the things he wants and i just want to give him a hug, but it’s really a spectacular fic
circular motion by sinchronicity, rated M
soulmate!AU that follows book canon and even though it’s been a long time since i’ve read it and the details are fuzzy, i remember absolutely loving it and thinking it was incredible
tell me you know by RichiesToesHurt, rated E
college losers with some severely pining and jealous richie with a lovely ending 
predicament bondage [WIP] by dgalerab, rated E
i resisted reading this fic for so long, recently broke and binged all of it, and now i’m like frothing at the mouth for updates. richie’s a closeted actor/comedian who meets eddie, a professional Dom, when he needs help researching a role. they become friends, they develop crushes, richie realizes he’s a sub, and it’s just so much fun to read
there’s a lot more fics to rec so i might add on to this in the future, but in the meantime my biggest tip for for reading fanfiction that took me embarrassingly long to figure out: focus on the authors! if you read something you like, check out the rest of the work by that author bc odds are you’ll like that too. i mentioned it in a few specific works above, but check out the authors catalogues for these fics. if i included every work by these authors that i loved, this list would be miles long
feel free to add on any great stuff i missed, there’s sure to be tons of it!
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ohgodmyeyes · 3 years
Note
hi! I was curious as to what are both your fav and least fav versions of anakin? (like aotc, rots, old force ghost, clone wars, etc)
This is such an exciting question, but I'll try to be succinct instead of long-winded and boring. (My stories are already there for that.) Here's a quick rundown of a few different Anakins, from my most treasured to the one (and only one) I tend to side-eye: 
ROTJ Anakin / Force Ghost Anakin - I'm grouping these guys together, because I love them all for the same reason, and that reason is that they DID it. ROTJ Anakin is the Anakin who finds himself again; who takes responsibility for his family, and a huge step toward atoning for the things he's done. He spends ROTJ slowly changing; we see it in how he regards the Emperor, and the way he regards Luke. The closest thing he’s ever going to do to getting his wife back, realistically, is saving his son and finally openly defying Palpatine. It doesn’t matter that anyone else knows Vader has been rescued from himself, or that he was really a good man all along. Luke knows, and that’s enough; it’s part of why their relationship is so special to me. Luke is the only living person who says a proper goodbye to Anakin: He knew all along that it was worth it to try to know him. That’s beautiful.
His journey isn't finished at this stage, exactly, but his he's in a better place than he's ever been, and I love him for it. He's hope personified, even for the very worst of us.
As an aside— physicality isn't a barrier to any of this; I love him all busted up and dying, I love him as a fully-healed Sebastian Shaw, and as a pretty, young Hayden Christensen.
Padawan Anakin / AOTC Anakin / Jedi Quest Anakin - In second place is a much younger iteration of him— a sad, lonely kid who's easily excitable, and dangerous, somehow, without being at all frightening. He's a mixed-up kid who's had a less-than-ideal upbringing, bound to an ancient prophecy no one knows enough about. He cries out constantly to be held and loved; he's got his heart in his hand, and he's always ready to give it away to the next person who shows him kindness— or who even just needs him. 
He's still so compassionate and well-intentioned at this point in his life, even when it doesn't benefit him. He can be petty and sensitive, although anyone would be, if they had to bear the kind of weight Anakin carries on his own shoulders at that age. His emotions sometimes run amok, but his heart is still so good... and more importantly than that, he knows it. He still has hope, for himself and for others, despite the overwhelming sense of 'otherness' he tends to feel. That's what sets him apart from Vader for me, even though I think AOTC Ani resembles the ultimate, 'suited' Darth Vader a lot more than the Anakin we meet at the beginning of ROTS. 
Plus— although this is fairly irrelevant— AOTC Anakin happens to be Anakin at peak hotness. No damn wig is going to change that, nor is the sad fact of my own rapidly-advancing age. :) 
Little Kid Anakin / TPM Anakin - The sweet baby version of Anakin comes in next for me. The altruism he struggles to hang onto until he finally falls is front-and-centre at this stage. He's tough by necessity (obviously, he's a fucking slave), but he isn't jaded yet— largely owing to his mother. Even when he loses Qui-Gon and gets to the Temple and struggles to integrate, his heart just stays enormous. God knows what he's already been through, but he never stops trying, and there's nothing fake about his confidence at this stage in his life. I love that; I think we could all stand to be a bit more like nine-year-old Anakin Skywalker.
There's an Anakin & Reader story on ao3 by @itohan called 'Kuebiko', and it's a beautiful depiction of what it might be like to be a caregiver for a very young Anakin. It's headed for some pretty sad places, to be sure, but there's a lot of sweetness and lovely (sometimes chilling) little insights into his character that I don't otherwise get to see very often. Anyone else with a soft spot for child Ani should go and read it.
'Classic' Vader, between the end of ROTS and the end of ANH - This is an enormous chunk of time, but again, I think it's more helpful than not if I just group these iterations of him together, at least for the purpose of compiling this list. It's horrific and tragic and a devastating waste of potential, but Anakin really does spend a huge amount of time mired in a thick, dark cloud of grief and anger. He convinces himself of a lot of stupid shit during this period in his life: 'Anakin is dead, I'm fulfilling my destiny, I can get Padmé back, she'd love all this ORDER I'm bringing, blah blah blah'. Every ounce of his extraordinary control is purely surface-level; he's a raging wildfire inside for a longer period of time than I think nearly anyone else could realistically sustain (as in, Kylo Ren was always going to die at 30, and I'm surprised I didn't, too lol).
He's empowered by his shitstain of a 'Master' to hurt and kill people against everything that once made him who he was, and no one can know he suffers for it (or for the loss of his wife, or the family he wishes he could have raised with her). No one can know anything about him; he's a man playing a part who can't ever take off his costume. Everything hurts him, and the only places he can turn to for comfort are the battlefield, and the inside of his own head. He has profound disabilities of every imaginable nature, and receives no more than the most cursory physical maintenance to remedy them. He escapes into his missions, but every one of those is a slight against his own better nature. His personal pursuits don't benefit him either; for basically twenty years of his life, he's living in an emotional storm— it ebbs and flows, but it never lets up, and his entire existence is set up specifically to reward the most despicable of his behaviour.
He doesn't make very many genuine emotional breakthroughs, because he's not allowed— just tricked and lied to and manipulated and taken advantage of, even when he's the one ostensibly in 'control'. His life only starts again when Luke comes into it; again, one more reason their connection is so special to me.
I'm going to go ahead and recommend another Anakin/Reader story by a different author; it's called 'mrfiveohone' by DarthDoritos, and it's on ao3. It's a brilliant exploration of what a strange, budding relationship with a youngish Vader might look like, and just an overall beautiful portrait of escalating intimacy on top of that. Another one I would highly recommend (completion status notwithstanding) is called 'Afterimage', and it is by garnettrees, also on ao3. It's a very dark Vaderdala story that gets right inside Anakin's head in the most wonderful ways. He never stops loving Padmé, and in that, he never truly stops being who he is. 
This is the Vader I (admittedly somewhat dramatically) see the most of myself in. It puts us at-odds sometimes, but my urge to get up underneath that mask and make him feel worthy of his own name is insurmountable. I love him because if I didn't, I'd be in trouble. 
Which brings us to TCW Anakin… who is, perhaps, the only version of Anakin I can honestly say I don't care for. Which is fine, because the show itself really isn't my kind of thing. Suffice to say, that particular depiction of him departs so dramatically from any of the other ones I've known (or listed here) that I just can't get into it, no matter how hard I try. 
I'm going to end this with a shout-out to Lego Anakin! I've never seen a shitty version of Lego Anakin, whether in a cartoon or on my desk at home. :)
Thank you for asking, anon. That was fun to write out!
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ahgaseda · 4 years
Text
enough | three
even if everyone else leaves me, you’re enough for me, you’re my only one, stand by me forever, only you, just you...
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summary : to survive as a single woman in the big city, you resort to letting rich men pay for your company, but never anticipated that your first client would be the boy you once loved, Jinyoung.
warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, references to prostitution, mentions of gang activity, graphic sexual content, potentially triggering elements involving mental health, panic attacks, etc.
miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven
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Frustration was the understatement of the year.
After Jinyoung kissed you, he avoided you for the remainder of the evening. You were left to wallow in hurt and self-pity. Being faced with how badly you had damaged him, frankly had wounded you as it rightly should have.
His driver, a chatty trouble maker named Yugyeom, who towered over you and flashed a hundred-watt smile, but you learned very quickly he would be a great source of comfort given his willingness to gossip endlessly about his boss.
As the car drove into the night, Yugyeom kindly asked how your evening had been.
“He wouldn’t have sex with me,” you lamented, hoping for a laugh and relieved when you earned one.
After an amused chuckle, Yugyeom told you, “He may be a ruthless asshole, but he’s still a gentleman.”
“Yeah, but… you know what he’s paying me for,” you trailed unsurely, wondering how much you could divulge with this new acquaintance.
Yugyeom shrugged, clearly unbothered by your current “profession,” and gabbed, “The boss isn’t a rabbit. In fact, he’s rarely horny.”
Skeptical, you frowned and sighed, “Good to know.” Turning back to the window, you watched the city around you blur into one cohesive whirlwind of color and activity.
“Well, that’s what happens to guys who are smitten with a girl they can’t have. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Biting your lip, you murmured, “No, I wouldn’t.”
Yugyeom chortled, “Yeah, if he finds that girl, then I retract my statement.”
Your brow furrowed and you abandoned the window in favor of his face. “Which statement?”
Yugyeom turned to you, taking his eyes off the road momentarily, and said, “About him not being a rabbit.”
You laughed aloud. If your memories of Jinyoung were any indication, his sex drive was through the roof. There were too many times you met up with him between classes to have a quickie and too many nights of parking in his rickety truck on some old back road with only the fireflies to see what sins you committed together.
A personal favorite you thought of often was the summer night he had filled the bed of the truck with blankets over a worn-out mattress. In the pitch black darkness of the moonless night, the two of you were a tangled mess of limbs as you fumbled around to get busy.
“Ouch,” he said, coming to a stop between your thighs.
On your back with your legs in the air alongside his hips, you held his face between your hands and asked frantically, “What? What happened? Did I hurt you?”
Jinyoung snorted and you wished you could see his face. You could barely make out his form above you in the darkness.
“How could you hurt me? You’re on the bottom,” he teased in his heavy dialect.
“I don’t know,” you exclaimed, embarrassed. “I’m new at this. You always say I’m tight. What if I break your dick?”
Jinyoung laughed hard and you grinned at the sound.
“Please, don’t ever break my dick. There wouldn’t be enough therapy in the world to help me recover from that,” Jinyoung retorted, stealing a kiss and accidentally bumping into your nose.
“Ow,” you squeaked, pinching your nose until the pain began to fade.
“I’m sorry!”
“Why did you say ‘ouch’ in the first place?” you asked with irritation.
Jinyoung winced and groaned, “I think a mosquito bit my ass.”
You giggled.
Snapping out of your memories as the car came to a rolling stop, you took in the sight of your new home. The vertical condominium was wedged between a row of identical copies, all neutrally shaded with stark black gates and railings.
Yugyeom pressed a button on a small hob before handing the device to you. The garage door began to open and he maneuvered the car slowly inside.
“Here are your keys,” said the chauffeur after he unlocked the door for you, handing the key ring to your outstretched fingers. “I bid you adieu.”
You bowed in gratitude and replied, “Thank you, sir.”
The house was too big for your liking; much too generous for a single person to live in. The main living space was almost larger than your entire apartment. As you meandered through the new residence, you smiled when you took note of your personal items stationed throughout.
While with Jinyoung at his penthouse, the movers had transported all of your belongings in a matter of hours. At first, you thought this would infuriate you - strangers putting their hands on all of your things. Then, you remembered you didn’t actually own much.
Stepping into a small room adjacent to the bedroom, you couldn’t fight a broad smile when you surveyed the office space. Your textbooks were stacked neatly and your school supplies were no exception. Sitting on the rolling chair, you did a few turns before releasing a deep sigh and closing your eyes.
Maybe this overgrown house wasn’t so bad after all.
For the next two days, you settled in, making the place feel more like a home and less of a work perk. You brightened the rooms with color and light, taking pride in the place that Jinyoung was essentially lending to you.
But you constantly checked your phone, wondering why he hadn’t called or even texted. You resorted to drowning yourself in homework and exam prep, hoping to distract yourself from the endless thoughts of Jinyoung and his dumb, handsome face.
Even as you sat in class, the monotony of your physics professor faded into static, pushed away by memories of Jinyoung and his adorable laugh. How many years had it been since you heard him laugh? You grimaced. Jinyoung at that conference table looked hard and severe, like he hadn’t laughed in years.
That saddened you; the idea Jinyoung had been living a life without love or laughter. To keep the tears from your eyes, you focused on thermodynamics and forbid Jinyoung from your mind.
On the third afternoon, you finally got the call you had been anticipating.
Briefly, you stared at the phone and counted the seconds in your head, knowing he would despise having to sit through a few rings. “Yes, my lord?” you finally answered.
Jinyoung droned while he chewed his lunch, “Yugyeom is gonna bring you here. Be ready in 15.”
Feeling he was already about to hang up, you yelled, “I’ll need more time.”
Indignant, Jinyoung grumbled, swallowing whatever was in his mouth and asking, “What the hell for?”
“To shave my legs,” you deadpanned.
There was a pause, followed by a stern, “Don’t bother.”
Then, he hung up.
Frowning at the phone, you proceeded to spend an hour preparing yourself for the visit to Jinyoung’s penthouse. Whether or not you were actually going to have sex with him, you adorned yourself as if it were an ever-present possibility.
This game of his had hopelessly reeled you in.
Yugyeom arrived to get you in a sleek black car and you found him a comfortable place to sit in the grandiose living area. When you told him the fifteen minutes allotted would not suffice, he whipped out his phone and offered to keep himself busy whilst you took your sweet time.
Yugyeom was easily becoming your favorite person, especially when he commented at what a good job you had done breathing life back into the abandoned condo. The two of you gabbed about abstract art and the mint colored record player on your nearby table. Yugyeom was passionate about music and recommended an entire list of vinyls for you to give your ear to. He seemed to jump on board your plan to keep Jinyoung and his almighty ass waiting even longer.
Over an hour later, you stood in the cold, glass box that took you to the heights of the residential tower. Your freshly-shaved legs did not tolerate the chill well and you suddenly wished you had opted for pants instead of the high-waisted shorts.
But hell, your outfit was on point. The v-neck shirt was tucked into your navy blue bottoms and your favorite push-up bra was here to work, leaving little to the imagination where your cleavage was concerned. You had gone up a cup size leaving home, and you damn sure wanted Jinyoung to notice. But to avoid looking too blatant with your bare legs and perky breasts on display, you wore a crisp blazer over the ensemble; vaguely casual.
“Alright, I’m here,” you announced as you walked into the penthouse apartment. “Let’s do this.”
Perched in the kitchen, Jinyoung continued to eat his apple leisurely, raking the knife over a chunk before taking another bite. He leaned back against the sink, ankles crossed in a pair of tight-fitting jeans.
For the brief seconds you passed in front of him, Jinyoung did a full head-to-toe scan of your presence, lingering over every curve of your form and resisting the urge to nod his approval. With the trail of delicate, fruity scents following you, Jinyoung surmised you must have just come from a long, hot shower.
Unbuttoning your blazer, you propped your forearms on the counter directly next to him, sticking your ass into the air and glancing over your shoulder. Drumming your nails on the surface, you whined, “I’ll have you know I’ve had a very stressful day.”
Rolling his eyes, Jinyoung sighed, “I never would have guessed.”
Though he stood at your side, he felt miles away. You sashayed your hips a little, inevitably drawing his attention once more, and murmured coyly, “I’ve heard rage sex can help with that.”
“So can a nap.”
You grumbled at another battle lost, standing up straight and stealing the apple from his hand. After taking a loud bite, you murmured, “The boy I knew couldn’t keep his hands off of me.”
Without missing a beat, Jinyoung snatched the fruit back from your grasp and chuffed, “The girl I knew would never have traded her body for money.”
You nearly choked.
Jinyoung cut another piece of the apple and forced it into your parted mouth, saying, “You shouldn’t bite into an apple. It’s bad for your teeth.”
You watched him saunter away, noting the broad expanse of his shoulders and the way his dress shirt hugged every line and angle. Once upon a time, you knew how it felt to sink your fingers into his back, to anchor yourself to him in every way possible as he took you to the heights of ecstasy.
You also knew how it felt to let him hold you, to comfort you when you needed his love most. Jinyoung was no stranger to you waking up in the middle of the night screaming, doused in sweat as your dreams turned dark and violent. There were too many things you had seen in your lifetime and your mind could never forget them no matter how hard you tried.
Jinyoung was just another frightened kid, no different from you, but he knew what to say and what to do. You would rest your head in the bend of his arm, your smaller frame tucked to his body as he rocked you back and forth. He would murmur the most delicate of words until you drifted back to sleep.
The memories of how passionate Jinyoung could be with you, how mindlessly in love you had once been with each other, brought a fresh surge of frustration into your chest and the sensation radiated through your body to the point you felt heat behind your cheeks.
Vexed by his dismissals, you trudged toward the door, drawing his confused attention momentarily as you shouted, “I’m going with Yugyeom to get food!”
The sound of the door slamming ricocheted through the apartment. Jinyoung stood rooted in place, watching where you had just stormed out, and nonchalantly took one last bite from his apple before tossing the core into the trash bin.
God, you drove him crazy. He loved you to the point of madness. Everything you did was both certifiably adorable and yet absolutely infuriating in his eyes. This little game he played with you was the highlight of his life at the moment. He was finally reunited with a sense of peace now that he could see you again, but he had no intention of giving you absolution any time soon.
You plopped into the passenger seat, greeting a surprised Yugyeom as he had been playing on his phone. You took the mobile from him and proceeded to finish his round of Candy Crush, asking him to take you to the nearest convenience store for snacks.
“You were barely in there for two seconds,” Yugyeom said, revving up the engine.
You groaned and explained, “We argued already. He annoys me.”
Yugyeom chortled.
“Your phone is ringing,” you told him a moment later, seeing Jinyoung’s photo on the screen. “It’s the asshat.”
“Answer it then,” Yugyeom smarted, focused on the busy street he turned onto.
You did as told and chirped, “Yugyeom’s phone.”
Surprised to hear your voice on his driver’s line, Jinyoung said, “You didn’t take a guard with you.”
You rolled your eyes and whined, “I’m just going to buy snacks. How much trouble could I possibly get into?”
“What’s he complaining about?” Yugyeom asked with a laugh.
Hoping Jinyoung would notice the difference, you drastically softened your tone when speaking to Yugyeom, “We didn’t bring a babysitter.”
“Mr. Muscles is in the back,” Yugyeom replied.
“What?” you exclaimed, turning around.
Sure enough, Jackson the burly security guard was resting atop the seat, an arm tucked behind his head with his eyes closed. Though after hearing Yugyeom, he lifted a hand and waved his fingers to let you know he was well aware of the situation.
You giggled and quipped, “Unbelievable.”
“Alright then,” Jinyoung sighed, satisfied you had enough escorts for a measly trip.
“Why are you even worried about me?” you asked spitefully, grateful for the distance between you and Jinyoung at the moment. “I’m sure I’m easily replaceable.”
“I’m not having an argument with you over the phone,” Jinyoung replied calmly. “Though you sure are a lot braver whenever you’re on one.”
You scoffed, but had no rebuttal. It was true. After a nervous pause, you stammered, “Want anything from the store?”
Jinyoung barked, “Yeah, three or four bottles of soju. I’ll need them if you’re planning on staying longer than five minutes this time.”
“You bastard,” you fired back. “I offered you my ass on a silver platter and you would rather talk about apples.”
Yugyeom and Jackson both made noises of amusement, though the latter still kept his eyes closed in an attempt to catch a nap.
There was absolutely no fluctuation in Jinyoung’s voice when he grumbled, “Yeah, because nothing turns a guy on like his girl flopping onto the kitchen counter.”
Bristling with fury, you snapped, “How would I know what turns a guy on? It’s been years since I slept with you.”
“Me?” Jinyoung questioned.
“Huh?”
Jinyoung shifted his weight, drifting into his bedroom, and asked, “I’m the last person you slept with?”
Immediately, you realized what you had said and fell rather spectacularly into a panic. “I’m gonna hang up now.”
Jinyoung countered in a low threat, “Don’t you fucking dare.”
You pulled the phone from your ear and stared at the screen, biting your lip as adrenaline rose in your chest. After a few tense seconds, you pressed the phone back to your cheek and whispered, “Yes.”
Jinyoung was clearly off balance after your confession, because his tone was tender and soft when he spoke, “No one else has touched you?”
Pinching your lips together, you wrestled with what to say. Had he assumed you had moved on from him? That you had gotten into bed with other men in an attempt to forget about him?
Firmly, you replied, “No.”
It was true. You had found and lost love with Jinyoung. You knew you wouldn’t find it with anyone else - you would only find it where you had left it.
Now, it was Jinyoung’s turn to be silent. After a moment, he murmured, “I didn’t know that.”
Why did he sound skeptical? Did he think you were lying to please him?
Wrath reared its ugly head again and you snapped, “Oh, I’m sorry I’m not a massive slut. Does this lower my street value?”
Jinyoung snarled, “Careful...”
“Wait, it should raise my worth, right? I’m sorry…” you trailed with a hollow chuckle to hide your wounded pride. “I’m not up to speed on prostitution practices.”
Running out of patience, Jinyoung hissed your name.
Squeezing the phone, you shouted into the receiver with loathing, “The last girl you paid to fuck you, should I call her for some advice?”
“Oh, shit,” Yugyeom suddenly exclaimed, slamming the breaks as a car darted out in front of him.
You screamed when the vehicles collided and inadvertently dropped the phone onto the floor between your feet. While you lurched forward from the impact, your taut safety belt shoved you back into the seat. Fortunately, you and your companions were unscathed.
“Real nice, Yugyeom,” Jackson chastised, opening his door and stepping out to survey the damage.
“Don’t get out,” Yugyeom told you as you reached for your handle.
You nodded, watching the man in the opposing vehicle storm up to the car you were in and slam both of his hands on the hood. Jackson approached him, speaking diplomatically, but the other man was shouting, motioning between the two of them.
“I wanna go back now,” you spoke shakily, eyes on the drama unfolding.
When his polite manners didn’t do the trick, Jackson braced his hands on the man’s chest and shoved him away, warning him to settle down or there would be consequences. After handing the stranger a few bills from the wad of cash in his pocket, both parties returned to their vehicles amicably.
“What are you paying him for?” Yugyeom exclaimed with discontent as Jackson slid back into the car. “We had the right of way!”
“Just go before the police show up,” Jackson ordered, reaching into his back pocket with a groan when his phone began to ring. He patiently answered, “Yeah, boss? No, we’re fine. She’s fine. It was a tiny collision. She does? No, she seems alright to me.”
“I’m right here,” you grumbled, glancing over your shoulder. The concept of Jinyoung being worried about you warmed your icy heart for a moment, but you were still too annoyed to let the gesture soften you.
“I will keep an eye on it,” Jackson whispered, then hung up.
“He told you about my history with car accidents, did he?”
Jackson relaxed back into his seat, like nothing had happened, and said, “He just told me to watch out for the signs, that’s all.”
“I’m fine,” you asserted. “My reaction is totally normal.”
“Really?” Jackson persisted. “Because my hands stopped shaking already. How about yours?”
You glanced down at your lap and saw your quivering fingers, immediately folding your arms and gazing out the window.
Stepping into the penthouse after a short return drive, you came face-to-face with a livid Jinyoung. Before he could utter a word, you sassed, “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”
He narrowed his eyes in reproach. “That’s not funny.”
Putting your hands on your hips, you dodged him and sang in a taunt, “It’s a shame you’ve lost your sense of humor, among other things.”
Jinyoung’s sharp tongue was not to be underestimated and he was quick to retort, “Yeah, it must be out there fucking what’s left of your dignity.”
You scowled, enraged.
Jinyoung planted his feet, crossed his arms over his chest, and asked sternly, “Why haven’t you been with anyone else?”
A ripple of nerves shot through you and you deflected, “Are we really gonna have this conversation now?”
Jinyoung would never admit it, but he was overcome with feelings toward you. You had stayed faithful to him. Even though you left him, you had made no attempts to replace him. Every fiber of his being was drawn to you, desperate to have you in his arms.
“Why not?” Jinyoung finally pressed, advancing toward you.
Folding your arms, you stuck out your hip and tapped your foot. “Have you been with anyone else?”
Jinyoung wagged his finger. “I asked you first.”
“No, Jinyoung,” you admitted with a heavy sigh, abandoning any ideas about lying to him. “I haven’t been with anyone since you. I’m not capable of trusting another person that much.”
Harshening his expression, Jinyoung sneered, “Trust is a funny thing, isn’t it?”
You bristled, reading his tone.
“I’m suddenly reminded of how much I trusted you until the day you jumped in that truck and ran away from me.”
You threw up your hands, assuming he was back to the game, back to his desire to punish you. Exhausted, you choked, “I wasn’t doing it to get away from you.”
Jinyoung scoffed, “Really?”
“Don’t talk to me like you fucking know me,” you yelled, drifting toward his room for much needed solitude.
Jinyoung’s gaze narrowed, fire coursing through his veins when he hissed, “I’m the only one that knows you.”
With a roll of your eyes, you stomped to his bedroom and slammed the door behind you. Plopping down on his bed, you fell to your back and focused on calming your racing heart. Because arguing with Jinyoung didn’t scare you - it excited you.
When you were with Jinyoung, the two of you got into fiery debates rather often. Both of you were reckless with your emotions, quick to indulge your tempers given the right situations pushed the right buttons. You and Jinyoung were adept at flinging sharp words and insults, but you never felt fear or emotional injury from your sparring with him. Jinyoung was the boy who held your heart. You knew he would never break it.
At least, not until you broke his.
Voices drew your attention a few minutes later. Jinyoung had made no attempts to engage further with you and you were slightly disappointed. Meanwhile, you had been grappling with the spikes of adrenaline still holding your attention.
It amazed you how little compassion your own brain had for your emotional well-being. Whether it be a small collision or even a fake car accident in a film, seeing either would bring back every visceral detail of the day you learned how dangerous your home had become.
The van had slammed into your truck, totalling it with ease. Your head hit the window and a concussion nearly faded your vision to black. Before you slipped into unconsciousness, your body alerted you to more impending danger - of men dragging you from the wreckage with no intention of rescuing you.
Jinyoung would never understand your hatred for the gangs. Not unless he had been through what you had endured that day.
Snapping from your dark thoughts, you opened the door and stepped toward the living area. You needed to see Jinyoung, needed him to anchor you back to reality. No matter the hurt and pain between you and him, he was the uncontested safest place in the world.
“Jinyoung,” you called unsurely, voice shaking as the conflict grew louder.
In your three days of being one of Jinyoung’s “employees,” you had only met Bambam once and all you knew about him was his handling of Jinyoung’s business relationships. He seemed to be the orchestrater, the man with his hands in every cookie jar.
At the moment, Bambam was shouting, visibly enraged. Even though his anger was not remotely directed at you, your instinct was to cower into the corner to make yourself a smaller target. As you paced backwards slightly, head down in submission, Jinyoung clocked a weathered glance at your movements.
While Bambam continued to rant, you thought of your mother - the way she screamed at you and her voice would carry through the house, ricocheting from every surface to the point you thought you were surrounded. At the memory, your breathing began to shallow and you stared at the floor.
“Stop raising your voice,” Jinyoung warned his friend, but his eyes were fixated on you.
Oblivious, Bambam persisted, “I’m sorry, but this is the biggest screw up since…”
Jinyoung cut him off to snarl in reproach, “Shut up.”
You remembered the way you had screamed when those men tore you from the car and the sound flooded all of your senses until you truly believed you were back in that same place all over again. The memories were snowballing, piling one after the other until you were buried under an avalanche of trauma.
“Jinyoung,” called Jackson worriedly, having finally noticed you.
“I know,” Jinyoung answered as he made his way over to you, grabbing your arms and guiding you to the floor. “Sit. Sit.”
To everyone in the room, you looked like a startled animal, eyes wide and chest heaving for breath. Following Jinyoung’s instructions, you wouldn’t call what you did sitting, per se. You more or less collapsed to the ground; your legs folding under you like a lawn chair.
Frantic, Yugyeom asked, “What’s wrong with her?”
Jinyoung pushed some of your hair out of your face and answered, “She’s having a panic attack.”
“Because of me?” Bambam blinked.
Yugyeom was quick to scold, “No, you idiot. You’re just the cherry on top of a milkshake from hell.”
Clenching his jaw, Jackson turned to Bambam and added, “There was a little incident earlier.”
At the phrase, your mind gave you rapid glimpses of the car accident and your chest tightened all the more. Many pairs of eyes were on you now and your brain warned they were systematically draining all of the oxygen out of the room, robbing you of much-needed air.
“No, no, don’t look at them. Look at me,” Jinyoung demanded, cupping your face. “I’m the only one that matters. I’m the only one here.”
You wanted desperately to wrangle your breathing back to normal. You screamed at yourself in your mind that you were overreacting, that you were spiraling out of control for no rational reason.
“Everybody, get out,” Jinyoung ordered under his breath, careful not to shout in your presence as he seethed before you.
Shuddering, you choked in an attempt to gulp in more air.
Jinyoung gripped you, gentle but secure, and ordered, “Hey, hold my arms and close your eyes. Focus on breathing.”
You winched your eyes shut and imagined waves lapping on some distant shore. Even in your mind, the place you tried to seek was dark with storm clouds, the ground quaking when thunder boomed overhead.
“That’s it. Just relax. I’m right here with you.”
His voice seemed muffled by the rushing of blood in your ears. Your skull pounded, oversaturated with survival responses.
Jinyoung watched your face, relieved to see you were settling down in response to his words. Once upon a time, he was adept at saving you from yourself. Shushing your whimpers softly, he sighed, “I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe, baby. You’re safe with me.”
The panic gave you one last spike of terror, a final attempt of claiming you. You hyperventilated in response, shaking at a fresh onslaught of adrenaline, but it was subdued and losing its power.
Jinyoung brushed his thumb through the tear rolling down your cheek and said, “Breathe.”
His voice echoed in your head, drowning out everything else.
“You’re doing great.”
You relaxed, breathing steadily.
Jinyoung angled his body, pressing two fingers to your wrist and seeking out your pulse. Satisfied at the speed, he ordered, “Open your eyes now.”
Your eyes cracked open slowly, tears escaping your lashes and streaming down your face. Meeting his penchant stare, you rasped, “Jinyoung?”
“Not now, sweetheart. Just focus on you,” he calmed. “We have plenty of time to talk.”
Composing yourself, you took a deep inhale and released the air. Feeling marginally better, you joked, “This day fucking blows.”
Jinyoung chortled briefly. “I know.”
Letting your hands slide from his arms, you began, “I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I got carried away.”
Jinyoung fervently shook his head. “Don’t apologize.”
Both of you got to your feet, the room thick with tension of a different kind. A smile forced its way to your lips as you had caught a glimpse of the old Jinyoung - the boy who loved you more than himself and never failed to drive away your nightmares.
Calling his name, you reached out for him and stammered, “Can we… just stop being angry with each other?”
Jinyoung exhaled, morose. Giving your hand a squeeze before letting go, he explained, “You’re angry with me. I’m angry with you. Time will fix that.”
You watched him escape into his adjacent bedroom and you followed without any doubts.
For minutes that passed much too quickly, you had been safe and sound in Jinyoung’s arms. Even now, every aspect of his body language was open and inviting. If you wanted to rush back into his embrace, you had no doubt you would be welcome to do so.
Noticing you had shadowed him into the bedroom, Jinyoung studied you and asked, “You good?”
“I’m fine,” you assured him with a nod. “I promise.”
“Alright, then,” he replied, turning to leave. Your presence was suffocating him. He had too many desires toward you at the moment and he didn’t want to act on them yet. This was a slow burn - a power play he had to win in the end.
You sat on the edge of his bed, looking down at your hands and relieved to see they were no longer shaking. Rubbing your fingers together, you watched Jinyoung pilfer his pocket for a cell phone, dialing a number.
“Stay here and take it easy. I’m going to send everyone home,” he told you passively, striding out of the room before you could answer.
You nodded your understanding and listened to his footsteps fade away. Resisting a smile, you glanced around the room and mulled over the silly boy you loved. He was already trying to repair his harsh exterior, forcing any buffer he could to keep you from seeing he was still the soft, kind Jinyoung you knew.
Your overwhelming desire at the moment was to kiss him - to press your lips to every inch of his face and neck until he wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you with the fire and passion you knew he possessed.
A moment later, Jinyoung returned to the bedroom, relieved to see you hadn’t moved. Giving you a look over, the two of you merely studied each other, neither uttering a word. Where did you both stand in this relationship now?
Jinyoung could see the affection in your eyes. He had soothed your fear and rage in one moment of tenderness and vulnerability. He wanted nothing more than to hold you, to cradle you in his arms and let you fall asleep under his watchful gaze. For the past four years, he had been denied your warmth, parted from the feeling of your skin against his. Meanwhile, his heart - which he had started to believe was long gone - ached in his chest, twisting with need at the sight of you before him.
When Jinyoung shifted his weight, you knew he was a split-second away from finding a reason to crash on the couch; to put some distance between the two of you in order to hold on to his need to punish you. Longing to keep him close, you called, “Can I ask you for something?”
“Mm-hm,” he hummed, eyebrows raised with curiosity.
Your eyes were alight with hope as you posed the request, “Let me sleep in here tonight.”
And there it was. Mulling through indecision, Jinyoung decided he could lose a battle or two if it meant he would still win the war. After what happened over the course of the day, there was no way he could deny you any longer.
Ultimately, Jinyoung shrugged, feigning indifference, and he surrendered. “Fine.”
Blushing, you quipped to ease the tension, “I won’t make any moves on you, I swear.”
“Take off your jacket,” Jinyoung countered lowly, without missing a beat.
“Okay,” you replied, slipping out of the blazer as your brow stitched. “Why?”
Jinyoung salivated at the sight of your body in the tight outfit. He wanted to bury his face in your full breasts and grab handfuls of your plump ass, but managed to keep his composure for the time being.
Judging by the emotionless look on his face, you had absolutely no idea of the dirty thoughts racing through his mind. Jinyoung was momentarily daydreaming of all the many, many times he had taken pleasure from your body and given you back more in return.
Jinyoung began rolling up his sleeves, like he had a job to do that would undoubtedly require him getting his hands dirty, and replied, “I will give you a taste of what you want.”
Confused, you weren’t entirely up to speed yet with his shift in disposition and you searched his expression for an answer. “And what is that?” you questioned innocently.
“Put your hair up.”
You cocked your head, curious.
“Put your hair in a ponytail,” Jinyoung spoke slowly, almost patronizingly, when you failed to obey and pointed at the crown of your head.
With a roll of your eyes at what he could be playing at, you did as told and pulled a tie from your wrist to restrain your hair.
Jinyoung approached you, nose-to-nose, and surprised you when he reached around your head and grabbed the ponytail in his fist. You groaned at the sharp, forceful contact and braced your hands on his chest.
“Strip,” Jinyoung ordered, nipping at your lips.
Eyes widening, you could hardly believe your ears and you complied with his demand as if it were your body’s natural reflex. Jinyoung kept a solid hold on your hair and kissed you with abandon, smiling against your mouth when he felt you trying to shuffle out of your shorts.
Jinyoung cupped your jaw as he slipped his tongue along your bottom lip, teasing you for entrance. Rather than give in, you leaned into him and shoved your tongue into his mouth, stumbling as your shorts landed around your ankles. Jinyoung chuckled at your mindless urgency and the sound registered in your chest, causing you to smile while you played with his tongue.
His hand fell from your cheek, landing on your clothed breast and palming at the mound before grabbing the hem of your shirt and yanking it to the side to expose your bra. When you heard the material rip slightly, you broke from his mouth to gasp, but in the next instant, his palm was on your waist and stroking up your bare stomach.
The heat of his touch traveled up to your head and clouded your thoughts. You could hear and feel every harsh thump of your racing pulse in your ears. Your heart was clenching in your chest, celebrating at the taste of victory. Jinyoung was touching you. He was kissing you with the fervor of someone that had never stopped loving you.
Impatient, Jinyoung released you just long enough to spin you around, facing you away from him. You called his name, heat fogging your mind even more from the rush of arousal of his rough grip on you. Jinyoung guided you to his dresser, pushing you into it with the insistence of a man starved for the feel of your body beneath his.
Your hands collided and fumbled with his as both of you made it your mission to get you out of all your clothes. When you reached behind yourself to fiddle with his zipper, Jinyoung grasped your wrist and brought it to the dresser, pinning you there.
Jinyoung was completely clothed when he pressed to your back. It was symbolic - you were naked and wholly vulnerable, but he was guarded and concealed.
Bracing yourself on the dresser, you closed your eyes and hummed with pleasure, shivering at the feel of his warm, roaming hands on your body. His palms skimmed and traced every expanse of your bare skin, touching you with the seasoned experience of a boy who once knew every inch of you intimately.
Jinyoung groaned at how soft you felt against his fingertips. You hadn’t changed at all. He could see every shaky breath you took and thrived off of the effect he had on you. Sensing you were desperate for his touch, Jinyoung kissed beneath your ear and coiled his arms around your naked waist like a noose.
“I want you to know something,” Jinyoung murmured, tonguing a path up the side of your neck while he tangled a fist in your ponytail. “But first, don’t utter a word.”
You nodded your understanding and submitted to his dominance, purring when his hand lowered between your legs.
“I’ve fucked many women since you left me,” he sneered in a low whisper. “None of them could fill the emptiness you left behind.”
A rancid taste took root in your mouth as the revelation weighed heavily on your heart. Other women had slept with your man. There were whores out there that knew how it felt to have him inside them. You clenched your jaw and checked your anger, because unadulterated rage was beginning to boil in your chest.
Smirking at the way you stiffened against him, Jinyoung teased his fingers beneath your lower lips, chuckling devilishly when he felt the dampness and warmth of your flesh. He coated his digits in your arousal, playfully teasing your entrance until your hips jerked forward involuntarily toward his hand.
Feeling you getting riled up, Jinyoung chose to growl in your ear, “I closed my eyes every time, imagining you on top of me, but I knew better. They weren’t as warm as you. They weren’t as tight as you. They didn’t make those sounds I know you make.”
You wanted to be aroused by this. You would have preferred his words to fuel your ego, but you were too busy being absolutely infuriated. The territorial streak you possessed flared and you quickly pushed on the dresser in an attempt to loosen his hold on you.
Jinyoung chuckled, releasing his grip on your hair to reaffirm his arms around your waist. “Where are you going, baby?” he teased against your neck.
Irritable, you growled, “You fucked other women?”
Jinyoung was thrilled to hear your envy and he squeezed your bare breast to annoy you some more. “Of course, I did,” he replied with a spiteful edge to his voice as he pushed his way into your entrance. “You weren’t around.”
You were momentarily distracted from being angry when his thumb rolled your clit and a tiny whimper left your lips. Jinyoung pumped his digits into your wet pussy, stroking your sweet spot with the pads of his fingers.
After a gasp at the feel of your walls stretching around his penetration, you clenched your jaw and spat, “You are the only person I have ever been with. You’re the only person I’ve ever fucking kissed, Jinyoung.”
Jinyoung snickered and sighed on your shoulder, “Are you jealous, sweetheart?”
“No,” you smarted bitterly. “How could I be jealous of what’s rightfully mine?”
Thrumming at your declaration, Jinyoung grinned with pride and whispered, “Would you feel better if I told you I just used them to get myself off? I never concerned myself with pleasuring them?”
That did little to mollify you and you told him as much. “You were still inside them.”
“I didn’t come in any of them. Couldn’t risk that.” His voice dropped to a whisper when he added, “I miss coming inside this gorgeous bitch though.”
You shivered at his words, biting your lip as you remembered the times Jinyoung would say the dirtiest, nastiest shit to turn you on. Meanwhile, your memories also reminded you how it felt to push Jinyoung over the edge, to feel him losing himself on top of you. With a wiggle of your ass against his crotch and the obvious erection trapped in his pants, you whined, “I’m still mad at you.”
Jinyoung crowded your back a little more aggressively, sinking his fingers into your warmth down to the base of his knuckles. Chuckling at the way your legs quivered and you struggled to keep balance, he teased, “Well, I suggest you get over that in the next two minutes.”
Squeezing the corners of the dresser, you cried, “What do you want from me?”
“Right now, I just want you to relax,” Jinyoung crooned, stroking his free hand across your breasts and toying with your hard nipples. “I really wanna watch you come.”
“Mm,” you moaned, bidding yourself to ignore how angry he made you and focus more on his fleeting desire to pleasure you.
Jinyoung sank his teeth into the base of your neck and tongued at the crimson mark forming. Inhaling the scent of your hair, he growled, “You always looked so beautiful when you came for me.”
Listening to your pussy squelching around his fingers, you panted, “Jinyoung, I’m wet enough. Take me.”
“Who are you telling?” he chided, his fingers moving at an even faster pace. “I’m the one with a hand between your legs.”
“Jinyoung,” you moaned, desperate.
Jinyoung rolled your clit with this thumb and groaned in the back of his throat at the feel of your arousal dripping down his hand. “Tell me what you want,” he sighed.
“I want...” you stammered, releasing little noises every time his digits plunged into your core, stroking your walls good and rough.
You knew what you were about to say. You had passed beyond want and settled into need. Winching your eyes closed and sinking your teeth into your lip, you imagined how it would feel to make love to him after all these years; to feel yourself one with him again.
You craved it on a primal level, mouth watering at the mere thought.
When you failed to answer, Jinyoung seemed to read your steamy thoughts and released a shaky, aroused breath on your neck, rumbling, “Tell me.”
“You inside me,” you confessed without hesitation.
God, he wanted that. Your pussy was warm and welcoming around his fingers. He knew your cunt would clamp down on his cock in a vice grip.
His hips stuttered, smacking into your bare ass from behind in a seeking thrust. His body wanted nothing more than to go on autopilot. Feeling your naked skin and your undeniable heat pushed him to the height of his tolerance.
But Jinyoung was well in control of his priorities and pitilessly reminded, “I am inside you.”
Rolling your eyes with annoyance, you whimpered, “That’s not what I...”
With a vengeance, Jinyoung shoved his fingers deep inside your walls to match his words, “You want my cock?”
“Yes,” you cried out, moving your hips to match the speed of his hand.
Hunger gripped his voice as he continued, “You want this thick cock to fill you up?”
“Yes,” you shouted, grasping the corners of the dresser until your knuckles began to ache.
“No.”
Blinking in surprise, you exclaimed, “What?”
“I said no.”
Frustrated, you bounced your hips, driving to meet his fingers and simultaneously ensuring your ass coaxed against the bulge in his jeans. Though you weren’t clueless as far as this power struggle between you and your ex-boyfriend was concerned, you asked, “Why?”
“You know why.”
The moment those words left his mouth, Jinyoung bore down on you, wedging you underneath him with no way of escape. You howled his name and pleaded for mercy when his hand picked up speed, drilling against your sweet spot while his thumb rubbed your clit borderline viciously.
The orgasm slammed into you, consuming you - mind and body. You moaned at the top of your lungs, the sound abruptly cutting off as you shook in his arms. Your back curved against his body and you pushed at his hand frantically when the stimulation became more than you could bear.
“Oh, god,” you sobbed, fluttering limply onto the dresser and burying your face between your arms. Jinyoung was still ever so slightly sinking his fingers in and out of your heat, coaxing the aftershocks out of you while he rutted his clothed cock along your ass.
“Good girl,” he snarled almost inaudibly, fighting a grin at how hard you had climaxed from his fingers alone. You were extremely sensitive, which led him to believe this was the first orgasm you had experienced in quite a while. And he wasn’t wrong.
Jinyoung kept his body draped over yours and grabbed you by the throat. His lips were wet with saliva as he blazed a trail up the side of your neck before whispering, “I would love nothing more than to fuck the shit out of you. To stretch you open with my cock and fill you with cum like you want, but I won’t. Not until you beg me and not a moment before you admit you were wrong for leaving me the way you did.”
Tears pricked your eyes from the ministrations of his thumb rolling your engorged bundle of nerves, but were spurned even further by his words. You merely lay there with his body overtop yours, feeling the cold of the dresser against your breasts, and wishing to all the heavens he would just take you.
But more than anything, you wanted him to forgive you.
Jinyoung withdrew his hand and wiped your juices off on his jeans carelessly before opening the drawer at your side and finding a roomy shirt for you to wear.
“I’m back to being mad at you,” you hissed after finally lifting yourself from the dresser.
Jinyoung said nothing, though he gave you a stern, unaffected look before pulling the sweater over your head. You lifted your arms into the air and allowed him to dress you. Then, you shuffled to his bed.
You were disappointed but obviously not surprised when he didn’t join you. Noting an outline of the hard dick in his jeans, you watched him step toward the bathroom and considered pressing your ear to the door to listen to him relieve himself.
“By the way, I lied,” Jinyoung said as he stood in the open doorway.
Shifting under the blankets, you asked with indifference, “About what?”
Jinyoung settled his gaze on you, licking his lips at the sight of you sated and comfortable in his bed, and confessed, “I haven’t touched any women since you. I don’t have anything to give to another person. You took it all.”
Then, he closed the bathroom door behind him and left you to your solitary thoughts, missing the sight of the victorious smile that claimed your swollen lips.
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a/n : this story was previously Lacuna on my old blog, minheoney. I’m really excited to finally finish it! This fic was my baby for so long and I’m ridiculously happy to give it a new home :)
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Favorite Voice Actors
For those of you that know me, you know that my number one special interest is cartoons and the people that voice my favorite characters. Studying my heroes and watching them in interviews became a favorite pass time of mine. A lot of my friends thought that it was really weird and they stopped talking to me because of it. For a long time before I got diagnosed as having aspergers I talked forever about it. I think that both bored and confused people. For me, I love voice acting because anybody can be anything. You can watch a show and years later be like I know that voice it’s insert name here if you’re like me. True, certain actors have something that is brought to every character (I can think of one prime example later on down the list) but it is always about the heart that they put into their characters. 
10. Charlie Adler: I’ll admit that I am mostly a fan of him due to the amount of work that he has done and the quantity. This man was the voice of Cow, Chicken and Big Red guy in Cow and Chicken. True, this show was past my time (and if it wasn’t I feel like it would get the Fairly OddParents treatment where my parents would forbid me to watch it.) When I listened to his episode of Talkin’ Toons I found his story’s really interesting and compelling. I can only imagine how much work and effort went into all of his characters in that show. To develop one character is one thing but to be able to switch between them like a deck of cards is a completely different thing. I did however watch a lot of Brandy and Mr. Whiskers when I was younger!! Growing up with that show and hearing him play Mr. Whiskers brought me a lot of joy when I was sick at home and for that I will always be a huge fan of his voice and his work. 
9. Jim Cummings. If I were to say that one voice actor had a ton of versatility it would probably be him. I was a major Tigger fan when I was growing up. Not just that but I loved Raymond when Princess and The Frog came out. He is actually my mom’s favorite voice actor. But I also loved CatDog when I would see that on reruns, I grew to love Darkwing Duck and countless other shows that he leant his voice to. Studying voice acting and the people that do it has led to me finding some things out that I would rather not. Especially when I found that he wasn’t actually the nicest person in real life. But, to me that doesn’t matter when it comes to this list. He is here because so many of his characters made my childhood just a little bit happier. When I was thinking about favorite voice actors I considered two things, personality and character content. This one is here just for character content. 
8. Bob Bergen: I reblogged a post a long time ago with this man at the helm. What he can do every time I see him do it blows my mind. Bob has been the voice of Porky Pig since pretty much Tiny Toons back in the early 90′s. He has stated that there have been some others but when I think Porky this is the name that comes along with it. Watching him do his thing is something that continually blows my mind. Listening to his life story on Rob Paulsen’s podcast Talkin’ Toons is something that inspired me more than anything. It’s this story of persistence and resilience from a young age. He is one of the few voice actors that actually got to talk with Mel Blanc when he was fourteen. I love his genuine heart and the ability that he has to jump into his character full force. Porky was a big portion of my childhood and I grew up laughing at his “silly” stutter. It wasn’t until I got older and learned that the stutter is an actual art form that I learned something entirely different. 
7. Richard Horvitz: Most of you that know me might be surprised at this rather seemingly low placement for somebody that I greatly admire. I mean he was Invader Zim and Billy from Billy and Mandy for crying out loud!! I just bought a print for the man but really when I thought about it, he hasn’t really inspired me as much as my top six have. I love his sense of humor and his love of musical theater but he hasn’t taught me anything life altering. I think that he is hands down the funniest voice actor in Hollywood. I could listen to him make jokes forever and just talk in his voice but at the same time he is so other worldly and knows so much about the craft that it inspired me that way. He is as most of his fans joke “the dad voice actor” complete with dad jokes. I love Invader Zim so much, the show has helped me through a lot of loneliness and emotional moments in my life reminding me to keep laughing at life’s craziness. I also love Moxxie from Helluva Boss. All in all Richard is a fabulous man and actor. He has helped me figure out the kind of person that I wanted to be and I owe him a lot of laughter hours. 
6. Greg Cipes: Can I talk about probably my OG hero for voice acting? When I was six I spent a lot of time in front of the television watching the original Teen Titans. My favorite character was Beast Boy his character that he played. When I say that BB changed the way that I think about my life that is not an exaggeration. He was one of the first characters that made me laugh so hard my stomach hurt. Growing up I had to fight people for his validation. It seemed like nobody loved him as much as I did. Cut to me in middle school I’m a bit more grownup and I start channel flipping. I wind up on Nickelodeon and see the reboot of Ninja Turtles. I figure I’ll watch it and see what all the hype is about. I hear Mikey open his mouth and instantly I get this rush of my childhood coming back. It was one of the first times that I made the connection between voice actor and character. Greg taught me so much vicariously through his character. He taught me about fun and laughter, about the importance of feeling lonely doesn’t mean that you’re alone in the world and even if you’re the goofball that doesn’t mean that’s all you have to be. The fact that he is such a relaxed and genuine person only adds to the admiration of this vegan beach bum. 
5. Corey Burton: This is a very personal hero of mine. It’s one that I hold very close to me because of one thing. As far as I know, there have been very few voice actors on the autism spectrum. Corey is the only one that I have ever found. He’s the man that actually surpassed every expectation and said screw live performing it makes me anxious I’m going to get my experience through something that I know I’m good at radio. So he does radio and becomes really good at that. Then he goes to cartoons. He does Dale in Chip And Dale Rescue Rangers with a certain feminine icon of mine. He gets Ludwig Von Drake and has been that voice actor since the original DuckTales. Then he hits the peak, he was Mole in Atlantis Lost Empire a big budget Disney movie. I am so often inspired by my top six favorite voice actors. They are the ones that took me by the figurative hand and told me hey you can do get through whatever it is that you are struggling with. It just takes a little bit of laughter through the bad times, and an optimistic attitude that things will slowly but surely get better. Corey was the one that actually got himself to the top of the mountain and got to say that he did it. I admire that about him so much because for a while I thought to myself “Hey, he did it so can I”. 
4. J Michael Tatum: In terms of anime voice actors, even though I love a great many, only one has ever remained of legend status. It comes yet again with a rather personal story. I was 17, lost and a little bit confused. I knew that I was ace but I had no idea how to tell my parents. It was around this time when I was getting back into anime due to Yuri On Ice, Space Dandy and Princess Jellyfish. I decide what the hell I’m going to watch some panels of my favorite voice actors for anime haven’t done that since I was thirteen. I had always loved Tatum as Kyoya Ootori in Ouran High School Host Club and France in Hetalia but other than that I didn’t know very much about him. I looked up panels for him and came across one for Florida Anime Con filmed that year. In it, he talked about being gay a lot. It implanted a seed that would inspire me. If he could be out and proud then why was I stoping myself? It might sound silly or stupid to some but to me it changed everything. From that moment on I loved everything Tatum. It led me to discover my love for Rei in Free, Okabe in Stein’s Gate and many other countless roles of his. 
3. Tom Kenny: This man right here, he is the OG voice actor special interest of mine. He is the first name that I remember hearing because he did so much for Nickelodeon showing children how he did his most iconic voice. Who is that iconic voice you may ask yourself? Well it’s Spongebob flipping patties Squarepants. If that alone doesn’t put him at this spot then I don’t know what does. Like so many children in the early 200s I spent a good chunk of my childhood with me and my parents on the couch and this show on the television screen. You want to talk about legacy? This man voiced his way into the hearts of millions of children across the united states. I remember the first time I saw his actual face. I was flipping through channels and I saw this man on Nickelodeon. He had a goofy smile on his face and I figured what the hell I’ll give this a watch even though it’s not a cartoon. Then he started talking he introduced himself as Tom Kenny. Then he starts doing Spongebob. My five year old mind was blown. I never forgot his name ever since. Every time I would watch Teen Titans and Mambo would be on that episode I would be like “Oh that’s Spongebob’s voice actor”. It was that moment that changed everything for me. I have never looked back from my main special interest ever since. He has helped me through so much. Whether he be my favorite exorbitant yellow sponge, or Dog on CatDog, or Lazlo on Camp Lazlo part of me will always be with Tom Kenny. Keep making children happy Tom you’ve been doing a great job so far. 
2. Tress MacNeille: Hoo boy this is a big one for me. For those of you that haven’t ever been around here before and don’t know the name of my character on my icon her name is Dot Warner (the Warner sister) and this is her voice actress. I hope that she changes your life and inspires you as much as she has mine. When I was nine I had an incredible fourth grade teacher. She showed us Yakko’s Nations Of The World for geography class. She also encouraged us to watch the rest of the show because it was full of educational songs and humor. I went home that day with on thought in mind. I wanted to watch the rest of that series. I go home and I make one distinction, hey that Warner sister I can kind of talk like her a little bit if I try hard enough. It was a little bit harder back in those days and I talk a lot more like her now with the reboot out in the world. This is the first and only impression I can do. I can do Dot and that’s it. And to me that was what mattered I didn’t need to be able to do anybody else. There aren’t a whole lot of woman voice actress’s that can keep working. All we have is Tara Strong, Cree Summer and the one and only goddess Tress MacNeille. Tress has helped me out so much in my life. I have never been the most confident person alive but from a young age hearing her absolutely smack down the actors of her brother’s in the show (Rob Paulsen and Jess Harnell) something about that inspired me. It was around this point in my life that I learned I can speak my mind and just not give a hoot if anybody feels the same way that I do. I can make my opinions known to other people. I was sixteen when I made that discovery and Tress was there for me all the way cheering me on in her Dot voice.  I owe a lot to her and I wish that she was more active on social media so that I could have the opportunity to thank her for everything that she has done vicariously for me. 
1. Rob Paulsen: If you were surprised by this, we probably haven’t talked before. At least not extensively because my dog do I love this man!! He has inspired me more than any other and he is not just my favorite voice actor but I consider him my ultimate hero in life. Where do I even start with him? There have been so many moments where I’ve fallen in love with one of his characters. I suppose one should start at the beginning. As I mentioned with Tress, my introduction through Animaniacs was Yakko’s Nations Of The World. This moment it changed everything for me because this was the first time that I could actually remember seeing Rob do a role. Yakko was the first cartoon character to actually make an impact on me. It was the first time that I ever loved a character that deeply. It was also the first time I ever made my own character to pair up with a canon character not even knowing that I was doing it. Ever since then a part of me has known okay that’s what Rob talks like. Now thanks to Tom Kenny I can recognize him in other places. And recognize him I did. From there I found that he was Carl on Jimmy Neutron, Mark Chang my favorite character on Fairly OddParents and countless other roles that we could be here all day for. As I mentioned, I was in middle school when the 2012 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were originally airing. When I watched that first episode, Donatello sounded really familiar to me. So I waited to the end credits only to find out that holy hell that was Rob!! The same person that played my favorite fast talking older brother. I found out about his fight with cancer a few years after it happened. This is when he went from favorite voice actor to hero legend status. He fought his way out of hell so that he could continue to sing “United States, Canada, Mexico, Panama, Heidi, Jamaica, Peru” until the end of his days. Reading his book changed my life forever as it gave me insight to not just the man who made me laugh, cry and cry laughing listening to his podcast but that same man had a whole ass heart and soul that he put into every character that he did. I find it really hard to explain what he means to me. He’s my hero, the one that made me laugh when I was a sad and lonely elementary schooler and the one that continues to bring me back to my childhood every time I see him in a show. I don’t feel the compulsion to give strangers hugs very often but if I ever met Rob I don’t think that I would be able to stop myself from giving a hug and just telling him thank you. Thank you for making my childhood and the childhoods of countless others much better than they would have been without you. 
And that’s it folks!! Whew that’s a lot of me rambling but I feel a bit better now. Finals preparation week has officially started for me and I just wanted to give myself this big ol’ boost of serotonin before I went into it.     
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halothenthehorns · 3 years
Text
All in the Family
Chapter 137: Horace Slughorn
Regulus crashed headfirst into a toilet with a knitted cover on the lid to soften the blow. He still cursed and grumbled for it while looking around and found the rest of the décor matching. A knitted stuffed cat on the sink by the soap and a box of crystalized pineapple, unopened. There was a walk in shower, as well as a pile of knitting pattern magazines for reading leisure in a wicker basket he'd knocked over along with the book, its silver spine standing out in here.
Not exactly tempted to sit on the toilet to read, he exited into the hall to find pictures on the wall that weren't alluding to an easy hint of where they were, an array of kids of various ages in frames down to the stairs. He stopped to admire them for a moment, taking a second to realize he could only know they weren't wizards because they weren't moving, but otherwise there was no clear difference. How fascinating, Mother always spoke as if there should be something. He no longer tried to convince himself he just wasn't seeing it, but maybe there just wasn't anything inherently 'different' about them either, aside from the lack of magic.
The entire house was still silent though, not a stair creaked as he went down into the dimly lit living room where a scene of total devastation met his eyes. The others were frozen in place, as if afraid to move once more and find something they shouldn't. Surely their landing hadn't caused this destruction, and his pulse quickened with worry.
The door was blasted off its hinges, a grandfather clock lay splintered at their feet, its face cracked, its pendulum lying a little farther away like a dropped sword pointing right at where Evans was still on hands and knees. A piano was on its side, its keys strewn across the floor, Peter tangled up in the wires. The wreckage of a fallen chandelier glittered nearby, Longbottom and Smith still had bits of it in their hair and clothes. Cushions lay deflated, feathers oozing from slashes in their sides, the Marauders weren't even at fault judging from the stark white faces; fragments of glass and china lay like powder over everything, and there were even chunks and gashes in the walls. Regulus immediately lit his wand and raised it high, giving illumination to something darkly red and glutinous spattered over the flowered wallpaper.
When Peter saw him at the foot of the stairs, the streetlights outside glinting off the bright cover of the book even before he'd lit his wand, and completely unharmed he couldn't help a relieved sigh. He'd done a quick count as always and hysterically wonderd for a moment if Regulus had just been blasted to smithereens from this recent slam. Instead, as he hovered on the last stair with the book in hand and a white face, he quietly whispered as calmly as he could, "start getting us out of here please?"
He swallowed convulsively, eyes still flinching to every corner looking for something none of them wanted to see again, but finally opened and read the chapter title that illuminated some horrible answer to this.
"What the hell has he been up to in this future?" Potter quietly demanded, getting slowly but steadily to his feet. Nothing attacked him like Moody's place, so the others cautiously began doing the same, but nobody wanted to answer him.
Dumbledore and Harry had no idea what they were fixing to walk into with their pleasant little evening stroll, destination this place. He even read right over the passage on Inferi like that was nothing in the face of this. They all felt beside themselves Harry was fixing to just be brutally reminded of the casualties of war even with the headmaster there for him this time.
So when the ruse was revealed, nobody could quite blame Potter shouting at the top of his lungs, "that arse!"
Regulus was so disgruntled at his near heart failure being a trick himself he gave the book an ugly toss into the mess and heavily contemplated for a moment jabbing his own wand into every available bit of furniture just to be safe. Still muttering some of Kreacher's favorite foul tongues, he went over to the piano and began helping disentangle Peter.
The others all went to scatter away in frustration from here, Alice and Longbottom heading towards the kitchen, Sirius and Lupin going up the stairs, but the other four stayed uneasily in the mess, an answer still more tempting to them even if they would have given their potions teacher a good whack upside the head for it.
Evans finally went for the book again with a look of distaste like she used to give Potter all the time. He still watched her avidly for a few moments before an odd look passed his face and he went jogging up the stairs. Regulus's stomach was still twisted into a painful knot of unease for this abrupt turn around of their environment being all a farce and glared at his retreating feet. At least Sirius was making an effort, he wouldn't be surprised though if Potter went up there and encouraged Sirius to stay the hell away from both of them at this rate.
Peter watched too in fascination as that was the first time in his life he'd ever seen Prongs purposely turn away from her when he had no good reason to. He was tempted to follow and ask, but still he hesitated.
Sirius had offered him a bridge, back there in Malfoy's room, but it wasn't just Sirius' continued attitude that was putting him off trying to coexist with the other three. Remus and James had never been so vivid in their reaction to him, but he still felt it sometimes. Like the chunks missing from the wall. The place still stood around them, but even when it was fixed as it was in the book, he doubted he could ever get the image from his mind again of how that betrayal felt he'd never want to cause. It still felt safer then to never let it go that far at all. He still wanted to try and be friends, just maybe not best friends anymore. Like Neville he supposed, he could stay on the fringes and still be on good terms with them, right?
Instead, he turned to Regulus and gave an explanation he knew was owed, now that there was no chance of a dead body being around. "Sirius is worried about you, by the way. In case you were wondering."
Regulus looked startled at the abrupt change of topic, but then smiled in a way Peter so rarely saw as he glanced at the stairs.
"He was apologizing, for back in the Forest, said he was sorry for getting in the middle when he knows he hasn't been helping before that. Well, in his own way," Peter finished with an awkward laugh. "It's pretty funny to watch someone roll their eyes when they're closed." He tacked on for levity.
Regulus just watched steadily for the rest, that didn't feel like something Sirius wouldn't say in front of him.
"Okay yeah," Peter relented, "he also tried to ask what we were talking about, but I wasn't telling him what you told me. Not unless you want me to."
"Thanks," Regulus whispered in surprise, though he didn't know why he was, he knew Peter was good at keeping secrets. It wasn't even really a secret he was so afraid of this future, but nobody had ever given him the option before to decide who knew what about him.
He was tempted to go find Sirius now and talk to him, but Peter told him quietly, "maybe give Sirius a moment? You probably don't want to bother them messing around here."
Regulus didn't quite get the odd tone but believed him. He'd waited this long, he could wait a bit longer to try talking to his brother, they had plenty of time left and he was still plenty curious to pay attention to this.
Remus shivered in distaste for the room he wandered into, despite its clear opulence. The silk sheets and plump pillows spoke of a well rested bed, but he quickly bypassed that for the window despite the fact he could feel well enough there was no full moon, but the mist clung to these very streets as well. He made nonsense patterns in the dew and thought hard about how he could get around his stupid promise to Sirius about telling James and yet knew full well all secrets had a way of coming out eventually, Slughorn hadn't been able to avoid Dumbledore for long- Then someone grabbed him from behind.
"Stop screaming you idiot, it's still me."*
"Sirius, I rarely find that less of a reason to scream," Remus tried to laugh, but Sirius didn't seem in the talkative sort of mood as his hands dropped to his waist. "Are you insane?" He giggled even as he flicked his wand and the door locked. Not permanently, obviously, but it would give them some warning. "This isn't just a bit weird?" He still half expected Slughorn to pop up any moment after that heart attack moment, he'd never look at furniture around that man the same way again.
"It's on my bucket list to do this in a teacher's office," Sirius breathed into his ear. "This is the next best thing. Not up for it?" He pressed his lips down hard on Remus's throat and moaned when he felt Remus swallow convulsively.
'Ask you idiot, now, before this goes any further,' he tried keeping a straight head even as he let himself be pulled towards the bed, shamelessly helping Sirius out of his clothes with every step. "This um, list of yours-" he was panting already, what the hell did it matter again what this meant to Sirius so long as he kept doing that with his lips? "What, um, I mean who," he'd already forgotten his question anyways as Sirius sunk onto the bed and grinned up at him.
"Relax Moony, I'll give you a break when we get back, I wouldn't peg you for wanting to do half the shit I get up to anyways," he laughed as he coaxed Remus on top of him.
He'd only been half listening as he eagerly straddled him, nipping at his neck and jaw while palming him through the last of his clothes, but froze suddenly as what he said really sunk in, and a flair of possessiveness caused his hand to constrict.
Sirius gasped eagerly, but Remus' voice came out more clipped than he'd ever believe while holding Sirius like this, "what does that mean?"
Padfoot didn't seem to hear the warning, that wild, addicting laugh inches from his lips, his legs nudging him into a rocking motion as he teased, "I'll let you see the rest later. You really want to talk about this, now?" His breath was whiney and nearly pleading by the end as Remus hadn't yet moved again.
'Yes,' he knew he should have said. "Nope," he whispered, eagerly succumbing.*
It was far enough back on his neck even Sirius had to twist in the mirror to see it right. Nobody should be able to do the same, his hair covered it well. Sirius checked himself one last time as he smoothed the long black locks back perfectly to hide the mark, deciding he only looked as rumpled as everyone else for this near constant ricochet through reality before finally exiting the bathroom, prize now in his bag. Who kept sweets in their bathroom besides this lunatic? Remus probably would if he got his own house...He licked his lips longingly as he looked back towards Slughorn's room, but knew better than to go back, telling himself he'd risked enough for now. Moony needed a break and would understand if he just didn't come back, maybe he really did just want an alone moment Sirius wasn't giving him.
He'd pretty effectively blocked out Evans's voice as Slughorn already tried reminiscing to Harry about his old position, but the only thing he cared about for this anyways was that Snape should now be gone. He certainly hoped so, it was the only plausible reason he'd allow for this old walrus being back in school, none of the Marauders particularly liked him, so it wasn't at all surprising when he found Prongs behind a secret wall and rummaging through several jars of potions unabashedly, a golden vial flashing about, a strong smell of chocolate lingering in the air as he uncorked something and then quickly put it back.
"Moony okay?" He asked without looking away, he clearly wasn't that concerned with the small yelp of fright he'd caused Remus before muffling the door. "Heard something, what were you guys doing down there? Found this shit though-"
Sirius grinned in delight as he leaned against the wall to see him holding a glass flask full of a thick, mud like substance up curiously with a look Sirius was already on board with. "Fancy a swig Prongs?"
"Yeah, actually," he grinned remorselessly as he pulled the stopper out. "Care for a wager Padfoot?"
"Whoever gets caught first owes the other a galleon," Sirius instantly agreed.
Everybody would surely enjoy the laugh once they realized what the two had pulled, and this was a harmless spot of fun! Sirius grabbed up two dusty but waiting glasses and blew on them impatiently as James pulled out the cork and let the disgusting semi-liquid squelch out a shot into each.
James pocketed the rest and casually plucked a few hairs from his head and dropped it in. It looked almost as if it was pulsing in the cup, the thick maroon concoction was quivering along the edges just waiting for something to happen. He reached a finger out and traced along the edge with an amused smile, he was tempted to drink it himself no matter the uselessness of the action. He glanced curiously at Sirius to see him hesitating though and snorted in amusement as he was running his hand vainly through his hair. "Not going to make me drink your toenails are you prat?"
Sirius was quite tempted to spit into his just to lord that over him, he knew James would still drink it anyways, but ah, do to recent activities, he wasn't sure how much of it would be his own. So glaring at the arse, he delicately plucked at one precious lock, and winced with little pain as it came loose but watched eagerly as he dropped it down.
It was the brightest of scarlets, like if the sun had struck a ruby just right and dumped the color into his cup. He swirled it about like a fine wine and pursed his lips to stop the urge from licking it, but finally swapping cups and grinning like the loons they were as they tossed them back.
The two gasped in unison for how unpleasant the whole thing felt, but thankfully it was over quickly enough. They were shaking their heads though, still unintentionally mimicking each other as they held their new hands in front of their faces.
"Glory Prongs, it's a good thing you haven't lost your glasses. You'd be even more useless without them." It was so weird to hear his own voice, the deer nickname coming from his throat. James decided he didn't really like it as he figured out why the world was blurry and painful to focus on, removing them and passing them wordlessly along. His nose felt weirdly light and bare despite the fact Sirius' should feel no such thing.
Finally though he could properly see, himself. He briefly wondered for a moment if this could be sort of like looking at his son later, before quickly reminding himself like he had downstairs to knock off those kinds of thoughts now.
The two wordlessly exchanged clothes and kept uncomfortably flexing their shoulders and stretching, but by the time they were done it felt almost bearable.
"Don't know how that Crouch Jr. freak managed this for a year," James grumbled, still disturbed to not hear his voice come out and be staring at himself. "This is weird."
"Well thankfully the effects aren't permanent," Sirius sniffed, scratching oddly at his bare neck. "May the best man win!"
"I intend to," he said at once, fighting back the urge to pull Sirius' hair into a ponytail, it was heavier than he'd expected and he felt flush. Though after running his fingers uncomfortably through it for a moment he admitted to himself he had no idea how and he'd probably just hurt himself and either cause Sirius to piss himself with laughter or threaten bodily harm, either was likely.
The book had still been going, and Sirius grinned eagerly as he made his way towards the living room, at least that was a familiar expression on his own face. He obviously thought he could last longest around Evans, and he was probably right, he'd just have to stand there looking at her, the git. There was no fun in that though, and while Sirius was probably more concerned with winning and bragging rights, James wanted a challenge, so he went off in the direction he'd seen Remus go.
He found him quickly enough in Slughorn's room of all places and tried not to look too pleased he found him fidgeting with his shirt and a contemplative look on his face. The bed was all kinds of messed up like he'd been jumping on it for some reason. He had to remind himself not to try and falsify his voice when Remus glanced up. "What's on your mind Moony?"
"My treat," he sniffed. "Where's that pineapple you promised, I'm withholding round two until then."
James silently cursed himself and instantly regretted this, clearly he had missed a conversation between them and had no idea what they'd been up to. Still, he was nothing if not adaptable, and stepped forward to try and sooth out, "you'll get that crystal pineapple when I get mine."
At first he'd thought it might have worked, Remus got a smirk in place that always meant he was up to something, but then he whispered, "is that a challenge?" His hand moved to rest on the inside of James' thigh.
He jumped back like he'd been electrocuted again, accompanied by a high-pitched yelp that he would deny upon death he could ever make. He heard distantly something dropped in surprise in another room, his nose scrunched up in involuntary disgust as he watched Remus in concern. "The hell mate?"
"What-" he looked as confused as James felt now, but then he scrutinized him for several long seconds and demanded, "James?" His own face puckered with some anger and grotesque now.
"Yeah?" It took a moment for him to remember why his voice still sounded odd, and it wasn't all shock. He'd honestly forgotten he was in Sirius' body there for a moment. "How'd you know it was me?" He was only minorly distracted as he realized he lost and still watched his hand wearily, though it had fallen back into his lap.
"Because Sirius has never in his life done that," Remus said stiffly, and James froze in surprise as Moony's eyes flickered up to his own hand, which had been unintentionally ruffling up his hair with nerves. He cleared his throat awkwardly and smoothed his hand down the long main instead, but he knew the gig was up.
"Right," he muttered, far more concerned than anything still and not trying to play it off. "Found some Polyjuice Potions in Slughorn's stores, thought we'd have some fun, sure you didn't find anything you shouldn't have drunk? Like Essence of Insanity?"
Shock quickly collapsed down on Remus, he surged to his feet with a look of pure terror. "Oh shit, James? Um, look, we, I mean I, he was going to-" his eyes began darting to the door and back to him and changed to cussing fluently and backing away from him nearly to the wall.
"Hey, Remus, relax," James quickly soothed, taking a step towards him without even thinking. "I'm not angry, alright, breathe mate. Just, what the hell?"
Remus took several shaky breaths and still wouldn't even look at him, and James was starting to feel really bad. In his defense, that had come out of bloody nowhere, but Remus obviously hadn't done it on purpose, right? Maybe he'd been trying to grab at Sirius as a weird joke or whatever, hell is that what they kept whispering about, had Padfoot figured it out? They'd made weirder werewolf jokes to each other if so. He didn't at all want Remus to think he'd care if the guy was gay, he half suspected it sometimes as he showed such little interest in the girls back at school.
"Everything okay in here?"
The two jumped and turned around to see Evans of all people standing in the doorway, a look of genuine concern on her face as she watched the two. "There's been shouting." She clarified when the silence persisted.
"Um, yeah," he thought he grinned believably enough. He now had to fight off the compulsion with more effort than ever not to rumple up his hair in delight at the mere sight of her and was almost grateful for Moony catching him at that.
She still hovered, and both suddenly realized the book had been silent for quite some time, but there was still some kind of raised voice they'd been blocking out, and maybe it wasn't 'Sirius' shouting she'd meant. "Might want to check on your mate," she finally said, and confirmed as she shrugged and walked back off.
The two exchanged a very concerned look, what the hell had Sirius gotten himself up to? James went after her at once, beckoning to Remus without a second thought and filing this away for later. Moony thankfully followed without hesitation, even if he was a few paces behind than was natural.
She'd only got about halfway through the chapter and was feeling quite dispirited their teacher was on the run from Death Eater's in this Muggle neighborhood, but at least he'd agreed to come back. Dumbledore had been stepping into the broom shed back at the Burrow when Potter came in. There was an odd air about him, he kept scratching at the back of his neck and rotating his shoulders as he went and sat on the floor watching her with a stupider look than usual on his face.
Regulus and Pettigrew had been having some quiet kind of conversation about this new development and all it entailed for Hogwarts staffing. It didn't seem Potter was going to participate, until Pettigrew turned to him and asked, "What do you say Prongs, would you swap Vector out for anyone or take our chances?"
"Um," Sirius stuttered for only a moment. Damn, he hadn't taken Arithmancy with those three idiots, but he'd heard them complain enough over the years he could get along. "Guess we'll keep her around and avoid her, we've enough practice."
Regulus gave him a rather testy look he couldn't begin to guess at, he really didn't know his brother at all anymore.
One bridge at a time, he amended in his head. He still wasn't even clear on Regulus' loyalties. He was asking questions now and clearly trying to loosen up, but still defending the house-elf that got him killed and he still could not separate from their parents no matter what Regulus tried to say.
Peter kept going in an off-hand kind of way of forced casualness still, "look, I'm sure you're curious what Sirius was saying-"
"Not really," Sirius grinned.
Peter looked floored and a little hurt, so Sirius quickly gave himself a mental kick and redirected, "it's between you two." He stopped there and bit his tongue, he wasn't going to speak for Prongs and say everything was all good. James had been the one to convince him to even start at forgiving Peter, but he wasn't going to assume that meant he was all good either.
"He listens to you though," Peter tried to keep going, "and I was just hoping you could tell him-"
'Oh crap,' Sirius tried right then to give it up, he was not going to let Peter think he was talking to James and cause another fight later for this stupid prank! "Hey Wormtail-" Peter was already looking so annoyed, how had this gone so wrong so fast?
"Would you let me finish real quick-"
"No, really mate, I'm not-"
Regulus snapped.
He admired Peter was trying to keep going now around the obnoxious bloke still not taking a hint, but he couldn't just sit here and watch this anymore. "Can you not let him finish one bloody sentence without your opinion! I am so sick of you thinking you know what's best for everyone around here, no one elected you leader!"
He did not hear the thunk of something being dropped in the kitchen, nor realize Evans had lowered the book and was looking at them wearily before getting up, probably to finish reading in another room, though he doubted he'd take in a word of it now.
Peter felt too floored to notice any of it either, fighting down the urge to get between Regulus and James any second, but James didn't go for his wand. He didn't even seem upset or angry. Instead, there was some mingled look of pity, almost regret on his face which didn't at all track with the way he kept side-eying Regulus lately.
Sirius watched, half in fascination half in guilt as he let Regulus tear into Prongs, wincing for each blow his little brother dealt and glad to be taking this for James regardless.
"Ever since Sirius came home that first bloody summer all he's talked about is your bloody opinion on everything and I'm sick of hearing it!"
Sirius was starting to get annoyed by that point, he wasn't some mindless yup like his little brother and let Prongs speak for him, but he forced himself to hold his tongue and let Regulus get it all out now, he didn't even notice the other three coming back down the stairs.
James sure as hell wasn't going to allow the same when he took the scene in. He wasn't going to let Sirius' new passive approach to the two of them allow them to dog ear his best mate like that, and he immediately shoved Regulus. "Back off you bastard, now!"
Regulus looked stricken for just a moment before his face settled back into that cool mask of indifference the Black's carried so well. Sirius felt a pang in his heart the kid managed that at his age, his little brother even twitched for his wand, but Sirius forced his way between the two, snatching the vial out of James's pocket before this could escalate.
"Listen, we swapped bodies, okay! James and I, we found some Polyjuice Potion, we thought it would be fun! Merlin, how long you been holding that in Reg?" He still didn't really regret it when Regulus gave the both of them a look of deepest loathing and stormed up the stairs, slamming something up there. He didn't want to know what Prongs really would have said to him if he'd been down here this whole time.
Evans gave them a scathing look as well and turned quickly away to finish, muttering about their idiocies and stupid pranks again. Even Moony wouldn't meet his eye and Longbottom and Alice were watching from the kitchen with slightly open mouths like they still couldn't believe the stupidity they got themselves into.
Only Peter was left actually looking at them, and he was biting his lip to hold back a smile. Little shit. Whether he actually found the whole thing funny or was laughing at them neither could really be sure, and that was as irksome as Regulus' reaction.
The two gave each other exasperated looks, Sirius finally saying, "think we should hold off trying to get the others to laugh for now Prongs?"
"Guess there's no point in a prank if no one's going to laugh, not even us," he huffed in agreement, still eyeing the stairs with great dislike Sirius was far too used to seeing on his own face regarding his brother, but for the first time realizing James hadn't just been defending him, or himself, whichever. There was something else in what had just happened.
Evans watched them for a few more moments before saying with a guilty look upstairs the chapter was done and finishing good as her word.
HPHPHPH
You didn't really think I could go the whole book without some sibling drama did you? I wouldn't know what to do with myself at this rate!
* Porn will be posted in a separate post shortly.
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blankdblank · 3 years
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Hobbit Soulmate Pt 27
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“Gimli!” Straight out of the gate your head turned finding Sean there already waiting at the car from his own spot on the plane way up in the front sending him out much sooner than the pair of you. Warmly he wrapped you in a hug and nodded to Joe behind you who grinned doing the same while people who had cameras stole the chance to take pictures if the star and his mostly unknown friends. Only, most of the staff here had at least an idea of who you were having seen you in ample press pictures with the rest of the wider known cast. “Fly alright? You look a bit beat.”
Shaking your head you replied, “Flight was good. Glad to be back, nothing but rain back in New  York past few days.” Sean smirked making you giggle, “It’s different here. Little drizzles, that was buckets and my feet are sore from having to walk after the subway flooded twice. 37 blocks, both ways.”
“Ow,” he chuckled smoothing his hand over your back saying, “I’m guessing you don’t have a car.”
“Nope, and everything on my block is no parking, other than a garage three streets over that is twelve bucks a day. No thank you.”
He chuckled again easing his arm around your back to kiss the top of your head asking, “No Richard this time?”
“He had some auditions. But he’s pretty happy with his walk on bits he did get last year.”
“No doubt he’ll miss you terribly.”
You smirked up at him saying, “Well we’re doing Holidays again in England, got asked to go to Oxford for a story they’re writing on recent alumni.”
Sean, “Oh that’s good.”
Joe nodded, “One of the few from the Arts division chosen, most are academics, scientists and a couple musicians that got hired by exclusive orchestras.”
“Mainly a hopeful bit for mine, what I could do I think. Guesses on how my next premier will go.”
Sean smiled, “Do we get invited?”
Smiling back at him you said, “I did have the chance to name the closest 20 on these films to come see it, if you can. At least for the one in London, the premier in America I had to leave a spot for Jennifer Lopez, she’s been asking about it. No doubt Jennifer Garner and Colin Farrell will want in on the fun after sneaking from their film sets to mine a few times.”
In a hum he replied, “Well I look forward to it.” Turning his head to your father who eyed the familiar driver huffing to calm himself after his late arrival.
Shaking his head he approached saying, “I am so sorry. Some bozo thought he could park on the bridge halfway here and it is just crawling.”
“It’s okay,” you three said and you added, “We knew you wouldn’t be late unless there was some foolishness about. If it helps my driver in Canada got deterred by a moose.” Causing his smile to creep out and his hand to extend claiming your bag to carry back to the car waiting for you he put in the trunk along with the others.  “Thank you.”
Already with their keys most of the cast had let themselves into their usual rooms in the shared cottages on the compound and while you were unloading your bags Ian came up behind you saying, “Now you absolutely have to tell me what this delightful film is going to be about.”
Without turning you started to giggle and hoisted your duffel bag to your shoulder, “How big is the press for this? Everyone keeps asking me about it.”
Ian smiled saying, “Merely because my Dear, you have neglected to share just what the film is about. Suspense is everything.”
Sean, “I haven’t gotten an answer yet either.” Hoisting his bag out.
“That is because it sort of sounds ridiculous when I describe the film.”
Ian simply replied, “Try me.”
You sighed saying, “I am a ballet dancing Selki in a traveling show. There’s an obsessed Inspector who’s a monster hunter who thinks I’m a succubus. Tons of murders and Rich is in it too, an injured former dancer, rescues me and it turns out he’s a fish monster.”
Where you expected laughter a glimmer of something flashed in his eyes close to both intrigue and adoration and Ian replied, “Wow,”
Sean, “I love fantasy films, and you mix murder mysteries and I am in heaven.”
Ian, “My Dear, that sounds fantastic.”
Sean, “All the better she’s added us to the lists for the London premier.”
Ian’s smile grew, “I shall dust off my best suit for it. I cannot wait. I can never resist a good fantasy. Even that film where the children find fairies in their garden can’t resist watching it every time it plays.”
Sean said as you thanked the driver again who closed the trunk readying to head off again nodding his head to you in return, “No worries, we won’t spoil it for the others.” Flashing you a wink on his way to his cottage.
Up to yours your father unlocked for you both Ian joined you as you asked, “How big is the press?”
At your worry he said, “Just as it should be, though for an international film it has quite the reach, both the UK and States are talking about it and even Liv on her vacation in France heard about it there. Is it in English?”
“Mostly, yes, but I have a bit in Russian and Richard speaks some French with a French accent. I believe there is an Italian opera singer who’s a mermaid. They said it will have subtitles for those parts depending on the country it is shown in.”
“Do not worry about the press, you have performed admirably to promote this film without even going on a talk show building a hype that others are whispering about it far beyond what they had planned no doubt. Not to mention the fact you missed one big budget premier to finish filming it.”
“Still feel terrible about that. I thought my part would be smaller and they wouldn’t need me. I was his fourth love interest for heaven’s sake, his films it’s always a blip and you’re gone. Only filmed a week.”
“Very well done for a week alone. I could not have told that it was on such a small schedule by the look of it. Any more stops planned?”
“There’s two more films premiering in December. Then I do have some press lined up through Europe in January, producers lined everything up for me.”
Ian sat down on the bed beside you saying through a pat of his hand on your thigh, “This is your first time leading a cast in a big budget film. You will adjust to it.”
“Not a very big budget film compared to this, and it’s a lot like Sleeping Beauty,” His eyes looked over your face, “Aurora has arguably the least time of all the Disney Princesses in a film centered around her.”
“It still counts. The new year is not far off, just let it brew up some more and see how it settles. For now however, Peter called and he is on his way, now if you were guessing on who is up to something it would be him.” Making you smirk again standing as he did to help your dad order something to eat from the nearby takeout places.
Familiar confusion on which cottage to go to was broken by the trio of delivery guys who split up taking what was ordered to those waiting outside their cabins with cash in hand. While unloading your bag of trays Peter arrived finally at the door he knocked on once it opened and you replied, “Dining room.” When he came into view you smirked seeing the director now almost half of what he used to weigh, “Every time I see you a chunk of you is gone. Keep it up and you’ll be invisible.”
He chuckled moving closer with arms extended to hug you tightly, “I missed you Gimli, and, I have wonderful news.” His eyes shifted to the newspaper on the table and he said pulling a binder from the bag resting at his hip, “I see you have heard part of the news.”
“Yes, King Kong, well done. I know you’ve been wanting it for a long while now.”
“Yes, now, this is a bit of a scuffle, however, I would love for you to be our double for Ann Darrow.”
“Really?” You asked with a grin turning to fetch the juice from the fridge you bought on the way here while your father brought glasses out for you both and a spare for Peter. “Is it too physical for Naomi?”
Peter let out a sigh drawing your eye from the glass you were pouring, “Partly, though the main reason is, there’s going to be wire work and we need to flail her about while Kong juggles her from hand to hand in a Trex fight.”
Joe, “Whoa.”
Peter chuckled, “Yes, there will be dinosaurs in this and a good chunk of the time on Skull Island Ann will be very physical, running, sliding down hills, being thrown about in fields and in green screen studios. I need someone with endurance.”
Smirking at him you replied, “More like you need a rag doll.”
Peter chuckled out, “In not so graceful terms, yes. I need someone who can have the muscle control to be flailed about but not be violently whipping themselves around to hurt themselves and those they work with. Which is why I would also like to ask you Joe if you would join as well. In the wire work when she is flailed you would be a great height to hold the harness she is dangling from to act as the hand holding her while we have another double from these films also who will catch her when you toss her back and forth. Andy will be performing in a cg suit playing Kong camera wise but you have the height needed to give her someone big to work against in her bits when she’s alone with Kong instead of just another tennis ball on a stick.”
Joe nodded feeling more secure on your safety with that plan on using him and another as your bases, “Sounds good. My schedule is open.”
Peter looked to you inches from begging and you grinned saying, “You really think I would turn down King Kong? Come on.”
Making him laugh and open the binder saying as he flipped through it. “Now, we’ve been compiling information on New York from the Depression Era, cars, clothes, dialog coaches and of course information on films and live shows what to expect from that and I think we have a good idea where to start. We were hoping to have your ideas on things, especially the outfits for Ann. Not to mention, Vaudeville shows for Ann.”
.
Through the following week the use of your time in New York and the feel for it and studies on the history of the city for several projects had you the perfect one to help. One mock up in particular in a sketch board had you saying, “You’re missing two buildings.”
The artist said, “No, the maps have that marked as a garden.”
“Well now, but there was a fire in ‘37 that ruined them. Had to tear them down, and it wasn’t till WWII was over that they built this garden.” From your notepad you passed them a sketch you had made the night before with a note of the book you knew to have a photograph of the buildings that was tacked up and later that day the images were confirmed and the sketch for that one was replaced with the proper buildings.
From fabrics, shoes, hair and makeup every detail was scrutinized along with possible choreography for the Vaudeville and live musical shows the film could hint to. Down to the final feather with just the detail scrutiny you combed through everything supplied to you the next two months had his producers more confident with what mock ups and changes he had brought to confirm that they were right in giving him room to film and produce it all in New Zealand.
There wasn’t much to your days on set. Blips in the background once again granting you ample time to delve more into the history of the Depression era to add even more details. David was there to play Faramir leaving to recover Osgiliath with you in the crowds. Days later you were in a forest as an Elf atop Misty to escort Arwen off to the Grey Havens.
Days of combing through their collected footage for the small musical shows were fully delved into with sketches and possible choreography drafted out by you and one of the movement coaches on the trilogy until the actual choreographer would be arriving the following year to work with the cast and extras. Plays from the era were gathered as well and compiled with the best to send off to the lead male interest for his role as a playwright. All the while Sean Austin between his own scenes directed a short film entitled The Long and Short of It. And the final bit you hid in the back of was flashbacks containing Boromir, Faramir and Denethor, including the day Denethor ordered his son to Rivendell.
Dedicated didn’t come close and as the Weta crew tasked to begin on the Kong wardrobe, props and models they absolutely cherished having your help in all of this. Each fully realizing how you had just bled out all this knowledge you had from the era, including tidbits you had learned from Mrs Henderson while you lived down the hall from one another. All the flaws and beauty of the time conquering such terrible times just exuded from the sketches and printouts you gave as references easing their path into setting the stage.
When it came to the boat however you were lost and let your father take control as he’d been on ships like the one from the film and knew docks and that aspect better than you. Down to comments or lines on navigation or the weather how it works around the center of an ocean. The island however was still a huge mystery and while you built the world Andy continued to build up his own investigation into apes and their whole world including having planned a trip to observe actual gorillas outside of a zoo setting. All the same you soaked up all you could while nursing your wounded pride at not being big enough to have earned a chance to audition for King Kong at all.
“Sorry,” Howard’s eyes shifted to you with a smirk from your bashful detraction of your hand. After mornings of working with WETA you found your afternoons here working with him again in scoring and the oh so sad song for Gollum and his back story.
Peter however chuckled from his seat where he was scribbling a few notes on things to tweak in the footage playing to the demo score for this scene you were tweaking, both of which Howard rolled back. “You know you have free reign for tips here, Dear.”
In a huff you said, “Sorry, just feel like no time has skipped since the sound board at Texas.”
Peter asked, “Soundboard? You worked on scoring in Texas?”
“Not just on it I was Howard for them when they drove off the other guy.”
Peter, “What? They made you score the film?” Almost sounding ready to pummel the director and management in charge of adding to your weight of the first starring role you had fully explaining why you were so relieved to be back here from those sets.
“Well it just started with us needing some music to dance to, as they have us a metronome to rehearse with while the original guy started his war with the director. So it was some violin and piano, no biggie. Nice and simple, then the role had singing as part of it as well as the dancing but the original songs he promised were nothing but titles so that was a Gaelic, French, Russian and English one, some lullabies, some with a bit operatic in it. Then by the time it gets to the end scene he wants a love song for the big finale so Rich helps me out with that on his cello and then they hear the demos and how I just blended the film perfectly, and then I end up scoring it too.”
Howard sighed then asked, “Please tell me it didn’t have to do with us naming you as part of the crew for the past one.”
“Not entirely, no, I studied at Oxford, and Juilliard. Performed on Broadway, won a Tony for that. And then I got the first film as my first role and got to work with you. So I must be an expert.” A moment you sighed and smoothed a hand over your face, “Sometimes I wish my grandparents didn’t brag so much about me.”
The pair chuckled and Peter asked, “I almost hate to ask about Daredevil.”
“Oh,” you said with a sarcastic chuckle, “I loved the Selkie film, I was exhausted beyond belief but at least I had my family and Rich out there to help with the scoring and choir to go with the orchestra. No, no, Daredevil, is no longer Daredevil,” that had their brows arching up in confusion, “It’s now Daredevil and Elektra, two films dwindling my role in the first to nothing. So instead of letting me keep my nap time the Director decides I can play a stewardess too! So I got that my cafe blip, a second of a glance in a party scene and I was wrapped. Got to meet Colin Farrell but other than that, Daredevil was a dud and I have never met anyone like that Director before. Almost tore my leg muscle by his telling the wire guy and not me he was changing the moves while I was mid freaking air! Another guy had his collar bone fractured! You don’t do that to stunt people to ‘make it cooler’ by adding a wall slam mid fight!”
Peter, “I’m so glad you weren’t hurt.”
“I’m glad it’s over. And I highly doubt I will work with marvel again if he’s at the helm. If ever. But it was fine, but hectic, but fine. Glad to be back here to see what you’ve been hiding behind your lenses.”
Peter smirked and Howard asked, “If I can ask, how do you think you did? Scoring?”
Softly you sighed, “Well, if they don’t touch anything I did past a few trimming of edges, and I do mean edges, there was this bird that just kept dangling into the set scenes on side shots. Cuz they just had some scenery shots out in Russia and Switzerland, and then we did the rest on sets in Texas, so it should be easy to finish it off. If they don’t touch anything else then it should be pristine. I think it’s amazing, it’s not a multi million dollar budget thing, but I think I did good. Film is on my shoulders if it isn’t seems like, so fingers crossed my family and Rich weren’t lying at how they loved it. But the producers are getting a glimpse and I should hear back from them soon before they finish off prepping to green light the theater tours and release.”
Howard, “I am certain it will be wonderful, you have a great ear and natural sense for this. Are they at least paying you for it?”
You nodded, “400 grand after renegotiations of my contract. Grandparents lawyers talked them up to that much somehow.”
Peter, “You are more than worth it.”
Unable to help it a grin eased across your lips and you said, “I’m gonna have 400 grand. I could buy a house!”
The guys chuckled at your excited giggle and glance back to the screen and Howard said, “Ah, yes, we are muffling the majesty of Gollum muttering.” Easing a knob a bit to the left to lower the music just a tad to not clash with Andy’s raspy voice in a whisper battle.
.
September into October was the layout for the trip to New Zealand and with a few calls of plans laid in stone you received the all clear from the upper guys on your Selkie film that they green lit it and were planning theaters now for the January release date hoping to hit the market when there would be a lull for fantasy and thriller films in the packed year with ample to entertain the public hastening things along. About a Boy answered your role with a check and as Enough had left theaters and gone to disk and vhs you got that money too. With a promise of three more film checks to come not just helping to pay off the rest of next years rent and grant you more savings to dip into for travels and possible roles and events that might pop up in your ever changing life.
Home again to your chilly apartment you went, while your Dad went south to get some more months on the ranch before the flight to England for the Holidays again. First he had tried to wiggle out to give you time alone but Richard had already called him and tried to plan a surprise for you in means of an exploration trip of a new spot from his childhood he’d yet to show off to you he knew you both would love to see this time of year booked solid the year prior. Catching up with some old friends from school you kept yourself busy with a movie trip for two films you’d yet to see before heading to some museums and the remodeled aquarium simply falling back into an easy pattern to your days on your own. An odd thing to have missed, just these solitary lazy days where you were free to do as you willed yourself to before heading home to get some sleep. Found rabbit ears had helped you to get a few static to clear channels to browse through after you had finished sorting through all your backed up junk mail, as anything important was sent ahead by your landlord to where you were staying through the year.
Lee however in his usual fashion swooped back in post trip to Canada to go and spoil your peaceful solitude flying back to share his trip with an irritated plop onto the bed after you had let him inside. Apparently just a day before the table reads he joined the rest of the cast groaning at the loss of the lead female in the show only meaning auditions would have to be held again while the others hey had lined up as back ups were already booked on other gigs. Puppy dog eyes ensued and what you thought might be a longer vacation for yourself was being threatened by his hazel eyed self close to pouting and begging if he had to so this role could not be lost and his best friend could work with him on it possibly rooming together as well.
Though thankfully for you jet lag kicked in post take out stop and went to his apartment downstairs to get some well needed sleep with a promise to be back up in the morning for the flight out to California for the premier of The Ring. Excited to share his own news Richard took up most of your night spilling all on how he had prepped for his latest role before regrettably apologizing for keeping you up so late at his own yawn warning him of the time. Giggled off the remorse faded and with a few moments of a grin he readied for bed as you laid out and tried to get some sleep before the flight with a promise to call you after you had seen the film to spill on how it all went.
.
“Where the hell,” watching the luggage drop onto the turning rack you muttered not seeing your bag after Lee had hurried around the conveyer to grab his own he had missed thanks to a group of Hockey players diving between you. Shaking that off you got back to scouring for your bag only to turn your head seeing Lee with your bag and his in his hands, “Hey.”
Chuckling your way once he’d blown his hair away from his eyes he said, “It was tucked under mine.”
“Aww, well it gets lonely I guess.” Making him chuckle and tilt his head as you shouldered your bag.
“Let’s see if we can find a cab.”
A few steps later you said, “Thanks, for coming with me.”
“Hey, I promised I would.”
“Just, I know you’ve been trying to research for your new show.”
That had his grin split out and he said, “Speaking of which, I hear they are having to look for a new female lead.”
“Lee,”
“Oh come on you would be perfect, and we get to act together. You get to be my sister who talks to inanimate objects making me reconsider everything I stand for.”
“Seriously, first the Selkie then that, I might get a reputation.”
“For having an incredible imagination, yes.” His glance out to the line of taxi’s had his head swiveling until you heard your name being called.
“Miss Pear! Oh, over here!” A grin spread across your lips seeing the familiar taxi driver you’d gotten the last time you had come to town to visit Lee. His hand reached out to swat the hand away of another driver trying to hold up a sign for his own cab, “Stop it, I know her, you leech.”
Lee glanced at you and you said, “I’ve ridden with him before.” Crossing the walkway you approached him saying, “Morning Aarush.”
His smile split wider, “You remembered my name!”
“How could I forget? You were so kind to me.”
Chuckling to himself he led you to the back to open his trunk, muttering, “A celebrity knows my name.” You smirked and he hurried to close the trunk and hurry to his seat to take you to your hotel. A signature from you and Lee on the back of the Polaroid you pulled from your bag hid him just about glowing taking your tip and hurrying off promising to call his family about the celebrity couple he had picked up from the airport.
Exhaling sharply your held grin deflated and you rubbed your cheek making Lee chuckle and hum out, “I think you made his year.”
“Oh come on Casanova, let’s get to our room so I can eat something before we get shuttled around again.”
Inside the doors of the not so luxurious but oh so expensive hotel you had been booked into by the production team he answered on the way to the desk, “Do you have press for this?”
“No, there’s another interview at the after party for another magazine but other than that I’m not huge in this. Besides the other teens are bigger names than I am. They have been doing all the rounds on shows and such.”
Once at the front desk the man eyed Lee and then you smiling as he recognized your face clearly from the portfolio of actors coming to stay here for the premier. “Miss Pear, we were not certain when to expect you. There are storms blocking travel from a couple of actors flying from England so a number have been delayed.”
“Well it’s all clear from New York.”
“Wonderful,” he said with a grin and assembled your card keys and said, “All the information for room service and the tv is all up in your room, simply take the elevator on the left up to the fifth floor.”
You nodded saying, “Thank you.” Stepping aside with a glance to the front door seeing Naomi Watts entering with her boyfriend Leif, after a huff in lowering her bag onto a cart brought over for her she smiled and waved your way gaining a wave in return as you passed into the hall out of her sight. Lee hit the button and you came to a stop beside him, “I think I want a burger.”
“Burger sounds really good right now.” In a glance down at you he smirked adding, “You remember Tracie Tohms?”
“Ya, she was in a few of my classes.”
“She’s on the show. You’d get to play best friends.”
“You are shameless.”
“Oh come on, at least come out and look at my rental there. Say hi, come see the Niagra set with me.”
One glance at your phone and your math said that Richard was still in his last audition and could be home afterwards to hear about the film and possibly Lee’s offer. Knowing which room you were in the burgers were rushed up to the room and at the table you listened to the cartoon film playing on the tv between muttered bits of conversation on what your part was in this horror flick mainly to let him know how terrified he would be to sleep in the bed beside yours tonight. A notion you giggled away saying you were chilling but not out to throttle him in his sleep, brushed teeth however followed easing the dishes on the cart outside the door joining others from fellow actors wishing to snack before the evening ahead.
Back in your indigo short sleeved velvet dress and black tights you secured your black booties tied with the decorative indigo laces. Just a moment Lee lingered in the doorway admiring your look as you fluffed out your hair in the mirror aimed at the beds once on your feet confirming in the dimmer room that your makeup was suitable under bright and dim lighting. Turned around you grinned looking over the tall date you had smoothing his hand anxiously over his navy tie to go with his charcoal suit. “Look at you trying to steal my thunder,” That had him chuckle and glance to the door at the knock from your assigned aid to get you all into the right cars and you grabbed your clutch.
At your side he went down and with his hand on your back he took notice of Liev and Naomi’s curious murmurs and inspection of your unknown date you had brought with you. To the cars the line of actors went and all in a row each of the cars emptied onto the carpet with more smiles spreading at noticing you had arrived before gazes shifted to Lee who was clearly not how you described your Mate. All the same with his hand still on your back he walked with you trying to not seem so bewildered towards what was going on around him.
Amber was the first one you reached and into a hug she tugged you then pulled back, “You look amazing,” you muttered into her hair.
“Thank you, so do you,” she said when she pulled back again and looked to Lee, smiling again shifting her fingers against the purple skirt of her dress, “And you would be?”
“Lee, Lee Pace.” He answered with a flinch of a grin.
“We went to Julliard together, my best friend.” You said bumping your hip into his making him chuckle at his absurdly skyrocketing nerves.
That widened her smile, “Well welcome, welcome. Let’s introduce you to the guys,” she said reaching out for your hands to show you both to the group of teens from the film greeting you fondly and Lee as well once Amber shared who he was.
Naomi came next in their interviews with Liev at her side, both in black, “There you are, you brought your friend today?” She asked in a brief hug.
“Yes, Rich isn’t the best without a cushion for horror films,”
Making Liev chuckle then lowly mutter, “Aren’t we all in need of a cushion.”
“This is Lee, best friend from Julliard.”
Liev hummed out, “Drama, dance or music?”
Lee, “Drama.”
Naomi, “Ooh, have you been in anything we might have seen?”
Lee nodded, “Yes, I had a part on Law and Order: SVU, and I have a film coming out soon.”
Liev teased, “Let me guess, something with sports?”
Lee chuckled and shook his head causing Liev’s brow to tick up, “Burlesque dancer, actually.”
Naomi’s brows shot up and you bit the inside of your lip not to laugh, “Do they have male burlesque dancers in the States?” Asking her boyfriend who was smirking.
“Only Tranny’s and Drag Queens, brave choice.” He rumbled back to Lee.
Lee, “I was lucky to get it, and Jaqi helped me with the dances and movement a great deal. Owe a lot of it to her really.”
“Could have paid me back with those thigh high boots if your feet weren’t so damn big.” Making Lee chuckle and rub a hand over the back of his neck as Liev chuckled knowing the difficulties of playing a transsexual from one of his prior roles.
Naomi smirked looking to you asking, “Any new roles coming up?”
“Other than playing your stunt double,” making her lips part, “Not really, congrats by the way, Ann Darrow, is a phenomenal character to land.”
“Yes,” she said, “They did confirm I was cast the lead. I met Peter, he’s quite, intense on his vision, right?”
“Um, I wouldn’t say intense, determined, might be closer. Did he say something?”
“Well no, just, I got this amazing audition for this part I have been dying to hear is close to production.”
“Oh?” the guys around you caught your flinch of a betrayed expression you masked at Lee’s poke to your back in her excited glance upwards in search of the right words.
“I can’t say much about it but I know you’ve been here, so many jobs to pick from and you just want to do them all, but with oceans in between it just isn’t possible.”
Lee grinned stopping you from speaking in a squeeze of his arm around your back pulling you into his side, “Exactly, Jaqi’s a bit torn on accepting a show we’d work together on. Bit last minute back up in Canada.”
Naomi, “You should just take it! I know how much you said you loved Canada.” Her name got called and she grinned saying, “See you inside.” And led Liev off who nodded to your forced nod.
Under your breath when you were alone you whispered, “Intense on his vision?”
“Look, I know you love Peter, but hey you have to look at the golden lining.”
“Which would be?”
“She drops out they audition again, right?”
“Great, so I can be skipped over twice.”
“Oh stop,” he said turning you at your name being called for your round at pictures and a few questions on the way inside. Under his arm again he hummed by your ear on the way inside, “You got Gimli, don’t forget that. Peter has been showing you off,”
“That doesn’t-,”
“And, if the role is empty close enough they will be desperate.”
“Thanks,” you replied sarcastically.
“You know what I mean. You will blow the big boys out of the water.”
Inside up closer than you had sat before, your seats were claimed and with his hand fixed in yours Lee settled down only to loop his arms around yours within just the first production logos for his nerves. The difference from your opening scenes just talking with Amber to your asylum scene had his jaw dropping and leaning in when Naomi’s character left you heard him whisper, “Good gracious woman,” behind your lifted hand you giggled making Naomi and Amber a few seats over having caught that giggle too. Tiny jumps and squirms closer to your side echoed of reactions around the audience until your hand covered your mouth to not make a shriek like others when Martin’s character was turned and revealed to have a warped face. On your other side Martin chuckled patting your other hand to comfort himself after his own hard flinch unsettled by the expression as Amber had for hers earlier.
The party after had him nearly fixed by your side choosing not to schmooze and catch up with you until his interview turn came up and he sighed freeing the seat beside you for a short time at least if he had his way. Another sip for you was halted by a flinch at Liev’s voice by your side, “She wants to work with you, you do know that?” That had your eyes on him fully, “Because it’s not avoiding working with you again, she loves working with you. Perhaps even better on less terrifying terms this time around. It truly is a project she’s talked about for decades.”
“Oh no, guessed it’d have to be big, must be, to pass on King Kong.”
That had his grin creeping wider, “Exactly.”
In his glance over to her distant laugh had Lee saying, “It’s Peter’s dream film,” making Liev look at him again, “Waited for decades to get to film it, he doesn’t mean to be intense, just wants it to all fit his dream picture, from what I hear.”
Liev smirked at you saying, “I know you like him, worked with him before, you talked about him like it, it was something like magic what he pulled out of his hat, that’s why she wanted to give his film a chance to get a hint of that magic. You don’t find that often, if at all. She’s taking all the options in stride, and maybe she can line it all up how you are able to. I just didn’t want you to think it might be you she would be avoiding by possibly choosing against it.”
“No I get that, really, it would be great to work with her on something. I don’t know, guess I’ve never been on the other side, seeing someone choose against a project like I have before.”
“No,” he chuckled out, “It is new, and often there’s no explanation afterwards. Been there.” You pointed subtly and his eyes shifted to her again with brows raised and he grinned seeing her grin and nod over making him chuckle out, “Being paged, see you later.”
Lee chuckled to himself when he was out of earshot and murmured to you, “Peter does more than magic and so do you. Stars’ll line up, and I will bet you on that.”
You smirked at him, “And just what do you have on you to bet right now besides your dad’s borrowed tie?”
Deepening his grin, “Ouch, I may be penniless but I have my perks.” That had you giggling and shaking your head to his chuckles only to turn it seeing the first of the interviewers approaching the pair of you he noticed was not like the other actors in a steady loop around the room, more preferably stationary to encourage a more proper interview with a good writing surface. Of course with smiles to welcome each fully once they had tired of the others.
Pt 28
@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​, @aspiringtranslator​, @sweeticedtea ​, @thegreyberet​, @patanghill17​, @jesgisborne​, @curvestrology​, @alishlieb​, @jogregor​, @armitageadoration​, @fizzyxcustard​, @lilith15000​, @marvels-ghost​, @catthefearless​, @imjusthereforthereads​, @c-s-stars​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​, @mariannetora​, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455, @xxbyimm (Hobbit x oc)
X all Rich. A - @abiwim, @deepestfirefun, @thestorybookmistress
X Lee P - @tigereyesf
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thetravelerwrites · 4 years
Text
Monster Match #21: Astomi
The Traveler's Masterlist
For @moonlightreetops: Appearance: Mortal Woman, Pfp is me(straight brown hair, almond hazel eyes), short, scared, with sevral tattoos. Personality: INFJ, Cancer, loud, protective, generous, and I have a snort laugh; definitely a hugger. Therapist friend and proud. I believe I was born cursed to always be polite and kind to everyone. I'm not naive to the trouble I can get into this way but I still cant help myself. Oh! And I cry with every movie and sad commercial. It's annoying.
Hobbies: Hosting D&D, Collecting macabre things, Responsible Social Distancing. Likes: Roadtrips, Pretending I'm more fond of the outdoors than I actually am, Forest Paintings, My Nerd Family, Opposoms. Dislikes: Heights, Bugs, Cooking, Cockroaches (listed separately from bugs because I will panic cry)
Ideal Partner: Someone whose more grounded than I am but at the same time is understanding of my struggles and won't berate me for them. And preferably a monster who wont leer in my windows. (Still have fears of that from my childhood monsters) NSFW & SFW welcomed. My orientation is Pan. So you are free to throw whatever you like at me.
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You’ve been matched with an Astomi!
Originating in Greek and Roman mythology, Astomies, also known as the Gangines, are an ancient legendary race of people who had no need to eat or drink anything at all. They survived by smelling apples and flowers. Megasthenes, a historian and Asian Indian ethnographer, located them at the mouth of the river Ganges. They are described as being hairy and having no mouth. When traveling, they would carry roots, flowers and apples to smell. They could die by smelling a strong, unpleasant smell.
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There was a forest reserve near your home that you frequented to draw and paint. There was a section of it that was strangely green all year round, and you weren’t sure why. None of the trees were evergreens, so the hidden grove should have lost leaves and turned grey like all the greenery around it in the winter, but it never did. You never went into it, and you never saw anyone near it. It was just an oddity no one knew anything about. Lots of people said it was haunted.
The more logical minded people claimed there was a hot spring somewhere in the grove that kept the trees green, but that it was toxic to people, which is why no one ever went there. Though, that didn’t make sense to you. If it was toxic, why were there flowers and birds? The wildlife seemed unaffected by whatever odd supposed toxin existed in the grove.
It had struck your interest more than once, but you never went in. You loved ghost stories, but you weren’t necessarily keen on being in one. And the threat of a toxin was enough to keep you from venturing in.
Though, one day, as you were wandering close, you heard a mournful whimpering, as if someone were in pain. Your worry about ghosts and toxins flew out of your mind as you ran into the grove, looking for whatever was making the sound.
“Hello?” You called. “Is someone there? Are you okay?”
“Please!” They called. “Can you help me?”
“Yes,” You said, pushing past the thick foliage. “Just hold on, I’m coming. Keep talking to me so I can find you! What’s your name? How old are you?”
“Geras!” They said, coughing. “I’m ninety-eight seasons!”
“Seasons?” What was ninety-eight divided by four? “So you’re twenty-four?”
“I suppose,” They said. “But we don’t measure time that way.”
“We?”
“The people of the grove,” They said. “My family and I.”
“Wait,” You said, untangling yourself from a tree. “People live in here? I thought there was a toxin in the air that killed people.”
“What?” They actually laughed, which turned into a hacking cough. “No, of course not.”
“What about the ghosts, then? Are they real?” You asked with a laugh, but you were met with silence. “Geras? Geras! Keep talking.”
“Hurry, please,” Geras said, their voice hoarse. “Please.”
“Almost there,” You said. You finally managed to fight your way through heavy branches and dense underbrush and into what looked like an apple orchard. There were all sorts of apple trees there, and in between a copse of heritage apples was a person laid between the rows, unmoving.
“Geras?” You called. You couldn’t see much of them beyond the long brown hair all over. You could only tell that they were tall and gangly.
Next to them was a bag that stank to high heaven. At first you thought it could be poisons, but you looked inside and found a litany of gross hunting sprays: skunk essence, liquid ass, insect repellents, deer musk, and the like. The odor was so strong that it made you gag.
“Is this the problem?” You asked, breathing through your shirt. They nodded weakly. You weren’t surprised. It made you feel woozy, too. “I’ll get rid of it and come back to check on you, okay?”
“Yes, please,” They gasped.
You fought your way back out of the grove into the dead winter forest, back to the hiking trail to find a trash receptacle. It took nearly thirty minutes to find one, and another twenty to return to the grove. By the time you got back, Geras was not there. Worried, you followed the row up to a house.
The house was… old. Very old. So old that you couldn’t even determine what style or era it was from. It was tall and square, made of rough brick and thatched roof. There seemed to be no windows, but the entire front wall was open and had a rolled up flap that closed that side from the elements.
From the open side, you could see people moving around, hurried, almost frenzied, and you called out to them.
“Hey!” You said. “I’m looking for Geras! He… or she.. or they passed out from some garbage that got thrown in here. Are they okay?”
They all stopped and turned to stare at you from the shadow, and it was then you realized that there was no lights or electricity. There wasn’t even a power pole or lines anywhere nearby.
“Are you the one who helped Geras?” One of them asked. They had a feminine sounding voice.
“Yes,” You said. “Are they okay?”
“She’s not well,” The speaker said. “I am her mother, Foteini.” The woman came down and out of the shadows, and you took a step backward.
She was covered from head to toe in fur, except for her face, which was hairless, but possessed no mouth. Her eyes and nose were very large, however, and her silvering hair was long behind her.
“What are you?” You asked, your voice a little shaky.
“The people of the grove,” She said, her voice not coming from any sort of mouth, but rather from all around her. It wasn’t like telepathy; you could actually hear a voice in your ears, but it seemed to emanate from all over her. “Do not be frightened. We are gentle people.”
There were three other people there in that stepped out of the darkened interior, a black haired creature like Foteini and two much smaller ones the same color as the mother, likely children. They clung to the legs of the taller, black furred creature, seemingly frightened of you.
“Will Geras be okay?” You asked haltingly.
“I don’t know,” The mother said. “She inhaled much of the fumes from those poisons.”
“Is there something I can do to help?” You asked.
“You’ve already done her a great service,” Foteini said. “We would not have been able to help her, if we had found her, and if she had laid there longer, she’d likely have died.”
“Why?” You asked. “That stuff stank, sure, but it wasn’t technically poisonous. Not inhaling it, anyway.”
“We live on the aromas of nature,” Foteini explained. “Flowers, trees, fruit. Those sustain us. Pungent, unpleasant smells, like that poison you disposed of, are toxic and potentially fatal to us.”
“Oh,” You said, daunted. “Is there something that could help speed her recovery?”
Foteini thought. “Roses. They are among the most fragrant things that exist in nature, but we haven’t been able to grow them here in many years. Could you find some?”
“Yeah. Yeah! I… I’ll be back!” You said, and dashed back out of the grove before they could stop you.
You got out of the forest, dropped off your painting stuff at home, and went to a plant nursery.
“Do you have any rose plants?” You asked the clerk.
“Well, yes,” The clerk said. “But it’s too late in the year to plant them. If you want to grow from seeds, though, you can plant those now. I can sell you some seeds and give you a guide.”
That’s too long, you thought to yourself. Geras needed the roses now. “You know, I’ll take it, but I’m in a hurry.”
“Uh… alright.”
The clerk packed up the seeds of several types of roses and a guide for each, and as soon as you had them, you sprinted to a flower shop. You purchased a large bouquet of the finest, freshest, most aromatic red roses, and while it took a chunk out of your bank account, you didn’t want to run the risk of buying some that were less than perfect in fear that they wouldn’t work.
It was nearing sundown when you returned to the grove, and Foteini seemed surprised to see you.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d return,” She said. “Humans tend to stay away from this place.”
“I brought the roses,” You said, gasping for breath. “And some seeds to plant.”
“This is… most generous of you,” Foteini said. “Please, come inside. Night is approaching and you don’t want to be in the forest after dark. There are far less benign creatures out there than us.”
You shivered and followed her inside.
Geras was lying on a pallet in a far room, her breathing labored and raspy. Foteini began to lay out the flowers around Geras’s head, arranging the flowers around Geras’s head in a circle.
“Breathe deep,” Foteini said soothingly, rubbing Geras’s chest like a mother would for a sick child.
Geras made an effort to take a deep breath, but it sounded pained. However, after two or three tries, her breathing eased and eventually, after about an hour of tense waiting, she was able to breath without struggle. Foteini relaxed, and so did you.
“You should sleep here tonight,” Foteini said. “And eat as many apples as you want. We owe you a great debt.”
“I’m just glad I could help,” You said.
You fell asleep almost immediately after eating, having been exhausted by all the running. When you awoke, there was a new bushel of apples sitting next to you, and next to that was Geras, watching you sleep.
“Oh,” You said, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m much better now,” She said, smiling with her large green eyes. “Thank you for everything.”
“Of course,” You said with a self-conscious laugh. “You gave me a scare.”
“I’m sorry,” She said. “I know humans aren’t used to us.”
“No, I mean almost dying like that,” You corrected her. “I mean, I was a little startled, I’ll admit, but you guys seem nice.”
“You’re nice, too,” She said, continuing to smile.
“Thanks,” You said, starting to blush under the weight of her stare. “I, uh… I should get back, I have to go to work later today.”
“Of course,” Geras said, standing in a fluid movement and holding out a hand to help you to your feet. “Though… I hope… you’ll come back to visit?” She held out one of the roses for you to take.
You smiled at her, your hands still clasped. “I would like that very much.”
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My Masterlist
The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist
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rankdisasster · 4 years
Text
thick as thieves
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“I am going to give you angst because... let’s face it, we love it. two and five.” requested by @fortheloveofhargrove​
#2: “Close the door.”
#5: “Why are you helping me?” from dialogue prompts
warning(s): swearing
a/n: takes place in California, starting as Billy being a dickish 15 y/o. it goes on from there, you’ll know when there’s a little time skip. enjoy:)
“Jesus, what’s it gonna take to get you to stop squirming?”
“You are about to stick a needle in my ear, I think I’m allowed to be a little nervous. Won’tchu just cut me some slack, alright?” Billy snaps back at you, no doubt getting wound up because of the risk he’s taking doing this.
Billy has his arms tightly grasped around a throw pillow he stole from the couch, bracing himself for the upcoming pain of doom. His eyes have been squeezed shut as you take the melting ice cube between your fingers and delicately hold it up behind his earlobe. You’ve yet to even puncture him with the needle and he’s already sweating buckets. The teenage boy had asked you to hurry up and get it over with three times already, not even helping you out the slightest bit by staying still while bossing you around either. Typically, your role being the ‘smart one’ in your long lasting friendship would assign you the task of talking him out of wanting to do a foolish thing like this. On one hand, he had plenty of safer alternatives as opposed to going to you, an amateur, for getting the accessory punched in to his ear.
This ever changing dynamic of your platonic relationship had been set aside by the boy since you two started high school this year. He stopped taking the bus with you to and from school since his temperamental father started giving him lessons on how to drive. Another petty example of pretending he didn’t even know you was saying nothing when he passed by you in the halls, or stopped ringing you late at night when he needed help studying or just to talk. Other small things had added up to you barely hearing from him unless he wanted something from you; in this case, a free piercing job. It was hard to deny, but you’d refused to confess how your heart jumped at the opportunity of spending an evening with him again just like old times.
Unsurprisingly, the teenage boy didn’t bother making small talk about his day or giving you virtually any clue about the trouble he had been up to during these recent weeks ghosting you. Of course Billy didn’t care much for what you had to say either, he only wanted one thing and one thing only.
“Stop being a brat for five seconds, then I’ll cut you some slack,” you bite back. He’d rolled his eyes then gasped harshly at the sight of you picking up the freshly cleaned and heated needle from the coffee table. “Want me to count to three or surprise you?”
“Uh, surprise me.”
“Kay. What is this even for, anyway? Last I checked this one’s the gay ear,” you snort, watching him freeze up and widen his anxious blue eyes.
“Wait, WHAT!” he howled in a panic, giving you the perfect opportunity to stick the sharp end right through the lobe, watching him cringe and practically catch flies with his wide open mouth. “Ow, fuck!”
“You told me you wanted it to be a surprise,” you smugly point out, wiping your hands on a napkin after finishing the favor. He sends you a glare at your trickery before getting up and going to the mirror that hangs in your living room.
“Hell yeah. Not too shabby, Y/N. Thanks,” he smirks at his reflection, scoping out the brand new element to his ‘cool guy’ image. Not taking his eyes off his appearance, the boy continues fiddling with his hair and turning his head at different angles to inspect the fresh hole in his lobe. You’ve sat back and crossed your arms, rolling your eyes so far back at his disgusting vanity. He might as well be humping and kissing the mirror right in your own damn house. After getting noticed by all of the popular pretty girls and patted on the back by all the designated cool guys, he thinks his dick grew over ten feet in size or something, and you’ve been downgraded on his list of priorities.
Being the best of buds since elementary school, Billy’s had your back along every step of the way growing up. You’d write all the answers to tests on his forearm for him, he’d keep all the bullies away from you. Each of you would take turns sharing lunch every week. His favorite thing to gobble up at any given chance was your squeezable applesauce, and your favorite snack coming from his lunchbox was always string cheese. There was barely ever a moment you’d be seen without each other.
Middle school went by in a flash of painful and awkward moments, but despite all the friends he made in Little League Baseball, he for some reason still stuck around with you. Maybe you couldn’t do the same sleepovers like you used to as pre-pubescent children, but he’d still give you your favorite string cheese and hugged you tight whenever you wore a frown.
Now, both in your freshman year of high school, things weren’t as easily labeled as black or white. There were cliques and expectations that Billy abided by, and you just didn’t fit in with any of that. Instead of letting you down easy, it was more of a hurtful shock the day he decided to ditch you at lunch for the girls that had been eyeballing him during gym class. Now, not only did he try his best to bury your friendship somewhere deep and never touch it again, you’d went great lengths to avoid any confrontation with him or his posse.
That all just went to shit for the first time today, when he approached you about said earring. You didn’t know how to say no, and you weren’t sure you could if you tried.
“Okay, Kiefer Sutherland, you got what you asked. Why the hell would you want some douchey hanging earring anyway? That a new trend or somethin’ I don’t know about?” you ask, not hiding your judgement the slightest bit. He throws his denim jacket over his bare shoulder exposed from the muscle tee he’d been wearing, then gives you a cheeky grin before answering.
“Sammy Anderson from bio said it’d look good on me. You know her, brunette with the legs. She thinks it’s pretty gnarly,” he nods his head back and forth, sucking his bottom lip with his teeth before not long after snapping out of whatever daze he had been in.
“Since when did you even give a shit what people thought looked good on you?”
“Since they started actually telling me,” he shrugs, not caring how pathetic it may be that he went through all this trouble just for one off-hand comment some girl from class made. You hide your scoff with a forced laugh, walking passed him and bumping shoulders on your way to the kitchen. Billy furrows his brows at your attitude and the diss, following you to where you’ve been preparing a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios for yourself.
“‘S the matter with you, huh? I thought you wanted to hang out again,” he asks, confused by the conflicting mixed signals you’d been sending. You chomp on your Cheerios and take your time swallowing the satisfying bite before looking up at him.
“I never said that.”
“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but who called whose house every night then turned into a jealous bummer as soon as one of them started making better friends?” he asks rhetorically, petting his chin and pretending like it’s some thought provoking question. You can’t believe the audacity he had calling you a jealous bummer when he left you for good without batting an eye at the loss of friendship. Your chair screeched as it dragged on the floor when you stood up out of it, keeping your bowl in your arms before showing him the door. You nod your head towards the exit wordlessly as Billy stubbornly stays put, not through with his point yet.
“Well, Kiefer, this bummer is asking you to leave. I got you your stupid fucking earring like I promised, and let’s hope you know how to keep it from getting infected, otherwise I’m done listening to you and your new inflated ego.” you finished, ending your speech with a slurp of the milk from your cereal bowl, waiting for him to take himself out. Billy calls it a day, shaking his head and saying more pussy accusations under his breath before making it to the door, stopping to invade your space.
“This better not be in the fuckin’ gay ear, or you’ll be hearing from me again, just so you know—“
And with that, you slammed the door in his face and locked it before sauntering back to the kitchen, carefree as you pour yourself another bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.
Your freshman year went by without anything to really mark it as a special year. Maybe you met a few new faces, people a year above your grade that were kind enough to show you around and give you a better outlook on what high school could be. Billy only gained more and more followers, becoming the alpha dog at only fifteen years old with eighteen-year-old’s wanting to have him or be him.
With the new earring you’d pierced for him, Sammy Anderson was always seen pawing at him like an annoying house cat, and he’d put on a show most likely just for your eyes in particular. To make you envy the brunette, Billy would strut around the halls he knew you walked through like a catwalk, hoping you’d see and think he was all that. Sammy, for some reason, couldn’t pass any ninth grade classes although she was a junior, she still shared a few periods with a freshman Billy. She was shameless about riding the fifteen-year-old’s dick, and had been made aware of you being the prime target for where and when they show their public displays of affection.
You really could give a shit about the drama he put you through anymore. Yeah, it really hurt having someone you stood by a good chunk of your life leave, but there was nothing you could do about it. Other than just find your place and where you belong on the food chain of high school, which wasn’t much to brag about. You had your humble few friends that were loyal and been told about your past with Billy Hargrove. They couldn’t believe with your personality and his transformation that you’d ever been affiliated with him in the first place, and honestly you couldn’t believe it either.
Sophomore year was starting now, and it was getting to be the season for those annoying high school dances that every movie or book goes on and on about. Less than thrilled but obligated to attend, the dance was in full swing when you’d arrived in your outfit of choice. Dressing up wasn’t ideal, but you’d made somewhat of an effort trying to be presentable for the expectations that these gatherings hold. After finding your group and huddling close together, you’d excused yourself for a bathroom break and walked down the empty and eerily quiet hall to the restrooms. You had no idea what you were in for when you stepped on someone’s foot that was completely covered by the dark.
“Christ! The fuck is your problem, huh?” the all too familiar voice had shouted in anger before the sound of runny sniffling followed. He pulled the foot you had stepped on further away so that you couldn’t do it again and cursed again under his breath. Of course, it was none other than your long lost bestest friend Billy.
“Jeez, sorry. Not my fault you’re sitting in the fuckin’ darkness,” you defend yourself, still terrified by the disadvantage you have being unable to see a goddamn thing. As if God himself had been listening to your thoughts, a dim light turned on and illuminated parts of the hallway, as well as a disheveled and evidently heartbroken Billy curled up on the floor, holding onto his knees. The tux he wore had been loosened, and his hair looked like he’d ran his fingers through it one too many times out of stress. He looked like a fucked up mess.
Just as you were staring him up and down, a stuttered exhale had fallen from the boy’s lungs as his hands desperately scrubbed at his watery eyes. It didn’t take a degree in psychology or whatever the fuck else to gather what’s going on here.
You approached him cautiously, as gentle as approaching a frightened deer, knowing how deeply sensitive and guarded Billy is at all times. The walls he’d built while playing the role of California’s resident fuckboy. You’d seen him cry only a handful of times, and that was mostly when you were kids and had excuses to cry about everything. Kid cut him in line, or made fun of the design on his lunchbox. Basic things that children often cry at, but you’d remembered the one night you saw him fall apart right in front of you the night his mom had fled without a trace. All the questions Billy and even you had about her whereabouts were still unanswered, but that never got brought up again after the breakdown he’d suffered through while huddled up in your arms. The poor thing was was so confused, not even knowing if his mom had kicked the bucket or just wanted the fuck away from her husband, even if that meant leaving her son.
Point is, it was always a rollercoaster when Billy got emotional, and you just so happened to walk right into him while he was in the middle of one of his fits.
“Oh. It’s you,” the teen grumbled, obviously disappointed at you being the one to catch him having an episode in the dark hallway outside the school’s dance.
“Hey, uh... What’s going on here?”
“I’m a fucking idiot who should know better is what’s going on. That’s exactly what you wanna hear though, isn’t it?” he hisses, dark and twisted as he fails to hide the runny nose and tears spurting down his cheeks. Immedietely forgetting all the shit you both went through freshman year, you bowed down to his level and sat by where he layed dejected and despondent on the ground.
“Not exactly what I wanna hear,” you murmur, looking at him before touching his arm with apprehension. When he didn’t shoo away from your grasp, you thanked God that Billy didn’t snap at you and tell you to piss off. You’d been pleasantly surprised at that moment when instead he leaned further into your touch, covering his face with his palm as he sniffles in misery.
“I see you put a new earring in, pretty kickass. Bet the ladies love it,” you admire the cheesy new gothic pendant that dangles from his ears. Anything to get his mind off of what’s troubling him will count as a win in your book.
“What ladies, you mean Sammy Anderson? She just dumped my ass in there and started dancing with some other white trash asshole. Figures,” he takes a red and white box out of the pocket of his suit and you notice that it’s Marlboro Red cigarettes. You weren’t in the loop of what he’d been up to since starting high school, but smoking seemed to be new. He lights it up and puffs on it like a natural, like he’d been doing that his entire life, and it’s a sad picture for you to see. The snot bleeding from his nostrils hasn’t quit, and you snatch a back up tissue from your bag and hand it over without thinking twice. The broken boy looks from the tissue then back to you a couple times before taking it and blowing his nose. When he dunks it in the trash can and makes it in, you cheer him on and give a lighthearted high five. After the brief moment of silliness is over, Billy looks over to you with bewilderment in his eyes.
“Why are you helping me?”
“People grow apart all the time, Billy. It’s the most natural thing in the world. That doesn’t mean I can’t care for your well being,” you reason, biting your tongue to keep from saying anything more that you may regret in the long run.
“Uh, yeah. Guess you’re right. I care about your like... well being and stuff too,” he mumbles, taking another drag of nicotine before offering you a hit.
You shake your head and hold up your hand.
“No thanks. I came here to use the restroom is all,” you move to get up from the floor before Billy is quick to join you.
“Yeah, go ahead. Just one thing real quick, I wanted to say sorry. All the shit I pulled last year wasn’t cool at all. But I’m always here for you too, yeah?” he confirms, gazing into your eyes making you freeze on the spot.
“It’s alright. I’m about to piss myself right now though, so I’m gonna go,” you chuckle, pointing towards the ladies restroom. The boy is quick to laugh with you, urging you to do your business.
“Wait, Y/N,” he calls out, standing at the end of the hall by the entrance to where the dance is still being held.
“Yeah?” you shout back, bladder close to giving out as you stand by to watch Billy fumble from the end of the hall before hushing:
“You look really beautiful tonight. Whoever you’re with is lucky as hell.”
Junior year comes, and you and Billy haven’t properly spoken since the dance when you’d caught him crying in the dark and accidently stepped on his foot.
He hadn’t calmed down on his ruthless antics, but they’re not directed towards antagonizing you, so that’s a plus. You had accepted that he just wasn’t apart of the path you’d been on and you weren’t apart of his. How the circle of life goes, or whatever.
Billy had found himself yet another new beau, Ashley something, her last name had escaped your mind. He’d still been just as obnoxious with his frequent PDA tendencies at school and elsewhere. You had shared a class with her last year, so you know at least this time she’s his age, but you don’t know anything deeper than that. He wouldn’t ignore you when you passed by each other in the halls, giving you a pointed look and a little wave, which you returned every time. Unbeknownst to you, his group that ruled the whole school always wondered how the hell he even knew you and why he’d never forgot to acknowledge you if he saw you anywhere. The blomde would just tell them to keep their fucking noses from his business and never mess with you or any of your friends.
On this night, for the first time in three years, Billy had invited you to come over, insisting actually. Over the phone he made it clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He chewed on his fingernails while anxiously chainsmoking, his leg tapping up and down so fast it might as well fall off. He’d been waiting for your arrival the last fifteen minutes, counting the minutes and even the seconds until you finally show up. It was a hasty knock on his bedroom door that made the boy throw himself out of the chair he’d been seated in and take a deep breath. Temporarily setting his smoke down on the window sill, he raised his voice when telling you to come in.
You’d opened the door and walked in like you’d never been here before. It was difficult for Billy to see, remembering all the days you used to come in and make yourself at home in his room. All the toy cars and dinosaurs he’d collected had disappeared, now replaced with various colognes and mountains of hair gel, as well as more jewelry strung around every surface. You were astonished seeing a set up of heavy weights in the corner too, but you’d neglected to notice him grow bigger and bulkier as he matured.
“Close the door,” he whispers, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans as your eyes got bigger at the serious tone the boy had used. You softly shut it all the way, unsure about what it is Billy wanted from you this time.
“So uh, you want me to pierce anything else? A nipple maybe?” you joke, trying to ease the unbearable tension that’s making the bedroom seem claustrophobic and stuffy. Billy doesn’t laugh, feeding more into the uneasy feeling stirring in your gut and instead sits on the edge of his bed and pats right next to him, signaling for you to take a seat. You swallow audibly before doing as you were told, crossing your arms and legs on the firm mattress, thinking it’ll somehow soothe how frightened you are of whatever he’s about to tell you.
“You want one?” he offers you another one of his Marlboro’s, this time a blue pack as opposed to the red’s he smoked at the school dance.
“No. I told you I didn’t smoke,” you remind him, which he nods in understanding.
“You don’t mind if I smoke in here though, do you?“
“Fucking A, just tell me what this is all about, Billy! You invite me over for the first time in years and you’re acting real fucking weird, so if you would just... just spit it out already—“
“I’m moving outta California.”
You pause, needing to get a better grip on your rapid beating heart that’s going as fast a drum solo from some rock band tune. Billy stares at you intently, waiting to see what your reaction will be like. When he receives nothing but a gawking expression still smothered on your face, he goes on to give you more details of his departure from California.
“I’m uh, I’m leaving. Overheard my old man talking on the phone, we’ll all be outta here by the end of the month. He wasn’t even planning on telling me until the day of,” Billy explains, his lip trembling up and down at the thought of leaving everything, his home, and especially you behind.
“W-Where?” you choke out, not knowing what the fuck to even say besides spouting the endless questions swarming your mind. Billy looks at you and copies what you did the night of the school dance when he was the one in pain, touching your arm and wrapping it with his palm. He rubs his thumb in circles there for a bit.
“Some shithole town in Indiana,” he answers before going on to the reason why he had invited you here other than just giving you the news. “I um, I wanna ask you to do something,” he stutters, one dramatic tear dropping down a cheek from his right eye as he holds your arm tight as if you’ll flee away if he ever let go.
“Sure, Bill. I’ll do anything,” your hand reaches to cup his cheek to comfort him, learning that touching him when he’s in distress always helps more than it hurts.
“Come with me, please,” he invokes, leaning further into your touch as the bridge he’s spent years building keeping everybody out shatters, leaving him wipe open and terrified of being left alone. Starting all over again his senior year in some dried up small town, without his childhood best friend roaming the same halls as he will. “I’m serious. You’ll... we can do it together. Just like old times, right?” he asks, pulling what looks to be your infamous favorite snack, a cheese stick from his back pocket and handing it over to you, hope in his eyes.
“Are you fucking insane?” you withdrawal from him, not taking the stick of cheese and waiting for the punchline of some sick joke he’s pulling. Billy cannot possibly be serious, his only bribe for you to come with him being some snack he used to give you as a kid. He had the balls to think he could perfectly replace your family and your friends just for his own selfish needs and a stick of cheese.
“No. Right now I’m sure as shit making way more sense that I ever have in the past three goddamn years, Y/N. I fucking love you, and the thought of being away from you is making me fucking sick,” the boy grimaces, wishing he could pull you close to him again but the chance of getting your permission isn’t likely.
“You.... what?”
“I know. But you love me too, I can see that you do.”
“Dude, your shroom dealer is amazing. Wanna hook me up sometime, or—“
“Stop fucking around and be straight with me, okay! There’s no way in hell any of this was friendly from the start, you don’t cheer up your cryin’ ex-best friend on the floor just because you’re some goddamn saint. You did it because that’s love, alright?” he stands up, pointing his finger at you as tears stream freely out of his broken blue eyes.
“This is a joke, right? I gotta be dreaming or something,” you squeeze your eyes shut and try pinching your arm in an attempt to wake up from alternate reality you’re helplessly trapped in. Billy gets down on his knees and grasps both your wrists in his heads, staring at you dead in the eye.
“Sammy Anderson didn’t mean fucking jack to me, okay. Same goes with Ashley, too. You’re it for me. Don’t you understand?”
“No, I don’t. You aren’t supposed to ditch who you love just to chase some tail! You left me, only coming to me if you needed something from me; now you want me to take some big leap of faith for you? After all you’ve done?”
Billy hangs his head in his hands in agony before pacing around the perimeter or his room back and forth. He doesn’t know what else to say, so logic has officially left the building. Now he’s receded to throwing up all his deep secrets hoping it’ll have some affect on you or make you do something, anything.
“Y’know, when I lost my virginity to Sammy in the chick’s bathroom at school... I thought of you the entire time. She didn’t even fuckin’ blink twice after I said your name instead a’ hers, she just kept going—“
You plug your ears, desperate to tune out the boy’s filthy story telling, throwing his own pillow at him to get him to knock it off. He catches it with a stealthy hand, keeping his grip on it as he listens to you whine and moan.
“Aw, c’mon man! we could’ve easily kept discussing this without any of your dirty—“
“Stop it. Stop stalling and give me an answer right here, right now. Tell me if you love me too.”
You scrape your scalp, dreading having this painful conversation, dreading giving him the ugly truth. Once upon a time if he would’ve done this sooner, your answer would’ve been different.
“I... I just can’t keep this up, Billy. I can’t do it anymore. I gave so many parts of myself up for you, but it’s too late now. I won’t throw everything I have here away just so you can use me when I’m convenient, alright? Fucking...” you look up, watching as your childhood best friend crumbles to the floor and hugs the pillow to his chest, eerily similar to the time you pierced his ear for him in the ninth grade. You swiftly sit up off of the bed, going down to his level again, just like the night of the school dance. Getting ready to give him more soothing, encouraging words, something like ‘it’ll be alright’ or a promise of visiting him in the near future, all of that gets ripped away from you when he makes his next move.
Without any warning whatsoever, Billy takes your jaw and smashes his lips to yours, forcefully pressing you further into him. The pillow he’d been clutching had fallen to the ground between the two of you.
This was the last fucking straw, and you’re exhausted to shit now.
You shove him off of you with a hundred percent of your power, wiping his saliva from your mouth with disgust and backing up to the other end of the bedroom, as far away as possible from the weeping boy.
“Stay the fuck off me. And have fun in Indiana, I’m sure you’ll be missed by all your fans at school.”
Billy is equally as antsy as he is pissed off when the Hargrove family makes their way to the airport, the boy staring out the window with a permanent worried look in his eye at how he left things with Y/N.
As he boards the plane, giving his younger step sibling Maxine a death glare for the window seat, he holds his gaze out the little window at the clouds surrounding the wing of the plane. When they land in Hawkins, Indiana, he’s still filled to the brim with regret at everything he’d done. He thinks of all the what if’s, like what if he hadn’t cared so much about his reputation, what if he’d kissed you sooner, what if, what if, what fucking if. The list goes on.
“People grow apart all the time, Billy. It’s the most natural thing in the world. That doesn’t mean I can’t care for your well being.”
He’ll hate himself for along time after using you, ignoring you, and ultimately abandoning you at the beginning of the hell that is high school. But that’s just the way it goes for guys like Billy. It could’ve gone the other way, too, such as following him to Indiana and loving him back after all. But that version’s just a figment of his imagination.
and then they all lived happily ever after and stuff. what I was trying to pull off was showing a meaningful friendship that started dying out and Billy’s transformation to douchebag was the perfect pitch for it. then for the tables to turn on who wants to be with who in the end was also what I wanted. I’m still working on more prompts and requests and stuff as usual ! thank you for everything:)
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dammit-stark · 4 years
Note
One au i can never get enough of is wedding planner au! Someone made a post about this recently as well, it’s just so *chef’s kiss*
i’ve never actually thought of any wedding planner au so this was super fun! I wrote four different versions of this before I settled on baker!steve, but i’m really happy with how it turned out hehe I will probably write more wedding planner aus in the future bc I just had so much fun with this!
DROP YOUR FAV AU (OR ANY PROMPT, WHATEVER) IN MY ASKBOX AND ILL WRITE YOU SOMETHING :)
...
Tony Stark knows how to plan a hell of a wedding. Celebration of a couple’s love and all that, but also open bar. Beautiful lighting. Vaulted ceilings, dream venue. The whole nine yards, he’s the guy who can make it happen. It usually takes two years and a huge chunk of change to pull off, but he can make a bride’s (or groom, dreams are dreams, no judgement) dream wedding come to fruition.
That’s not to say he hasn’t done his fair share of shotgun weddings too, a wide, mustachioed, future father-in-law leaning menacingly over the proceedings as the groom sweats.
As far as shotgun weddings go though, Tony can make it happen, and make it good. He’s got a speed dial list the size of a small wedding party, and he has friendly relationships with all the best local vendors who can put him to the top of the list if he asks really, really nicely.
Except, it seems, for his on-call baker from SHIELD Confections.
“You’re messing with me, Nick. You gotta be,” Tony says into the phone as he paces his office, “Because I know you wouldn’t pull this kinda shit with me.”
Fury doesn’t relent, “I got a lot more problems than your little last minute wedding, Stark. You’re gonna have to find a different baker for this one.”
“Who’s gonna help me out this close to the wedding, Nick, huh? You’re really screwing me here.”
Fury let’s out a long-suffering sigh.
Only Tony ever dares to call him by his first name, and despite what Tony thinks he does not think it’s quote-unquote cute in any way shape or form.
“Look, I can give you a guy’s number. He should be able to pull something together for you. He’s a good guy, new on the scene, name’s Steve Rogers. He’s the kind of guy who will do way more work than he needs to just because he thinks it’s the right thing to do, so don’t fuck him over, Stark, I’m warning you.”
“You’re a savoir, Nick Fury,” Tony coos, and he can practically hear Fury mentally slitting his own throat.
“You owe me one,” Nick grumbles, then gives Tony a number for the baker.
“Kisses!” Tony singsongs into the retriever once he’s got the number written on a post-it. Fury promptly hangs up.
When Steve comes to deliver the cake, Tony’s in the middle of a call, has got two more people on hold, and has a crying bride in the room next door.
He takes one look at this Steve guy, and says, “Yeah, Pep. Sounds great, I’ll uh- I gotta call you back.”
He immediately makes his way across the dining room to the cake table.
“You’re Steve Rogers?” He demands, “You’re the baker?”
The poor guy pivots slowly away from his cake box to face this stranger demanding his attention, “I am. Is there a problem?”
“No, no, no,” Tony’s saying, waving his hands animatedly in the air, “No problem at all. I’m the wedding planner, Tony Stark. Pleasure to meet you. Thanks for doing this, seriously.”
Steve cracks a smile and Tony curses that life really, really isn’t fair, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Tony can’t seem to help but note that Steve’s got flour-hauling arms, bulky and well-worked. But if the detailing on the cake is any indication, he has contrarily nimble fingers. He’s sure Steve notices him looking. Tony slides on his most confident smile, “All fantastic things, I’m sure.”
Steve gets this squinty, apologetic expression that Tony doesn’t ever want to look away from, “Not exactly. In fact, the way Fury was talking about you, I didn’t even think I’d see you.”
Of course Fury told Steve about him. Of course.
“I, uh- yeah, well. You know Fury. He’s a-“
“It’s okay, Tony. I’m glad you came over here. I’m glad I got to meet you.”
Tony opens his mouth to say something along the lines of shit, can we make out right this second?, but he’s rudely interrupted, lips just parted for the sake of words, by his ringing cell phone.
“Fuck,” Tony curses. He glances at the caller ID, “Fuck. I have to take this. Can we- Can I-?”
“Here.” Steve The Baker says, a sweet smile on his lips. He fishes a ballpoint pen out of one of his pockets, reaches over and writes a phone number on the back of Tony’s hand. It’s a total cliche, but Tony’s totally into it, “Call me.”
Tony’s phone rings again, but he’s smiling even as he backs away from the table, “You better know that I absolutely will be calling you, Mr Rogers. Oh, and make sure that cake looks impeccable. You can send the invoice to my office.”
And with that, Tony turned and took off at a jog. He had an unhappy bride to deal with.
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fmdjaewonarchive · 4 years
Text
► reply.
date(s): 6 september - 23 september 2020 mentions of: charm (very brief but i thought it was fun to mention), @fmdsamsoo​ word count: +/- 1850 (minus lyrics) warnings: jaewon being gay tw details: fmdos2, the creative process behind reply, basically jaewon is really fucking gay, that’s the solo. i could’ve split this up into two solo’s probably but i like to have the whole creative process in one place plus i need to write about his performance still anyway. 
a part of jaewon still had a hard time puzzling together that somehow, someway he had actually managed to secure the first place last round. it was nice of course, alarm was an incredibly personal song to him and he didn’t know how his already brittle self-esteem would’ve taken the blow had he ended up in the bottom ranks but as nice as it was, it was still unexpected.
there was, however, no time to perfectly puzzle out how exactly he felt about the result, the bliss short-lived as he found himself back in the studio’s of dimensions entertainment mere days after, ready to do the whole circus all over again only this time with a much, much harder mission. colors were a vague concept to write a song around after all and a part of jaewon felt back in high school all over again, the familiar anxiety of receiving a very unspecific task that somehow had to fulfill the criteria set that were completely unknown to him. he didn’t like that gnawing in the back of his mind, having to second guess if maybe, he was interpreting this in a way that wasn’t expected of him.
if anything, jaewon felt lucky that he didn’t have to tackle the task alone (even if it still felt a bit like cheating) finding himself back in the studio with the same producer from before. jaewon kind of felt for the man, seemingly assigned to deal with him for however long his run on the show was gonna be.
“look who we have there, if it isn’t our big winner.” the producer greeted him enthusiastically and jaewon received the compliment with a hint of a blush and a quick bow of his head. “ah, thank you, but please the credit is just as much yours as it’s mine hyung, i couldn’t have pulled it off without your help.”
the man just shook his head. “always with the humility, enjoy a nice thing for once buddy, you’ve earned it.” he turned to the computer in front of him. “unfortunately, i don’t think we have much more time for pleasantries and celebrations, we’re short on time as always so what are you looking for?”
and that was the million dollar question wasn’t it. what was jaewon looking for? the color white, apparently. and someone in direct contrast with his last song. those two together meant something far out of his comfort zone. but truly, that wasn’t as telling as one would assume it was. truth be told, jaewon’s comfort zone was very small (both in terms of music and well… in general). most things were outside of his comfort zone.
“okay… so… remember what we did last time?” jaewon asked, more rethorical than anything yet still waiting for the producer to confirm with a nod. “forget all of that, we’re completely abandoning that. i need a complete 180.”
the look the producer shot him was one of mild despair and mentally, jaewon noted that after all of this was over, he owed the man much, much more than just a meal to thank him for all his efforts.
“i need something that doesn’t sound like anything i’ve ever done before. not by myself, not with my collaborations, not with unity, not even with champion. something people would never associate with me.” he elaborated further and the more he spoke, the more the other man seemed to form an idea.
“okay, that i can do. but tell me jaewon, do you think you can wave the brooding angsty vibe goodbye for one song?” it would’ve felt like a dig if well… the question wasn’t so valid. jaewon’s whole image was created around being dark and mysterious with a bit of a sexier push from dimensions. he could show up with a song completely different from that, but could he pull it off?
“yeah, yeah i can.”
when jaewon left the studio, it was with an instrumental filled with light-hearted, bouncing piano chords woven together with a deeper drum sound. he could work with this, he could make this work.
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with kick it promotions wrapped up and little schedules outside of that, jaewon has plenty of time to withdraw himself in either one of the many studios of dimensions entertainment or the one back in his and soo’s apartment (the perks of both being involved in making music, a home studio was a must).
unlike for alarm, where jaewon had just forced himself to stare at an empty document until some semblance of an idea, this time the process was more guided. there was a lot of mood setting, browsing visuals of… white things. because that was the theme had to run with after all right, whatever that was supposed to mean. but also going through music, listening to songs much softer than what he was used to.
first just unity’s music, songs on their softer side. like touch for example, or 0 mile, but also a large chunk of their unity zone album (pandora’s box, daydream, love me now). none of them had the same playful edge the instrumental had, all on the softer side rather than the cute side but it was a step in the right direction. especially for jaewon who had always gravitated to the grittier, more experimental, noise-heavier sound of unity’s music. it was good to remind himself he’d done lighter before, that he could again.
it wasn’t just unity’s music though. jaewon doubted he’d ever listen to as much charm music as he did for writing this song.
so the first few studio days were spent spitting through reference material, both audio and visual, the most jaewon actually wrote a list of vague ideas, feelings, directions he could take the song in without, you know, actually writing lyrics.
the actual concept for reply came, funnily enough, completely by accident.
it’d been the fourth consecutive day jaewon had locked himself away in a recording studio in the company’s headquarters. it hadn’t been the plan to be away from home so much but he was on the verge of a breakthrough, he could feel it, all he did was try a little harder.
and still most of the day passed without much progress.
fine then, a small break was probably in place with how it had started bleeding into the evening already and jaewon retrieved his phone from wherever he had discarded it, not having looked at it for hours as he had been too busy with the creative process (even if, truly, he hadn’t achieved much).
unlocking his phone, he was immediately met with a row of text notifications, all from samsoo.
[ 09:16 incomming message : my universe ] i saw you already left, what time will you be home? [ 14:48 incomming message : my universe ] i’m going to get groceries, is there anything you need? [ 16:04 incomming message : my universe ] don’t overwork yourself jagiya [ 18:35 incomming message : my universe ] i’m assuming you won’t be home for dinner, there are leftovers in the fridge [ 19:22 incomming message : my universe ] just let me know what time you get home yeah? [ 19:59 incomming message : my universe ] jagiya?
of course, jaewon felt bad for leaving his boyfriend unanswered for so long, still, a part of him couldn’t help but smile fondly at the texts, warmth spreading in his chest at the concern, a feeling no one other than samsoo had ever been able to evoke in him.
that much had to be worth a song right?
jaewon could work with this, but of course not before responding to his boyfriend.
[ 20:31 outgoing message : my universe ] sorry, i lost track of time [ 20:31 outgoing message : my universe ] i just got an idea so it will be few hours still probably [ 20:32 outgoing message : my universe ] let me make it up to you tomorrow? no plans or anything, just us [ 20:33 outgoing message : my universe ] i love you, see you in a few hours
after that, his phone ended up back where it had been all those previous hours, after all, he had better things to focus on, like writing. he wanted a song that did justice to the happiness he felt whenever hearing from soo, how his heart felt lighter with every text message, every phone call from his boyfriend that had pretty much been dragging him through the workload that mainly had come with champion lately.
even two years into their relationship, their was a certain giddiness that came whenever his boyfriend’s name popped up on his phone, especially when the two of them were separated for a longer period of time.
it's a waste of time being alone and i'm waiting for your reply
the more lyrics he writes, the more he deviates from his original inspiration, somewhere along the line deciding to depict a relationship in its earlier stages rather than his own. as lovestruck as him and soo still were up to this day, jaewon had no doubts that he had been even more whipped, even more impatient to spend more time as a couple than he was today. this wasn’t supposed to just be about his relationship, it was supposed to have a universal feeling to it, something almost everyone could relate to.
i don't want to be alone let's just go out to the cafe on a day like this
it seemed a fitting theme for the color white, the excitement and eagerness of young love. of anxiously awaiting a text message even though you’d seen each other a few minutes ago, almost obsessively yet so innocent, so well-intended that it’s hard to attach a negative connotation to it. a helpless, awkward kind of impatience as you’re still figuring out the ins and outs of dating.
ya, what are you doing, except for me, call me what are you doing?
some more hours passed but eventually, jaewon finished the song a little before midnight. it was still a draft, some parts would undoubtedly have to be tweaked, words swapped out to be more fitting but it’s just fine-tuning, it can wait.
at the moment, jaewon just wanted to return home to soo with the same eagerness in his heart that he had just written down for reply.
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(he did end up fine-tuning the lyrics but not until the 23rd, the day he went in for recording and producing the final version of the song. ideally, he would have waited with the final recording until after the demo performances the next day but with champion leaving for america almost immediately, there was no time for that, the deadline slated for when he would be in the state. this would have to do instead, trying to get done the majority of the work before he left and if anything needed to be changed after the demo recording, any unforseen feedback, suggestions of criticism, jaewon would have to trust on his co-producer to take care of it. not that the thought worried him, the man was probably more skilled than he was anyway.)
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