#you guys would never understand the complications of a brown family huh..... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jimilter · 3 years

Text

riptide (m) | k.sj. | (1/2)

one | two

pairing: kim seokjin x reader

rating: m (18+)

genre: angst | smut | established relationship!au

summary: It takes a foolishly trivial incident to unravel how astonishingly little you and Seokjin actually understand each other. It has you questioning your relationship, and him? Well, he’s questioning his whole life.

warnings: swearing + implied alcohol consumption + realistic relationship problems + mentions of insecurities, jealousy, complicated mental dispositions + emotional distress + sexual situations (unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talking, a bit of manhandling, fingering) + mentions of masturbation + a ton of miscommunication (refer to the summary smh)

word count: 12.3 k

note: it’s FINALLY done, y’all! came up to be a monster of 25k words, so i decided to split it into two. i’ll drop the other part next week. this took a lot more time, energy and re-writing than i’d thought it would. i began writing this in january - it’s been five excruciating months! 😩 i really hope y'all will like this one~ 🥺💜

💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

riptide (n) – a dangerous area of strongly moving water in the sea, where two or more currents meet.

Lady, running down to the riptide - Taken away to the dark side - I wanna be your left hand man.

The turn of events has been so fucking hilariously impossible that Seokjin has literally been rendered speechless. Which doesn't happen often, mind you. What can he do, he is just extremely witty—he always has something to say about everything, usually and preferably with impeccable comic timing. Especially when it comes to you.

This, though. This completely baffling scenario, right in front of him, has him gaping like a goldfish with no words to say.

"Final call, Jin. Gawk at me for five more seconds and I walk out of here," you threaten, an elegant arm poised at your waist and gorgeously plump lips pressed into a thin line. "Say something?"

And Seokjin still cannot formulate a single word, because what the actual fuck? How can you even think that he could ever—

"Alright." You catwalk out of his bedroom, leaving him blinking into space.

He jumps the next second, leaping after you. "Honey! How would—what—I can never—why do I even have to say—will you wait? You’re being so ridiculous, right now, I hope you know that!"

If he wasn't in such a fix, Seokjin would physically cringe at his speech. It was better when he was just gaping.

“Honey! Stop being so overdramatic, you’ve known me and you’ve known Jimin! For years! Stop acting like you seriously don’t know what happened, here!”

You don't stop, though, gliding down the stairs and hopping over the haphazardly tossed items in the living room as you exit out of the house.

And then you're gone. You're really gone, over something so fucking ridiculous, that Seokjin still has no words to say.

All he knows is that his girlfriend of five years has finally gone crazy enough to jump to conclusions of such high magnitude of stupidity.

And, that Park Jimin is a dead man.

It all begins on an unsuspecting Sunday morning, when the entire house is smelling of weed, stale booze and some worse fluids.

Last night, Seokjin vacated his own bedroom for the boys to smoke up in at Jimin's request, because that is the only well ventilated room of the house. He spent the night in Yoongi's room with earplugs in, dead to all the chaos in the house—as he often does on party nights—to catch up on his beauty sleep. He cannot afford any unbecoming dark circles or, God forbid, breakouts.

And no, that's not a comedic moment, he really does need his face looking perfect this week for reasons outside of personal gratification too, because he has a shoot on Tuesday. He especially took a leave from his part-time job at the Mexican restaurant downtown where his girlfriend, you, work full-time, on a Tuesday—saying goodbye to all the amazing tips always forwarded to the cooks on Taco Tuesday—for this. Nothing would mess up his face.

Not to mention that one very important audition for a very gigantic project he's been looking forward to. They're yet to announce the date, but it would be this very month. He hasn't really told you much about it, planning a huge surprise for later when—if, actually, but he prefers to be unrealistically optimistic in every situation possible—he bags the coveted position, at the end. He hasn't really decided upon much, other than a long drive and a picnic date to one of those grasslands on the city's outskirts that you love so much. Oh, and bringing up the prospect of moving in together in an apartment with just the two of you.

He's pretty certain you must not remember him raving about the opportunity, because it has been months since he did that. He then proceeded to be covert about all the mini auditions and trainings he underwent to prepare for the final audition, and he is confident you have not connected the dots.

But that is all a discussion for later — he doesn't even know when he would be auditioning.

The crux of the whole matter is that he needs to keep looking as flawless as he can until that audition happens.

So he has slept like a baby, last night, while the rest of his friends have partied, including two out of three of his housemates—Hoseok and Jimin—along with Taehyung and Taehyung's girl. Namjoon had foregone attendance in lieu of the Halloween party, next weekend, that he knows he would definitely be forced to attend because Hoseok is hosting. Yoongi, his third and final housemate, escaped the house altogether to spend a night of music-making with Jungkook in his dorm.

So, in the morning, when Seokjin is moving around his kitchen that seems to have been hit by a tornado, checking the fridge and mentally praying that his baggie of smoothie ingredients is still in good shape—a scream echoes around the house.

Seokjin freezes. That sounded a lot like…you.

Immediately alert, he runs out of the kitchen and into the drawing room. Hoseok is hanging upside down on one of the couches, something that looks a lot like undigested white sauce pasta puddles on the ground, inches from his new, fiery red hair. Seokjin grimaces.

"Kim Seokjin!" your screech tears the silence.

Seokjin twists on his heels, looking up in the direction of his bedroom. It really is you. And you're in his bedroom—the room he did not occupy last night.

God only knows what kind of a scene you have walked in on. He hopes these idiots didn’t have an orgy up there, although he really can’t put it past them.

Not waiting another second, Seokjin rushes up the stairs and pushes through the doors to his bedroom. His mouth falls open on an audible gasp.

You stand next to his bed, dressed up elegantly in a navy dress that ends above your knees—which makes him wonder if you are here for an impromptu breakfast date—with one hand clutching his duvet that has uncovered what looks like…

…a head of long, dirty blonde hair.

Who the fuck?

In his bed?

"Hey, Honey!" Seokjin's voice is a squeak. "You… you here for a date?" he manages out of a suddenly parched throat.

You roll your eyes. "Uh huh. A fact you would've known if you looked at the texts I sent you last night." Your eyes are narrow at him. "This explains why you didn't, though. Busy night, Jin?"

He balks at your words, at a loss. How could you even think it was him, when you know all about Park Jimin and his escapades?!

Seokjin's blood boils. Fucking Jimin. There is going to be blood on Seokjin’s hands.

In the midst of it, the blonde head shifts.

Soon after, as you two watch, a pair of brown eyes with smudged makeup emerge from inside Seokjin's bed—and the audacity?! There’s makeup all over his covers! Jimin will pay for the dry cleaning. The face is followed by a whole, tiny woman of five-something feet who is, thankfully, covered in a shirt.

Seokjin is almost not breathing when the blonde starts to give him a dreamy smile, his gaze switching between her and you. And it’s extremely stupid, because he hasn’t seen this woman before, ever, in his entire life. But he catches the way your arms fall to your sides and those elegant, dainty fingers of yours ball up into fists as you look at the blondie’s face.

Fortunately, the girl recognises him at last before her grin could turn fully dopey, and with a squeak, jumps out of the bed. “You’re not—um. Hi. Sorry, I, uh. I’ll get going.”

And surprisingly, she does exactly that in less than a minute, leaving you to stare down at Seokjin.

“You know, it’s really unbecoming for a girlfriend to keep finding girls in her boyfriend’s bed every other week and not be given an explanation, ever.” Your tone is teasing, but your eyes are taunting. “You shouldn’t always be so dismissive, you know? What if I start getting ideas? I don’t think you even remember how to make up with your girlfriend, at this point, because I never fight.”

That is when Seokjin starts gawking. And literally doesn’t stop until you’ve left the house.

“I don’t get it,” Jackson says, stuffing cold noodles into his mouth and chewing on them without closing it. “Do you think he cheated on you, or do you not think he cheated on you?”

You look at your best friend with your face twisted up in disgust. You swear to God you would never have agreed to make friends with this guy on your mother’s insistence when the Wang family moved in next doors to you, had you known he’d turn out to be such a barbarian a decade later. Twelve-year-old Jackson had been such a decent kid—studious, elegant, well-mannered. What went wrong, along the way?

You exhale, shifting on your chair, very wary of any dried up fluids that you might come in contact with. “I know he did not cheat on me, Jax, the very notion is completely ridiculous.”

Jackson stops chewing and looks away from the WWE match playing on the TV to squint at you. “I’m…confused? Wait. What is the problem, then? What are you mad at him for?”

To be completely honest, you aren’t quite certain yourself.

But you do know that you don’t feel good. And that this feeling has been building up over a couple months, but you have only really acknowledged it head-on, today, in all five-something years of your relationship. Five years, seven months and eight days, to be exact, but that’s kinda besides the point.

You’ve had at least a few months’ worth of buildup that has gotten you to this point, you would admit. Especially after Seokjin had to cancel that visit to your hometown at the end of June, for your parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration because he had an important audition for a big-brand ad film. The cancellation was acceptable, but his offhand comment that, “thirty-five isn’t even that special, we’ll get them a huge gift for their fiftieth,” stayed with you longer than it should’ve. Things got okay-ish when you reminded yourself how Seokjin never really thought too hard about things he said, always being a humorous, unattached clown in every situation. But this morning's dismissal has pushed you over that edge. You straightaway goaded him, claiming he doesn’t remember how to make it up to you, and all you got in response was his shock and being called “ridiculous” and “overdramatic.” Fun.

You were most certainly joking, if a bit caustically, when you said what you did. He could have taken it as a joke and laughed it off. He could have taken it as a threat and comforted you, said it was Jimin that used his room, and maybe kissed you. You already knew what had happened when you saw the girl, anyway. But this was probably the third time this situation had happened, this month.

Sure, you are understanding and really do know Jimin and what all he gets up to, but is that really supposed to be such a given? Asking your boyfriend to hug you close and kiss your forehead when you discover a girl in his bed just as you were about to cuddle the lump of sheets thinking it was him, is not too much to expect, is it?

Granted, Seokjin has never been extremely expressive, but still. It feels like he’s consciously trying to keep you at a distance, these past few months.

You don’t have the complete grasp of the storm of thoughts in your head yet, but you want to try and explain it to Jackson the best you can.

“It was about respect, in a way, I guess,” you quietly mumble, and Jackson turns the TV off, now sitting cross legged on the couch to face your chair. He puts away his takeout container to frown at you, probably gleaning how serious this is for you. “He stood there, without saying a single word, expecting me to stop being mad. Almost willing me to stop being mad by making these big, incredulous eyes at me. Like it was that horrible of his girlfriend to demand for an explanation when she found a girl in his bedroom. It was just the two of us, I wasn’t making a scene in front of anybody. He just—ugh! He could’ve simply asked me to not be mad, said it was Jimin who spent the night in the room and maybe even laughed about it, or plotted Jimin’s murder—I would’ve joined in—but no. He acted like I was being stupid, told me not be ridiculous and dramatic. And that made me feel really stupid.”

Jackson winces. “And why do you think you were not being stupid?”

You exhale. “I wasn’t. Because I wasn’t actually accusing him of anything, and five years down the lane, he should know that now. I just wanted him to say it and not scold me when I tease-taunted him. He always expects me to know everything. And even though I always do, it gets tiring sometimes. These weird thoughts get to you — that maybe you’re being too understanding and he’s using that to his advantage, you know?” You look down at your lap, playing with your nails. “It’s just…um. I wanted him to coddle me, I guess. To treat this as something big because I was throwing a tantrum about it and, just, I don’t know—try to cajole me? Assuage me with his words, maybe? But he didn’t. Because he hasn’t done that in forever. Because I never need him to, because I always freaking understand everything!” A sob leaves you.

Jackson pats the place next to him. “C’mere, you dumdum, and stop hyperventilating,” he mumbles, hugging you to his side when you move to sit on the couch. “I don’t exactly understand how the relationship dynamics work, but from what you told me, I get that you wanted attention? Some loving? And instead you got disappointed looks because Jin expected you to be mature and rational about it — the way you always are — and that too with his fucking eyes and some low-key insult words? Is it something like that?”

Wow, Jackson really paraphrased all that amazingly. “Yes, actually. It’s exactly that.”

Jackson sighs. “Y’all have been together a long time, babe, so I guess it’s kind of a given that you’d get to a no-bullshit point. Which is why he hasn’t done that in forever, because y’all probably don’t need that kinda stuff between you anymore.”

“I get that, it’s how a relationship matures. But I’m pretty certain that it’s not supposed to make me feel like this,” you sound slightly muffled, having stuffed your face into Jackson’s hoodie-covered chest. “I feel—I feel like we got too comfortable and now he’s just started to take me for granted. And I also feel like I’m being too needy. Am I being needy and annoying? He’d hate me if I told him all this, won’t he? Half of the reason we’ve worked out so well is because we’re both career oriented and don’t waste time overthinking stupid shit.” You gasp. “Oh, no—would he leave me? He’s used to his girlfriend being mature, not needy—”

You are cut off when Jackson pulls you away by your shoulders, giving you a serious look. “Wait, wait, stop. What did you say? Not the needy part, you’re allowed to be needy once in all the damn three-sixty-five days y’all stay busy for. The…taking you for granted part. Pretty big of a thing to say, babe.”

You sigh. “We haven’t been on an actual date in months. Seokjin thinks there’s no need for that extra effort when we spend lunch breaks at work together, everyday. Outside of the restaurant, our meetings involve our entire flock of friends by default. It’s been three months since we slept together.” You sniff, hating having to impart such a private detail of your life. “So no, I don’t think it’s that big of a thing to say, at all.”

“Wow.” Jackson gives a slow whistle. “You’ve really been bottling up a lot in there, huh?”

You shrug. “I guess. It never made me feel underappreciated, though. Sure, I was irritated at some occasions and disappointed at others, but… Today I feel horrible, Jax.”

“Did you share anything with Byulyi?” he asks, referring to your flatmate and good friend since college.

You shake your head. “She already has a lot on her plate, right now. She got rejected by the photographer she wanted to intern with, so it’s back to freelancing for her.”

“Yeah, that must suck.” Jackson grimaces. Then he looks at you. “You need to take a break, hun. Sit back, today, and have tacos and beer with me. Reset your inner thoughts. Talk to Jin tomorrow. Although, I must say, it’s kinda depressing that you have to actually tell your boyfriend that he’s being a bad boyfriend. Isn’t that kind of shit supposed to be realized on your own?”

You purse your lips. “I guess, yeah. But…don’t say that he’s being a bad boyfriend, Jax. I don’t think he even realizes something is wrong.”

“And that…doesn’t make it worse?” At your raised eyebrows, he concedes with a roll of his eyes. “Fine, fine, in any case — maybe try to hint at it before you dive straight in with the kill? See if he reacts?”

“I don’t know, Jax. What if he doesn’t? He’s really not the best at taking hints and reading signs, or that kind of subtle stuff.”

“Then you can just say your shit. All I’m saying is, give him a chance to figure it out on his own. He’s probably really clueless why you reacted so big on something so small, this morning. If you drop hints, maybe he’ll feel it out.”

You nod, somewhat amazed at how sound Jackson’s advice seems. “How are you doing this, Jax? Being a love guru all of a sudden?”

Jackson scoffs. “I’m just tryna put myself in Seokjin’s shoes. If I was in the situation he’s in, this is what I’d like to happen — be given a window to figure out what’s wrong. You’ve been together a long time, hun. It really shouldn’t be that difficult for him.”

You shrug a shoulder. “I won’t be too sure about that. Why does it even matter if he can or cannot, though?”

Jackson seems to be mulling over something before he drops his chin to his chest. “Because you’re supposed to be partners, hun. If you can tell what’s up with him with a single glance, why can't he? Not being good at taking signs is not a good enough excuse. My gut says that he’d be able to, though. And that knowledge will make you feel infinitely better, trust me. It’ll be reassuring to learn that he really knows and understands you well, won’t it?”

You nod, slowly, but you still have your suspicions. Seokjin has just been the kind of guy whose emotional depth goes to a certain extent and then just — well, stops. There are things that he feels and realizes and sees, and there are things that he doesn’t. It isn’t even something he does, you believe. It’s just how he is. Certain feelings just don’t fall in his orbit. And you’ve never found there to be anything wrong with it when he’s been an immaculately amazing boyfriend and tended to every single one of your needs, always. Well, you have never actually needed emotional consoling, too, so you haven’t had the chance to audition him for that. You keep yourself too busy for all that unnecessary mental pressure. It comes as a surprise, but you have never cried on Seokjin’s shoulder in all these years of your togetherness. You’ve kept your head straight and chin up, even during your college exams. And so has Seokjin, because you’ve never seen him cry, either.

Lately, though, things have been kind of weird. The gradual transformation into your professional lives that began after college, has been drastic in the past few months. Seokjin has been constantly prioritizing his career over you, and you have been understanding about it because you agree with it — to an extent. Seokjin believes it all the way through, though, and you have known for a while that you would hit your limit at some point, and would try to bring him back to yourself. Today morning, it seems, you hit that limit.

You felt dispensable.

You hate this feeling.

To be very honest, you know you can get over this. You can give it some time, remind yourself of how much your Jin loves you, believe that he is eventually going to come back to you once he settles, and be understanding about the entire thing.

You can — but you really don’t want to.

Something tells you that this feeling of getting too comfortable will only fester and take a worse form as time goes by. You can wait it out, sure, and hope you aren’t being a pushover as he works on building his career. You are building your career, too, after all, and at least some of it has been for each other.

The thing is, your plans with Seokjin are long-term—marriage, kids, white-picket fence, and all that. And you believe that if you are sensing a problem now, you better deal with it now before it has the chance to change its form and affect you both when you are at a more responsible point in your life.

Mind made up, you look up at Jackson, immediately grimacing when he forwards a greasy hand to pick up a taco for you. “I don’t…I don’t like tacos. And may I exchange the beer for scotch?”

“You work at a Mexican restaurant, and you don’t like tacos,” Jackson deadpans.

“They mess up my skincare.”

“Oh, fuck off! Have a spinach smoothie with a drink, why don’t you?”

You purse your lips to hold back your laughter at his ire, your own worries forgotten in the moment as Jackson gets up to get you a glass of scotch and some healthier snacking alternative.

“You're a dead man.”

Jimin stops dead in his tracks, arms frozen in the act of putting a t-shirt on. He blinks at Seokjin with big round eyes. “Hyung?” he mumbles, a picture of unblemished innocence, especially when he covers his toned torso with the oversized t-shirt he was in the process of getting into. “What—what’d I do?”

Someone who doesn’t know better would never believe that this young, innocent, frazzled haired fairy-boy could ever do any wrong. But Seokjin knows better. “You chaotic womanizer,” Seokjin nearly hisses, "you've gotta learn to clean after yourself. Honey found a girl in my bed. A girl—in my bed.”

Jimin had the decency to drop the innocent act. “Oh. Oh.”

Seokjin raises a brow. ��Oh? That’s it?”

"Yeah, well, I clarified to her that it was a one time thing when we got to it. She was obviously expecting something more if she didn't leave when I told her to. Disappointed but not surprised." Jimin is frowning when he comes to sit down on the couch next to Seokjin. “Sorry you two had to see that. You clarified to Honey noona that I’d been the occupant of the room, though, right?”

“I—what?” Seokjin scoffs. “Why would I even need to do that? She knows that already, obviously. She’s been seeing you for over five years, or have you forgotten?”

Jimin squints. “I mean…okay, fair point, I guess. Why’re you so worked up, then? Did something else happen, too? Where’s she, now?” Jimin looks around the living room as if looking for you.

Seokjin sighs. “Well, I couldn't really get much out before she was storming out of the damn house, altogether.”

Jimin blinks. “Storming out? Why? She… um, was she mad?"

Seokjin opens his mouth – and then shuts it. Was she mad, indeed. "I don't know. She looked kinda mad, yes. But maybe she was in a hurry?"

"Why would she be mad? Did you try to call her? Text her? It's unlike her to react so big on something so small." Jimin bites down on his lip, looking lost in thought.

Seokjin shakes his head. "She didn't pick up or text back."

“There’s definitely got to be an underlying reason for her being like this. Are you sure you guys haven’t been fighting, hyung?”

Seokjin sighs. “Yes, Jimin, I’m absolutely certain that there hasn’t been any fighting of any sorts between the two of us before today.” He pauses. “Well, she was slightly irritated that I didn’t check her texts last night, but she knows I go to bed at eleven on days leading up to a shoot, so that one’s on her.”

Jimin looks genuinely concerned, which, in turn, makes Seokjin concerned. Jimin isn't the type to stress over stuff if he can help it. Sure, he cares about the boys and would always be down to do whatever he can for them, but his throwing-caution-to-the-wind way of life causes him to not take most of the things in life seriously.

You’ve been like an older sister to the boys ever since Seokjin started dating you and introduced you to them. They all have their ways of showing their respect and affection to you. Well, maybe not Jungkook because he can’t get over getting unnecessarily intimidated by Seokjin enough to relax around you.

Jimin, especially, always seems to be affected by any tension in Seokjin’s relationship. Everyone can see how it upsets his entire life when you two are fighting, although he’d never admit to it. He doesn’t need to, because it’s pretty obvious when he becomes a cranky six-year-old who hates the world.

Right now, he has a guilty frown on his face. "I should've seen to it that Suzette left before I went to shower," he mumbles as if talking to himself. “Shouldn’t have trusted her to leave just because I told her to.” He looks up at Seokjin with troubled eyes. "I'm sorry, hyung."

Seokjin can not believe himself when he shakes his head at Jimin's apology—this little demon causes so much chaos in all their lives that any apology coming from him should be justified and welcome. But this one isn't really on him. "It's not entirely your fault."

Jimin's demeanor changes a bit and the attitude Seokjin is used to witnessing makes an appearance. "Right? That's what I was thinking, too!" Jimin exclaims, some of the concern on his face lifting. "You have to talk to Honey noona and make things right, though, hyung. She’s the only womanly touch in our man cave. We’d all be barbarians without her.” Jimin looks very wary and kind of nervous.

“It’s funny you would crave her ‘womanly’ presence when she’s rushed off because of a woman that you brought home.” Seokjin scrunches his nose. "And I said it isn't entirely on you, because it is partially on you, Park Jimin. You borrowed my room to smoke up in. Why couldn't you take your Suzy back to your own room?"

"Suzette," Jimin corrects under his breath while shaking his head. "Yeah, I should've, but… your room just felt like a better choice during the high," he finishes in a mumble, dragging a hand down his face. “Hyung,” Jimin says with a pout on his lips, “the last time you two fought was two years ago, remember? On your birthday? When Hobi hyung dumped cake in noona’s hair and she had her first shoot for that bigshot magazine, the next day?”

Seokjin nods with a sigh. “She yelled at me for having stupid friends, and I yelled at her for caring more about the shoot that having a good time on my birthday. Yes, I remember.”

“And then she didn’t visit us for a whole week. Please don’t let that happen, again.” Jimin looks up at Seokjin with big, round eyes. “I can’t take that kind of unrest in my life."

Seokjin briefly wonders, if Jimin’s nightly conquests were to see this side of him, would they run in the opposite direction or be more attracted to him? Jimin definitely needs someone in his life that would bring out this side in him and stay to provide him the emotional comfort he requires when he gets like this.

“I will try not to, Jiminie, but…” Seokjin shuts his eyes. “I seriously do not understand her actions from the morning,” he finishes in a mumble.

“Maybe she’s—maybe she’s worried about something else? Some other aspect of her life?” Jimin suggests with wide eyes. “And she’s just projecting onto you.”

“As sound as the explanation is, I am literally involved in ninety percent of the aspects in her life,” Seokjin says with a twist to his lips. “I would know if something was wrong anywhere.”

“That’s cocky of you to say,” Jimin snarkily comments with narrowed eyes. At Seokjin’s raised eyebrows, he amends, “That’s cocky of you to say, hyung-nim.”

Seokjin scoffs, but then he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s true. We work at the same restaurant, we’re scouted by the same agency. Even her agent is best friends with mine—she gossips a ton about how Honey passes up so many opportunities and pisses her agent off. Her friends are, well—” Seokjin stops short when it hits him. “Wang. Wang could know something!”

Jimin is looking at him skeptically when Seokjin meets the younger’s eyes. “I just think you should have a simple talk with noona first before digging around.”

That is sensible advice. Seokjin nods as he pulls his phone out.

“Just find out what’s been troubling her, hyung. You two are rational people, I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Jimin pauses to scratch the back of his head. “Just please don’t let this be another fight like that one?”

“Don’t worry,” Seokjin finally says with a pat on Jimin’s shoulder as he finishes sending off another text to you, “this one is nothing like that fight.”

Turns out, this fight really is not like that one. Or any other fights Seokjin has ever had with you, in fact, because you’re giving him the silent treatment.

You’ve never given him the silent treatment.

Not even when you were students and didn’t have a load of time on your hands and used to waste precious sleep hours arguing over stupid shit that would probably resolve itself if you just slept on it and looked back at it with a fresh state of mind. Not even then did you forego talking.

Needless to say, Seokjin is distressed.

You drive to the house to pick him up at your usual time, the next morning, after not having responded to any of his calls or texts for the entire day. Seokjin is aghast as he gets into the car.

“Honey! What is going on? Why didn’t you—where have you been?”

You simply start the engine and take off. “Busy,” you murmur after a while.

Soekjin’s head is close to exploding. “Busy? Doing what?”

Your face remains stoic as you weave through the morning traffic. Seokjin looks at you. You’re dressed up in your waitressing outfit that consists of a shirt, skirt and tights, and being who you are, Seokjin can proudly say that you would stand out to be the most well dressed server in the field. You’re always pristine and tidy — no accidents happen to you at the job ever. No spillage of drinks or ketchups, no soiled hands being wiped down on your skirt. Nothing even ruins your manicure.

It is something that Seokjin has always tried to keep up with, this cleanliness streak of yours. Because he has always assumed you would expect it out of him, too. You were attracted to the cover model version of him, after all. It is quite natural that you would have those kinds of expectations. And Seokjin has always been more than happy to deliver. It has become a part of him, in fact. He doesn't even chew with his mouth open even when he's among the boys, anymore.

It has, somewhat, made him practical and less emotional in life, too, but he doesn't really think of it as a bad thing. You have always been practical in life – the most ambitious girl he has ever met, someone that has always prioritized her career and goals over everything else. Seokjin has admired that since college, and has tried to show you that he has similar priorities even if he has had to work on thinking from his mind more than his heart.

But when you are already by his side, what does he even need his heart for, anymore, when it's already yours?

Now, looking at you sitting with a morose expression on your face as you give him the cold shoulder, Seokjin is just as much in love with you as he was when he first met you.

“Stuff,” you say with a shrug, after some extended silence. “You should know about that, right? Your schedule’s always busier than mine and I never complain.”

Your sharp words have him reeling. Whatever do you even mean by that? “Uhm, okay. Fair enough. But… did you really not have the time to respond to a single text?”

“It gets impossible sometimes, Jin, you know how it is.”

Seokjin frowns. He does know that, but he doesn’t feel okay. Something is very off with you. It is as if you’re saying something else and expecting him to discern a different meaning out of it.

He doesn’t understand why, though. You, of all people, should know how terrible he is at decoding signs.

He sighs.

Seokjin, after his conversation with Jimin yesterday, had decided to ask you about the morning’s incident, head on, whenever you called him back. But you didn’t, and this is the first opportunity he’s had to talk to you, so he decides to bring it up, now. “What—what happened yesterday morning, babe? You got really mad and stormed off, and… I mean, you’ve got to know the girl had been Jimin’s companion for the night, right? You know him, how he is!”

You say nothing, hands tightening a bit on the steering wheel. Seokjin looks down at his own hands.

“You know I was only surprised at your words because we really do not have the time to be discussing silly things." He shuts his heart down when it tries to tell him to go soft. He knows it isn't something you would appreciate. "After five years, you know what I’m capable of right? You can never start getting ideas, because that would be insane and stupid. I’m already so supremely occupied as it is between two jobs, when would I even have the time to cheat, right?” he jokes, snorting to himself.

You’re still quiet, but your tongue comes out to moisten your lips. It is a nervous tick of yours which Seokjin recognizes very well, because with your skincare and scheduled regular application of lip balms, your lips never need the extra moisture.

He frowns. Was he too straightforward? But this is exactly how you communicate with him! “Hey, is everything okay, babe?”

You exhale, noisily. “Everything’s fine, Jin,” you finally say with a roll of your eyes. “And you’re right. I know you wouldn’t cheat. You don’t have the time to chat me up, how are you gonna pick someone new to impress, huh?”

Your snort sounds lacking in humor, but Seokjin still gives a couple of stilted chuckles. Even so, he's still somewhat relieved. “Right. Just so we’re certain, that was a joke, right? I mean, it would be really ridiculous of you to think that I would—”

“Yes, Jin!” you cut him off with a deep frown. “If I wanted to talk to you about something, or accuse you, or confront you — I’d do that without you having to prompt me. Stop obsessing over yesterday and stop trying to explain yourself. I know it was Jimin’s doing.”

Seokjin feels immensely relaxed at the conviction with which you say the last sentence, certainly, but something is still off. “Why were you ignoring me, then?”

“I just didn’t have anything to say to you.” You stop at a red light, the last one before you reach the restaurant, and turn to look at Seokjin with really vacant eyes. He doesn’t like your stare one bit. “We’ve been together five years, babe. If neither of us have got anything of significance to say, I’d rather not text too much, if that’s okay with you? I’ve got a busy schedule to work around, too, you know?”

Seokjin wants to remind you that both of you had something of significance to say after you left his place in anger, but chooses to just roll with whatever you’re playing at. Maybe he's thinking too much. He nods. “Sounds alright to me.”

“Great,” you breathe out, somehow looking disappointed along with the preexisting sorrowful expression you had on your face.

You really do not have a concrete explanation for why you acted the way you did with Seokjin, this morning.

You were supposed to hint at being mad, not blatantly try to give him a taste of his own medicine. It could turn out to be a good thing if he eventually starts to miss you and reaches out, sure, but playing mind games never feels right to you. But when he started to joke about not having time to cheat, and something just turned off in you. He really could’ve seriously reassured you of his love. That would’ve been actually comforting. But no. He chose to joke about that, too. You didn’t feel like putting in all that energy anymore, after that.

Now, you sit down in the break room to check your phone during your ten minutes’ rest break. A text message floats at the top of your notifications.

Jax 🚽 Hey How’d it go?

With an exhale, you decide to call him back. Your fingers are too tired to type, and Jackson is sure to launch off into a rampage of texts the moment you tell him you’ve tried to turn the tables on Seokjin.

Seokjin is in the kitchen, his usual rest break not being for another hour, so you don’t have to worry about him walking in.

“Hey!” Jackson jovially greets you as soon as he picks the phone. “Did you get my text?”

“I did, yes,” you respond in a calm voice. “I’ve been looping milkshake mugs through my fingers since eight am, they needed some rest, so I decided to call.”

“Yeah, no, it’s cool. I was in a really boring class, anyway. So. How'd it go?"

You pull in your lip between your teeth. "I… I kinda ended up telling him I am a busy person too and that we shouldn’t text that much."

You hear silence instead of the outburst you'd expected.

"Jax?"

"Are you actually gonna try to play a mind game with the dumbest human being you know on earth?" Jackson so very eloquently asks, his interpretation making you pinch the bridge of your nose. “He’s never even gonna figure it out!”

“I know how it sounds, okay?” You exhale. “I honestly don’t know what came over me.”

“Okay, alright, one thing at a time. So, no coddling?"

"Not a single soft word. Just more expectations of me understanding, and claiming that anything but that would be stupid of me. He acts like I'm supposed to know everything about him and everyone in his group of friends," you mutter in irritation. “As if those dumbasses know the first thing about themselves.”

You realize you're being a bit harsh, because his friends – basically your younger brothers, at this point – are a bunch of clueless idiots that love, adore and respect you. You shouldn't be badmouthing them, Seokjin’s growing callousness towards you isn't their doing. It's his own.

You sigh. You really miss how things used to be when you were in college.

“Uh, I think we need to rewind a bit. What happened? What triggered this?”

It makes you smile a little when Jackson asks that. At least your best knows you’re not wholly clinically insane. “Well… I drove him to work. He…" your brows lower at the recollection, "he was the first to bring up yesterday morning. And yet again, he gave me the same you've got to know this and that crap, and then he tried to assure me in the dumbest possible way. Do you know what he said, Jax, do you?”

“Um, do I wanna know?”

“He said, and I quote, he doesn’t have the time to cheat. Jackson Wang, are you hearing this? He really straight up said he was too busy to cheat on me and so I should rest assured! Who says that?!”

“He must’ve meant it as a joke—”

“Yeah, he said that, too, and then very immaculately added that it’d be ridiculous of me to think otherwise. I have lost count of how many times the words ridiculous and stupid came up.”

“Goddammit.”

“Goddammit is right,” you mumble, morosely resting your head on your palm.

“What did he say, by the way? When you told him to text less?”

You give a wry chuckle. "Well, he said it sounded alright to him."

"Son of a bitch. You – you two are messed up, man. Messed up bad. Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't? You don't wanna text less because you're busy, you want him to dote on you because you miss him!" Jackson sounds beyond frustrated. "And it doesn't fucking sound alright to him! It sounds scary, it sounds confusing, it sounds like something you would never say to him!" He groans. "But none of you would say that shit to each other! You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess."

You reel from the onslaught of his harsh words, eyes widened and breath stuttering. Jackson isn't usually the type to pay so much attention to your relationship problems. But this time, you guess, he has garnered the depth of your unhappiness and thus has gotten so involved.

You realize he is right. Nothing good can come out of any turned tables, because Seokjin is, anyways, not even going to be able to work out the problem by himself. He may even go around talking to his friends about how you were being cold with him and not giving him any time, and still not realize he has been doing the same to you. He is thick like that.

When his friends tell you tales of his compassion, you're unable to relate. You've never seen that side of him. He has probably grown up from that emotionally overwhelmed high school graduate who had made friends on a whim, the night of his graduation.

You certainly don't appreciate the emotional abstinence, though, and would very much rather prefer if he would open up a bit more. It would help you be more open with him, without fearing him calling you "stupid" in response.

But it’s still alright, you accept him with that thick brain of his, because he’s still only ever going to be the only one for you.

"How are you two gonna get around to having a proper chat if you just keep building more walls between you both?" Jackson asks after the long pause from your end, this time softer. “I’m sorry, babe, I was wrong. Giving him signs and making him realize shit won’t work. It was stupid of me to suggest that. It’s probably why you ended up being so caustic with him.

“No, no, it was all me, Jax. I could’ve chosen to not listen to you, but my ego got in the way, I guess. It’s not exactly easy, telling your boyfriend you’re feeling neglected. I mean, what if he laughs in my face and tells me I’m being paranoid? What if he thinks I have no regard for his career — or mine — because my priorities don’t align with his?” You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as your insecurities attack you.

“Hey, no. None of that is gonna happen if you really share with him what you’ve been feeling. No hints, no sarcasm, you’re gonna have to tell him point blank. Allow yourself to be raw. He’s the love of your life. You don’t have to protect yourself from him, right?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I know. You’re absolutely right, Jax. But I really have no idea how to even approach him, at this point. He’s either too busy with shoots, or with the guys, or some meeting. I cannot do this on call, because that always leads to misunderstandings.” You bite down on your lower lip, contemplating. “But I’ll figure something out.”

"Yes, you will. You always do. So, that’s good then. In the meanwhile, can you at least clean up this latest pile of poop? The talking less thingy is gonna make you two more distant, hun."

You scrunch your nose at his metaphor, but then your shoulders slump. "I don't know, Jackson. The way he so impassively agreed to it would make me sound really stupid if I take it back. And given what he keeps saying, he really doesn’t want me to sound stupid."

Jackson gives a snort at that. “Hah, funny. But listen. At the end of the day, he’s your boyfriend. You're gonna have to really decide if you're trying to get your boyfriend to give you more love, or if you're fighting a battle of egos and would like to bend him to you."

You bite your lip. “You make me sound manipulative.”

“You yourself confessed you let your ego come into this, one time. Don’t let that happen again. I’m trying to make you realize that complicated problems can have simple solutions, too. If only you’d communicate. Just talk to him soon, please, and make him understand why you’re hurt. Don’t carry on with this stupid cold war, okay? You gotta figure out exactly what you want, first.”

“You know what I want, Jax. You’re literally the only person that does, actually,” you remind him with a sigh.

“Oh, he is, isn’t he?”

You freeze, eyes bulging at the familiar voice. “I’ll… I’ll call you back,” you mumble before you disconnect the call and turn to look over your shoulder at Seokjin’s unreadable face. He stands with his arms crossed, still in his uniform but without the apron. “Jin… what—uh…”

“What am I doing here?” he scoffs, lips curling in distaste as he stares you down. “Well, I was going to the loo when I saw you sitting here. You looked upset, so I thought I’d check in on you on my way back.” He clicks his tongue, a dry chuckle tumbling out. “But apparently, you’ve got other people doing it for you, already.”

You wince, shutting your eyes. The one time he was finally going to give you some much needed attention — you sent a bad message his way.

“So. Good to know there actually is someone who knows what you want. Would’ve been easier if it were me, though, given how I stand to be the one that is to deliver.” Seokjin sounds pissed off, and despite your irritation, you really want to make him understand.

You rub at your forehead. “Stop talking like that, Jin, it was just Jackson.”

“Wang?” He seems to seethe more, for some reason. “Of course, it’s fucking Wang!”

You frown, standing up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Seokjin looks at you incredulously. “You—do you not see how this looks? You have problems with me, Honey, but you choose to discuss them with him? Who’s he, your therapist?”

“He’s my best friend, Jin, someone I trust,” you grit out.

Seokjin seems to take it the wrong way, his agitated expressions slowly fading into a blank stare. “Oh. You trust him, as opposed to…” He trails off with a shrug, but the implication is as obvious as it can be.

“Jin—”

He raises a hand up, palm facing you as he looks away. “If you need some time apart, you should tell me in plain words. You know I’m not good at reading signs.”

Seokjin gives you a blank stare before turning around to leave the area. You stand rooted to your place, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

Some time apart? Has he lost his mind?

He really is a huge freaking idiot who cannot pause to think what implications his words have. He seriously doesn’t recognize what all his “don’t be ridiculous/overdramatic/stupid” speeches do to you. You realize you should really make him understand. This has gone on for way too long.

But maybe you should take some time to yourself to cool off before that. You don’t want to say the wrong thing in your rage and complicate things further.

You sigh to yourself as you slump back into the bench you were sat on before.

You’d set out to tell your boyfriend you were feeling neglected, but you ended up making him think you want to be apart. How the heck did you get here?

You belatedly recall Jackson's words.

Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't?

You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess.

Your usually dumbheaded best friend was right on this one, you realize. You should’ve just talked like a normal human being instead of letting Seokjin’s words get to you and get pissy in retaliation.

You give a weary sigh.

Seokjin is grateful for the sudden busyness he’s got on his schedule, or he would explode from all the pent up frustration you have been causing him.

He realized he wasn’t as upset with you as he was irritated, right after he walked away from you on Monday. He dropped you a text with some excuse of needing to stay back so that he wasn’t forced to ride with you in the car again, and later took the bus home.

You had told Jackson Wang about what was troubling you, but not him. It made Seokjin feel upset, incompetent and more than a little insecure. Seokjin absolutely hates feeling insecure. Especially about you. You’re the singular most precious entity in his life — not that you are an entity, per se — and anything that seeks to threaten your position in his life or his position in yours, makes him lose his shit.

So it was understandable that he jumped to unfairly disproportionate magnitudes of conclusions that day. When he thought about it, later, he could easily tell that you are just mad at him and not actually contemplating leaving him, not even for a little while. Not that he’d just sit back and have you do that so easily.

Seokjin also hates overthinking, but that is all he did for the entirety of his Monday.

Monday, though, was the last time he had time to overthink. Life got exponentially busier after that.

Immediately after his shoot on Tuesday, he received his agent’s call and was informed of his jam packed schedule for the remainder of the week. He was pulled into two separate magazine ad shoots on Wednesday, a perfume ad film drank up all of his Thursday, and today, a hair product ad film needed him to report to a sunrise point in the city at the ass-crack of dawn. The sky was still dark when he rode across the city with his agent at nearly four in the morning.

And now, the afternoon sun beats down on his car as he drives back alone, his agent staying back to tend to some business. Stopping at a red light, he reaches for his spinach smoothie with one hand and his phone with the other. Ugh, he feels beyond tired.

Blearily, he looks down at the device around a yawn, fingers habitually reaching for your chat.

He took a week off from the restaurant and dropped you a text, late Tuesday evening, informing you of the same.

Honey✨❤👸 Hm, kay. Good luck x

Unsurprisingly, that stands to be your last message in his inbox. It’s been four days.

Sighing, he swipes a hand down his tired face and exits out of the message app. He went to bed at nine o’clock, last night, and owing to the way he has trained his body to sleep on command, he did manage to get a sleep of nearly six hours, too. But it was fitful and plagued with nightmares featuring you.

Knowing he doesn't have to be at the restaurant until Monday and that his next gig isn’t until Wednesday, he cannot wait to get back home and drink his weight in alcohol before he sleeps his way through the weekend.

Just as he has moved past the intersection, his phone rings.

Honey✨❤👸 calling...

He nearly spits the smoothie he just sipped at.

Coughing, he roughly jostles the plastic cup back in the holder and pulls up to a side of the road to pick up the call. “Hey,” he breathes into the phone, embarrassed at his desperation.

“Jin. Um, hi.” You sound awkward, as if you…have been compelled to call him due to some reason.

He is immediately worried. “Honey? Is everything okay, do you need something?”

He hates himself for being so concerned when you have been neglecting him for so many days – yet again, despite your spat at the restaurant – instead of finally talking to him about what’s bothering you, but he can’t help it. At the end of the day, you are the love of his life.

“Yes, yes, I’m okay. It’s just, um. Can you pick me up from the restaurant?” you sound nervous.

But, Seokjin realizes, I was right. You do need something. He clears his throat. “Uh, okay, I guess,” he agrees before stopping short when he realizes the time. “Wait, it’s barely even two. Why are you leaving?” he asks, confused and a little concerned. You work your shift till five every day and till eight on weekends.

“Tomorrow is Halloween, Jin. We’re closing for the weekend, remember?”

Seokjin’s mouth falls open on a gasp. He really had forgotten. “Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there in five, wait up.”

He swerves the car into the lane and takes off in the direction of the restaurant.

He laughs at himself. He has been so caught up in work that he literally forgot Halloween. He wonders if this is what actual adulting is.

He is stopping before the restaurant within three minutes of your phone call, eyes immediately spotting your delicate figure standing on the sidewalk with your hands crossed against your chest.

You step down from the curb when you spot his car, and walk towards him. He watches your elegant legs as they beautifully fall in a straight line. Even when exiting your job as a waitress, you’re every bit the elegant model he met in college. Your hips sway tantalizingly, and something akin to longing swirls in his chest.

He composes himself quickly when you cross the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You awkwardly clear your throat as Seokjin busies himself with starting the vehicle, unsure if he should initiate conversation.

“Um, sorry about this. You were probably getting ready for shoot,” you finally say. “Byulyi dropped me off today. She wasn’t picking her phone up. I was trying to get a cab for half an hour. And the bus stop’s really far—”

“Hey, stop. It’s okay. You should’ve called me sooner.” Seokjin catches your apprehensive gaze on his oversized hoodie when he chances a glance at you. He sighs. “I was returning home from shoot, actually.”

He feels you stiffen, and he feels even more mentally drained at this. You used to be updated with his schedule to the tee — just short of having an actual copy of the calendar his agent carries on him. And the same goes for him with your schedule. This feels so wrong.

You are quiet for a while, your hands fidgeting in his peripheral vision.

“How—how was it?” you finally say, voice coming out like a croak.

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “The usual. Blinding, tiring, exhaustive. I did okay, I guess.”

He feels your gaze snap up to drill holes into his skull. Your eyes are wide when he checks. “Okay? Since when do you do anything less than amazing at shoots, babe?”

He feels endeared at your casual use of a pet name. “I had to get up at three in the morning and go through a skincare routine. Then drive across the entire city to get to the location, because they wanted to capture actual sunrise. I was more tired than excited by the time they rolled cameras, so.” He shrugs. “Can’t really say I gave my best today.”

You nod at his admission.

Seokjin almost jumps when his phone rings, again.

Jiminie calling...

He feels you shift in your seat. His mouth sours at the reminder of that Sue girl that started off this entire tussle between you and him. Fucking Jimin and his conquests. What happened to the shy and more than a little glum looking freshman he let into his living space, three years ago?

Your hand suddenly reaches forth to accept the call, putting it on loudspeaker, immediately. Seokjin gapes at you, momentarily looking away from the road.

“Uh…hyung?” Jimin’s confused voice echoes in the car.

Seokjin snaps out of his daze when you gesture towards the device. “Wh—Jimin, hi, what’s — what’s up?” he stumbles his way through a haphazard greeting.

“Hyung, I needed a favor. Are you on your way back from the shoot, right now?” Jimin asks, and Seokjin sees you freeze in your seat.

He feels a perverse sense of satisfaction. Yes, take that! Park Jmin knows of my schedule better than you do! This is what you get for ghosting me! “I was, yeah. What is it?”

“Oh, great! I kinda need your help, hyung. My tire gave out. Could you pick me up from the Kappa hall?”

Seokjin scowls. “Yah! Who am I, your butler? Hop on a damn bus!”

He notices you pursing your lips, no doubt finding his agitation humorous — you always do.

“Hyu~ng,” Jimin whines. “I would take the bus, but the next one leaves in forty-five minutes and I need to be back within an hour!”

“What? Why?”

“I started on my sem project really late, hyung, and now I gotta spend any time I can spare at the rehearsal hall. I’m meeting a choreographer here in an hour. Please help me out!” Jimin is still whining, and maybe his reasoning is kind of alright, but—

Seokjin is tired to his bones. He literally cannot drive all the way down to your apartment and then drive back to the university campus to pick Jimin up.

He sighs, wearily. “Jimin… I’m really tired.”

“And I’m really desperate, hyung! Dancing is tough! And the subject I've chosen, tougher. I haven't done ballet since first semester, Freshman year! I have to work my butt off and be done in under two months."

Seokjin exhales, feeling beyond exhausted. But then your finger is tapping on the screen and the call has been muted. Seokjin’s surprised eyes fly up to meet yours. You look conflicted, biting down on your lower lip as you shake your head with a frown.

“You should go home and rest, Jin. Leave the car with me, I’ll pick him up.”

“Hyung? Say something?”

Seokjin blinks. “You…”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll pick him up, yeah. He’ll drop me off and drive back to your place.”

“Hyung?! Did you put me on mute, or what? I can't hear a thing!”

“Tell him you’ll be there in ten!” you say, unmuting the call.

“I’m in the car, the network must have glitched. I’ll, uh… be there in ten?” Seokjin nervously finishes off, looking at you in question. You give him a nod, blinking slowly. “Wait up, okay?”

“Oh my God, thank you so much, hyung!” Jimin practically squeals through the phone. “I’ll be in the ice cream shop across the building. I love you, hyung-nim!”

Seokjin rolls his eyes and disconnects the call. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes as he takes a right, now moving in the direction of his apartment instead of yours. “You sure about this? Jimin, um, knows. About our…” Seokjin doesn’t want to call it the f-word, because he would like to believe that you two aren’t actually fighting. “You being upset, I mean,” he settles for the easier alternative. “He might ask questions.”

You give a small huff of wry laugh. “I can handle it, Seokjin. I’ve known Jimin for almost three years now.”

Seokjin doesn’t like it when you address him by his full name. And so, his lips remain pursed for the remainder of the ride, only parting to tell you to “drive safe and text me when you finally get home,” and then he walks inside his apartment without looking back.

He hears his car come to life and then speed away. He shuts his eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter. Gathering his emotional as well as physical bearings, he opens the refrigerator to rummage through some leftovers to munch on while he breaks out a six pack of Budweiser.

Before his fried rice has even reheated, Seokjin groans at the sight of an all too jovial Hoseok entering the kitchen with a glint in his eyes. “No, Hobi. Not now.”

“What? I didn’t say a word, hyung!”

Seokjin winces, shutting his eyes just as the microwave beeps. “I don’t have enough energy to deal with your general aura, right now,” he mumbles, extracting the piping hot glass bowl. He leans down to open one of the compartments beneath the kitchen table to get to the beer that he’s been dreaming of for nearly an hour, now. “I’m dead on my feet and—woah!” Seokjin gasps, cutting himself off.

Hoseok hops into the kitchen, coming around to stand behind Seokjin. “So you found ’em,” he says around a chuckle.

“Found ’em? This is you?” Seokjin whips his head around to glare at Hoseok up from his crouch. “Why is my liquor closet resembling a liquor shop, Hobi? Why do we have all this—” he turns around to read the labels, cursing under his breath. “Why do we have,” he pauses to count, “five bottles of Tequila and eight bottles of Vodka?”

Hoseok frowns in concern. “Eight? There should be ten, hyung, check again.”

Seokjin actually gasps, this time. “What the hell, Jung Hoseok? Explain yourself before I start throwing hands!”

Hoseok smacks a palm against his forehead, taking Seokjin by surprise, yet again. “Tonight’s the Halloween party, hyung! Did you actually forget?”

Seokjin screws his eyes shut, letting his head roll back with a frustrated whine. “No~o, don’t tell me it's tonight. Halloween’s tomorrow, right? Why is the party tonight?”

“Yes, hyung, Halloween in tomorrow, which is why it would be stupid to hold the party when Halloween is ending.”

Seokjin finds the logic to be very severely flawed, but his energy is draining out fast and he cannot keep up with this quarrel. There’s no point, anyway. He’s known about this party for nearly a month. And Hoseok isn’t going to postpone a whole party just because Seokjin is tired.

“You look tired, hyung. You should rest. Recharge yourself before the party, okay? There’s plenty of time.” Hoseok pats Seokjin on the shoulder with a kind smile.

“I’m not even in the mood to party, Hobi,” Seokjin mutters, reaching behind all the glass bottles to extract his pack of cans.

Hoseok scowls at Seokjin. “Because you’re upset about your fight, I realize that. All the more reason to party, hyung! Take your mind off it for some time, why don’t you? You don’t even have to dress up, come as yourself.”

“I’d rather just drink myself to sleep and not wake up for the next twenty four hours.”

Hoseok blocks his path as Seokjin moves to exit the kitchen. “Is Honey coming?”

Seokjin sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, Hobi. Did you invite her?”

“No, hyung, because you said you would.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue. He completely forgot. “Then she isn’t coming.”

Without listening to his protests, Seokjin trudges upstairs with his food and beer. He will be forced to come down for at least a couple shots, he is certain, so he better make as much of the time he has on his hands as he can.

These days, it seems to be becoming a pattern for you to do things without really understanding why you do them.

You nibble at your bottom lip as you recall how gaunt and pale Seokjin had looked when you sat in the car. You had been really self-centered as it is, not really keeping in touch with him for four days, and then reaching out when you needed help. You couldn’t bear to think, on top of everything, that he had driven you home despite his extreme exhaustion while you sat back selfishly and let him drive around the city to pick Jimin up when he looked like a ghost.

You shake your head at yourself as Jimin jogs down the road to enter the car, ten seconds after you texted him.

His gaze is slightly hesitant when he meets your eyes, even though his smile is nothing but genuine. “Hello, noona. How come you are…” he trails off, gesturing around the two of you.

You start the car, shrugging one shoulder. “Seokjin came to pick me up. Now you’re gonna drop me off.”

Jimin gives you a huge smile, before his eyebrows suddenly lower. You look away, veering onto the road. “Wait. Were you in the car with him when I called?”

You chuckle. “Yes.”

“Oh,” Jimin mumbles around a small laugh.

You hum to yourself as you drive, distracting yourself from the thoughts that keep encircling your head. Seokjin is your boyfriend, no matter how mad you might be at him — you love him and care about him. Which is why you have tried to help him out. Not to mention, you felt slightly guilty, as it is, about calling him to pick you up. Why is your gesture of goodwill bothering you, then?

This is what you do for people you care about. Seokjin would do the same.

Your train of thoughts suddenly comes to a screeching halt.

Would he? Would he, really?

“You okay, noona?”

You jolt back from your thoughts, wide eyes turning to look at Jimin. “Wha—yes, yeah, I'm fine.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’re gripping the wheel really hard.”

You look at your tightly clenched fists, and immediately ease them. “Oh, uh. Sorry. A lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Understandably,” Jimin mutters, looking out of the side window when you turn to look at him.

You purse your lips and press down on the accelerator.

A few beats of silence pass between you two before Jimin clears his throat. “Can I say something?” he asks you in a soft voice, looking nothing like the seductive persona he puts forth to get ladies falling in his bed.

You exhale. “Sure.”

“You, um. You are not just hyung’s girlfriend, you know?” he says slowly.

You scoff. “Of course, I do. I am also the very best server my restaurant has ever seen and the best struggling model you’ll ever meet, on the side.”

Jimin snorts, before giggling with his eyes closed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You do. But you do not want to face it. You want to be selfish, for once. You do absolutely know that you have been ignoring all the boys in your anger at Seokjin, but you absolutely do not wish to do anything about it. Not until you’ve resolved this tense air between you and Seokjin.

“You are also a part of our little family,” Jimin quietly finishes.

You suck your lips in at that. The word “family'' really gets to you.

He’s right, isn’t he?

All eight of you — well, nine, now, with the addition of Taehyung’s girlfriend — have been a family since the day you met these guys.

You smile as the memories start to filter in.

You had had a giant crush on Seokjin since the very first time you saw him in your Freshman year. Well, having a crush on the guy wasn’t that unheard of given how handsome he was. It also helped matters that he modelled for the cover page of your university’s journal within his first month in college. What surprised you was his reciprocated interest when you both finally got to know each other, thanks to Byulyi. Your current roommate was majoring in photography back then, and somehow roped the two of you into modelling for her portfolio. Seokjin asked you out during the sixth month of your Freshman year.

You recall being introduced to Yoongi in your Sophomore year, when he entered your college as a Music major. You found him laid back, calm but really sassy, and fun to be around. The three of you often hung out together, and you took immense pleasure in singling Seokjin out with the two of your sarcastic back and forths.

In your senior year, Hoseok transferred to your college as a Sophomore, and Taehyung and Jimin entered as Freshmen.

Hoseok was literally the most lively person you’d ever met in your life. There wasn’t a single moment of boredom next to him. He was easily given the responsibility of planning all your outings and parties, henceforth — a position he still holds with full competence.

Taehyung was usually found to be lost in his head more often than not in his initial college days. He was confused about his major for two entire semesters. With inputs from the group, when he eventually picked Art, he eased into college life. After that, he came out to be one of the weirdest and unwittingly funny guys in the group. You still don’t get how he was the first amongst all the boys to find him a girl.

Jimin was a really quiet and reserved individual, at first. He very rarely interacted with you all, choosing to stay holed up in his dorm room, instead, that Taehyung had forced him to share with him. You suspected he was recovering from a recent heartbreak. It became evident when he started dating someone within a week of getting into college, only to confess it was a rebound when he got dumped. The whoring around that began after the whole debacle is yet to cease, though. Obviously.

Hoseok comes from a really well-off family, and had brought along with him the four-bedroom apartment he currently resides in with Yoongi, Jimin and your boyfriend. His uncle gave it away to him, rent-free of course, and he proposed to share it with the rest of the guys. Seokjin and Yoongi were immediately on board, more than eager to leave the chaotic dorm life behind. Taehyung, contrarily, decided he wanted to get the whole college experience and refused to quit the dorms. Jimin, then, left the dorm he shared with Taehyung to move in with the elders.

You met Jungkook immediately after your graduation on the boy’s eighteenth birthday. He instantly struck you as a smart kid, really good at singing as well as art. Yoongi disclosed he wanted to be a music major in your college, and you tried to encourage Jungkook about it, but the guy could hardly even look at you. It was cute but also hilarious how much he was scared of Seokjin, and by principle, you.

You believe that is still true. Now that you think about it, you're pretty sure you haven’t seen Jungkook ever actually relax around the two of you.

“Noona?”

You blink, coming back to the present as Jimin calls out to you. You take a deep breath, the memories hitting you with tender emotions. All these people are really precious to you, aren’t they? The bunch of you really are a family, aren’t you?

A sad smile swims up to your face. You miss the boys.

When he calls again, you turn to look at Jimin, questioningly.

“Please don’t be mad at hyung,” he slowly says, looking down at his lap. In this moment, he looks quite unlike the Jimin you are used to and reminds you of, instead, the one you’d first met. “He might lack tact, sometimes, but he really loves you a lot. You’re his whole world. Whatever it is that you are angry about, you should tell him about it. I don’t think he would be able to figure it out by himself.”

This, you agree with. “I’ll try, Jiminie.”

“We all miss you. Especially Hobi hyung and I,” he says with a lopsided excuse of a smile.

You resist the urge to fluff his hair. Jimin and Hoseok have been like the younger brothers you never had. You miss them, too.

He suddenly chuckles. "And Yoongi hyung hides it well, but I think he's the one that misses you the most. No one helps him roast Jin hyung quite like you do."

You roll your eyes. "Of course not. It's a waste for Yoongi to even try to find a better partner at roasting Jin."

You spot your apartment building and pull up to it.

“I’ll try to talk to Jin as soon as I can, Jimin, I promise. Don't worry so much about it,” you say as you step out, patting the boy once on his head. "I miss you all, too."

You give a small wave and faint smile to him as he drives away.

tagging: @shrimpmsg

note: so! a lil bit of backstory and the infamous halloween party - how we feelin’ so far? the next part is ~12k words, too, and i’ll post it next wednesday, wait around~ 😘💕

SECOND PART OUT NOW: read here!

438 notes · View notes

ak47stylegirl · 3 years

Text

Doctors Appointment: Chapter 8

Okay here’s the next chapter! Virgil gets some spot light 💚😁 and there is some mention to Jeff’s okayish parenting. It was a fun chapter to write!

I hope you guys enjoy! 😆

Past chapters

@janetm74 @dragonoffantasyandreality @alexthefly @inertplanetary @cg29 @katblu42 @gumnut-logic

--- Virgil was sitting at Dad’s desk, his engineering coursework scattered across the table. There were two empty coffee cups sitting to the side, and one full cup of coffee in Virgil’s hands.

The amount of coffee Virgil drank daily, at eighteen years old, was honestly slightly alarming...

But Scott couldn’t talk...

‘Hey, Scott…’ Virgil smiled as he took a sip of coffee, leaning back in the desk chair. ‘how’s Allie’s appointment going?’

Scott sighed heavily with a grimace, glancing over at Alan’s sleeping form. Alan’s eyebrows were farrowed, head beginning to toss and turn slightly.

‘that bad, huh?’ Virgil mused sadly, frowning softly.

Alan whimpered in his sleep, breathing picking up speed.

“Yeah…” Scott nodded sadly, fingers gently running through Alan’s hair soothingly, trying to calm his baby brother. “It's been a difficult day…”

Alan’s face visible relaxed at the gently stroking motion.

Scott’s shoulders dropped, “-for both of us….”

‘I believe you….’ Virgil sighed in sympathy, brown eyes looking Scott over in concern, ‘you look exhausted, Scooter….’

How this day had been going so far, that wasn’t surprising…

“I am…” Scott chuckled humourlessly, his head collapsing back against the chair. “It’s been a long, long day, and it’s not even over yet….”

Virgil frowned at Scott’s bitter dark tone, concern bubbling in his gut.

‘You know, one of us could take Alan instead next time?’ Virgil suggested hesitantly, not wanting to upset Scott accidently, ‘You deserve a break...’

Scott been to almost every one of Alan’s doctor’s appointments since the diagnosis, even before Dad went missing. Sometimes, most of the time, Dad was too busy to take Alan himself.

Of course, Dad tried to find time but often schedules just didn’t match up. So the nineteen year old Scott would take the five year old on Dad’s behalf.

Virgil knew that Scott had been frustrated at Dad with his lack of presence in Alan’s life. Which had only increased at Alan’s diagnosis, Scott’s protective mother hen instincts going into overdrive.

Scott would often come to Virgil’s or John’s room to rant, pacing back and forth in his frustration. ‘I just don’t get it! Can’t he just change the stupid meeting time or something?!’

‘Is this bloody business more important to him than Alan?!’

Of course, Scott knew that Dad valued them more than the business, but while their Dad did love them, he wasn’t perfect or unfaultable. (a fact Scott often forgot now days...)

Dad made mistakes.

And one of the biggest ones in Virgil’s opinion was the way Dad kept Alan at arm lengths. Dad couldn’t ever fully get over his grief at losing their mother, and unfortunately Alan was the innocent victim in it all.

It wasn’t Alan’s fault that he looked uncannily like Mum or that he was born on the same day Mum died. It was a natural disaster, no one foresaw the avalanche or that mum would be fatally injured.

It was a miracle that Alan was even born...

Virgil knew that Dad loved Alan, but he was still human, and sometimes you can love someone while having...complicated feelings.

Anyway, one of them could take the strain for a bit. They all were Alan’s big brothers after all, and both him and John were legal adults...

They could take some of the pressure off Scott's shoulders.

“No…” Scott shook his head, a determined (stubborn) look on his face. “I’m his legal guardian; it should be me that takes him….”

Virgil frowned, ‘Scott, you know me or John can look after Alan just fine….’

It wasn’t like they hadn’t done it before; Scott wasn’t always able to be there when Alan needed help.

Though Scott damn well tried to be….

“And I don’t doubt it, but….” Scott ran his hand down his face, emotional exhaustion apparent in his mannerisms. “It’s just….”

Alan groaned in misery, getting restless once again

“Alan had a complete and utter panic attack during his blood test-” Scott sighed heavily, caressing Alan’s cheek with a heartbroken look. “-throwing up and everything….”

Virgil’s eyes widened, taken aback at the news. He knew Alan was scared of needles, everyone in the family did, but…

But he never realised it was that bad.

“I…I can’t not be there with him….” Scott pleaded softly, his eyes filled with anguish as he continued to stroke Alan’s cheek. “I just can’t….”

I don’t blame you, Scotty…

‘I…Scott…’ Virgil blinked rapidly, choking on his words and emotions, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t-’

Scott’s eyes shot up in alarm,

“Hey, no. It’s okay….” Scott smiled weakly at Virgil, understanding clear in his eyes. “You were just trying to help. I appreciate it, I do….”

Virgil’s chest felt a little lighter at that. But still, he wanted to help…

‘Well, maybe instead, one of us could come with you guys next time?’ Virgil reiterated his previous suggestion, ‘that way, you’ll have a little help with Allie….’

Which definitely would be needed and very helpful when dealing with an upset Alan. One man simply couldn’t do it all…

No matter how much Scott tried to prove that wrong.

Scott sighed, “Virgil, we’re already stretched thin as it is, I don’t thi-”

‘Just think about it, okay?’

Scott eyed Virgil for a second, before nodding with a defeated sigh. “I’ll think about it. That’s all I can promise….”

Virgil smiled, knowing that he’ll probably have to get John on board to tag-team convincing Scott into agreeing.

Because Scott wasn’t the only stubborn Tracy…

‘Hmmm, this needs more spice...’ Virgil's eyes widened as Grandma's voice flooded up from the kitchen. ‘A half cup- no a full cup of chilli should do it!’

Scott was so unbelievably glad he was not there right now!

Oh wow, that would be hot….

‘Okay, I gotta ask….’ Virgil chuckled nervously, looking over his shoulder with fear clear in his eyes. ‘Are you bringing home dinner, or do I need to flee the island?’

Scott laughed heartily, “Tell John to order something, and I’ll pick it up on the way home….”

Virgil smiled, relieved, nodding. ‘FAB…’

‘Now, to find someone to try this….’ Virgil shot up from his seat at those words, eyes terrified. ‘Virgil, are you up there?!’

‘Got-to-go!’

Scott was roaring with laughter, as Virgil hung up the call in a panic. Oh, little brothers, they were the best entertainment…

“Scotty?” Alan sleepily blinked up at Scott, rubbing at his eyes, “what’s…what’s so f-funny?”

Scott smiled down at Alan, still chuckling. “Oh, just your big brother Virgie running from Grandma’s cooking….”

Alan smiled weakly, “He’s doomed, isn’t he?” Alan giggled, exhausted eyes lighting up in amusement.

“Oh yes…” Scott nuzzled his nose against Alan’s nose with a shit-eating grin, forehands touching. “Quite definitely….”

“So very doomed….”

TBC...

#alan tracy #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #grandma tracy #sick character #sickfic #sicktember2021 #au #tw chronic illness

15 notes · View notes

purplerose244 · 3 years

Text

Irrational - Chapter 6: Okay

BACK WITH ANOTHER ONE!! 💙💙💙

Here’s the sixth chapter for the @spacecampweek, for the prompt “You’re okay”, the one that makes all Space Campers’ heart beat faster! 🥰🥰 I had fun on this one, lots of overthinking Seamus while Krel tries to be sincere 😙

Enjoy! 💕💕

Summary: "I need to talk to you" With a message like this how could someone blame Seamus for being worried out of his mind? Considering how little he was proud of his past and how much it felt like he was never going to make up for it, it felt like the natural conclusion of the upcoming discussion was going to be a breakup. ... he and Krel were not a couple though?

Read it on the AO3

Tarron: Hello Johnson

Tarron: Are you free now, by any chance?

Tarron: I require your presence

Tarron: …

Tarron: I need to talk to you

So, Seamus was panicking. Those few little messages in rigorous grammar had been sent more than an hour ago, and he had been unable to think about anything else ever since. Today’s impossible amount of homework? Forgotten. Logan chatting to him about the latest Fist to Face game? Never heard of it. The fact that his dad had forgotten his lunch in the fridge and tonight he was going to be absolutely unsufferable to the entire world him included? Didn’t even phase him.

All he had allowed himself to do was lay down onto his bed, stare at his ceiling covered in those familiar fluorescent stars and contemplate the universe. Or his life. Or how he was going to deal with it from now on if Krel was going to break up with him.

“… wait a second. Hey, wait a second!” Suddenly he got up, sitting onto his mattress with crossed legs. “He can’t break up with me! We’re not even together!” He stood up, bouncing lightly, the biggest smile over his face. “Krel won’t break up with me because we’re not a couple! That’s it! What a relief! Eheh… yeah, that’s not really good news, but still.” He sighed, scratching the back of his head. “At least whatever this is it’s not for that… is it?” He widened his eyes. “Can he break up with me as a friend? Is that a thing?!” He slowly let himself fall down onto his seat again, gaping helplessly. “Oh gosh, what is going on anymore, how do you do relationships again??” He was so happy Steve wasn’t there witnessing his breaking down and teasing the heck out of him.

His eyes fell onto his phone, left untouched over the nightstand. There was only way to find this out, no matter how terrifying it was. Seamus took a deep breath and picked it up.

Me: Sounds serious

Me: Alright man, be there in ten

Tarron: Thank you

This guy was even taking the time to thank him. Him, the arrogant Krel Tarron, the one who had always taken every chance at showing teachers how to do their jobs, so he didn’t have to thank them for accidentally teaching him. Something was definitely off, and Seamus wasn’t completely sure he was looking forward to finding out.

That being said, he had been called to Krel’s house. By Krel. He would have not been able to stop himself from going… and his feet had already left his house for the Tarron’s residence.

Yeah, he was weak. And terrified, but he could deal with one feeling at the time.

During the entire trip his unfortunately very well-trained mind was systematically replaying his life ever since he had first met Krel, wondering what exactly the matter at hand was and if it involved something he had done – his pessimism said yes, his optimism said pessimism had a point. It turned out there was almost too much material supporting that theory into his head, between all those racist remarks from the very beginning, the numerous deadly glares because of his A+s, calling him a cheater, cheering Steve from that time he was about to punch him saying to “knock him back to wherever he came from” – if only time travel was real and he could go slap himself. Sure, after the Math Duel they had started to get along. Sure, he had made lots of effort to improve himself in order to show Krel that he was thankful for what he did. Sure, he had joined their group of friends several times at this point even engaging in a few conversations with Pepperjack – what in the world this Earth Invaders was the coolest thing ever. It was all shaded under the massive jerk he had been as a first impression though, something he was never going to be able to shake away.

When the retro style house appeared around the corner, Seamus was struck by the feeling that something was meant to happen in there, and he was in no way mentally prepared. All he was hoping for was that he could still be friends with the Cantaloupian, in order to at least pretend to dream that one day he might grow a pair and ask him out. Yet his brain was being mean. It only replayed Krel’s scowl into his mind when the Math Duel had been proposed, again and again.

Before he knew it or wanted it, he was in front of the door, sweating bullets. He didn’t want to, maybe he was still in time to back down and run at the speed of light, pretending that he had fallen asleep or that his dad had demolished his house because of an A-… which wasn’t unlikely.

Too late, force of habit had him press the doorbell. It ringed inside of his brain as well, making him realize that this was it. There was no coming back.

It had been nice having a genius as a friend.

“… hello Johnson.” A single brown eye peaked from the barely opened door, like he was checking for intruders. Krel looked so distressed, his hair was a little messy as well. “Thank you for coming with such a short notice, I know it must’ve been quite bothersome for you, especially when your father is involved.” It was wrong, so wrong, Krel wasn’t supposed to feel this unsure and diffident. He was supposed to feel confident, in control, happy. “Really… thank you.” A second thank you. No, this wasn’t only worrying anymore, this was straight up a problem. Something the blonde was apparently a part of, which didn’t help his current anxiety.

“Uhm, no worries.” Seamus was let in. It was dead quite inside, grandpa Tarron was definitely somewhere else, or he would have heard him from outside – same with Aja… and Mrs. Tarron… and Mr. Tarron, alright this family was all genetically loud. “Are we alone?” Wow, an occasion like this and he was going to be dumped, his usual luck.

No, not dumped, not… probably… hopefully.

“Varvatos is out for his usual chess game with the other geezers, Aja is currently participating to the event called ‘girls time’. As for the Bla- parents, mine, they are not… here.” He was scratching his palm, a tic Seamus had never seen on him before. “Would you like some liquids for hydration?”

That made him laugh a little. This guy was so weird it was adorable.

“Trying to be a good landlord by offering drinks, Tarron?” Krel looked at him and smiled a little, shrugging. Seamus laughed again. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Good… good.” The brunette took the deepest breath, walking towards the couch, gesturing for him to follow. The air was getting tense, something Seamus would have never wanted around the guy he liked. It seemed important he followed through though. “Johnson?” He was right next to him, but the blonde still hummed affirmatively. “There is something I need to tell you. Perhaps I should’ve addressed this right away, when we had started to get to know each other better, but it… it is not an easy thing to do for me.” Again, he was scratching the palm. “I hope you understand.”

Oh.

Oh gosh.

Oh gosh Seamus was right. Krel totally wanted to dump him… as a friend.

He knew it, he should had known right from the beginning that nothing was going to make his situation better. He had screwed up big time right away, there was no way someone as smart and cool and beautiful – alright Johnson chill – as Krel could ever want to stay close to him. He had clearly reached his limit with him, all the patience he could had given to him, now he was finally going to ask to never see him again.

Seamus clenched his fists over his knees. Dang it, he wished he was angrier about this, he wished that his usual mood would have gone out by now just to vent his frustration, the fact that he wasn’t good enough just like dad had always said.

He couldn’t. He cared about him more than that, he didn’t want to upset him even more.

“Alright, I’m all ears.” He really didn’t want to be, but for him he was going to endure.

Krel looked down, almost as he was struggling to gather his words. For someone this brilliant and with no filter whatsoever, it was really weird to see.

“Where do I start… this is something that does not have anything to do with you, I hope you know this. It is not that I do not trust you, I know you are a good person now.” Wow, really? The good old ‘it’s not you it’s me’? He might had as well kicked him in the ankles and screamed that he was never going to date jerky blondes with problematic fathers – huh, that actually ruled Steve out too –, pity was the last thing he wanted. “The matter is far more complicated than you could think… it’s… ah kleb, when Aja did this it has not looked nearly as difficult!”

Mind explosion. Seamus gaped, almost choking with air.

“Aja? Aja did something like this?” His brain was starting to melt. The Cantaloupian nodded without looking at me, as it was something normal. “With Steve?!”

“Yes, and she did not hesitate for a sekton. I wish I had her resolve right now.” Why and how and when and where and how did Aja actually break up with Steve?! There was no way, not only the Palchuk would have called him a million times to have him console his sorry butt, but such a juicy gossip not way would have not reached Mary’s ears by now – and if she knew, the entire town knew. “Perhaps this is because she never had problems finding people to hang out to, she was always very well liked, even back home.” His inside scream stopped. Krel was gloomy again. Seamus slapped himself for thinking that even now, with those big sad eyes and a rare vulnerability in him, he was really pretty. “While I do not want to risk losing the few people I have, they came almost by accident. Alas, it would not be fair to keep this from you… especially from you.” Oh. The marvel, the way his cheeks were slightly red, his eyes adorably timid.

It really was easy for someone like Seamus to be pleased. Maybe he could take it. He could take this moment, this outstanding view of a completely different Krel into his heart, to conserve after everything was to end. There was no way he wanted for him to suffer because of his mistakes, not again, and if that meant not being friends anymore, that was fine.

It wasn’t, but it could be. Maybe… hopefully.

Seamus was going to slap himself for this as well, later, but right now he couldn’t help it. He grabbed one of his hands, holding it between his with a smile.

“Ever heard about ‘few but good’?” Krel was looking at their united hands, looking baffled, shaking mindlessly his head. “Here in Arcadia you have friends, people that care about you. It doesn’t matter what came before, it’s about here and now.” He swallowed, caressing the back of his hand. “And… and even if something put a distance in between, they would still care. Trust me, you’re that likable.” He really hoped he wasn’t saying too much.

It looked enough. Everything would have been enough given that beautiful, relieved smile.

“Thank you.” Krel looked at him, straight into his eyes with those wonderful brown irises of his, lips trembling slightly. Seamus took a mental breath. This was it, it was happening. In a moment everything was going to end. He didn’t want to, he didn’t but- “The truth is… I am an alien.”

It felt like a pop. All fears and grief and acceptance he had gathered until now, growing larger and wider like a weird motivational balloon, they all exploded altogether by the aid of a single quill.

It took him a moment. A minute, a few seconds, it was hard to tell.

“… huh?” He was still holding his hand, and Krel was staring with fearful eyes. “An illegal alien?”

“No… or rather not completely, I am still a little confused by your concept of ‘legal’, the last time the term had been presented to me by Jim Lake and his friends it was not properly explained.” Somehow in his mess of a head knowing Lake and his group was involved was the only thing that made sense – weirdness happening, skinny legs definitely was in it somehow. “Anyway, I am an actual alien… although the term is quite offensive, for me and for the entire extraterrestrial population, the actual denomination would be Akiridion… but we can, uhm, we can talk about that later.” Krel sighed, his shoulders sinking. “I am truly sorry, I know I’ve kept this for a long time. Not many are aware of this, and I could not tell you until I knew I could trust you but even then-”

During his complete mind blackout, the only certainty was that this guy was speaking words to him. It was only in a brilliant moment for his highly complimented brain that Seamus Johnson managed to find his way back to this world, to realize exactly what was happening. The guy he liked was blabbering about something involving space, the situation was a ton less tense than it was before, and there was nothing threatening his relationship with the Cantaloupian.

In other words…

“Wait, so you’re not dumping me?!?” Krel widened his eyes – was that a blush again? Seamus bit his tongue. “I mean, I thought… you still wanna be friends?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

What a rational and normal question. Seamus was starting to feel really stupid now about himself.

“I don’t know! It sounded serious and I thought about all possible scenarios, the fact that I literally called you cheater only because you’re good at math and my dad was absolutely horrible to you and… I don’t know, all the rest.” The blonde pressed his lips together. “It made sense.”

“No it did not!” His hold tightened, Seamus didn’t think his heart could beat any faster. “Whatever you brain has been up to, cease this instant! You are supposed to be smart enough to measure up with me!” His face was close. They both realized it at the same time, suddenly letting go and looking in opposite directions. “I-I mean… you are one of my best friends, Johnson. Sure, you made some mistakes in the past, but you are doing your best to be a better person.” Ah, that tone was too much, Seamus had to look again. Good idea, he was smiling again. “And if it makes you feel less self-conscious, I have way more good memories of you than bad ones.”

I did help. Although this guy could had said something like “You are a mediocre math student but I have saved you so you now must show loyalty towards me” and that would have done it. Again, he was weak, and even if that would have been one massive hit to his pride, he would have bled his inferiority complex all over to have at least another moment with him.

… holy mole, maybe he liked Krel a little more than he had thought.

Seamus breathed in. Then he released a massive sigh of relief, because he liked Krel a lot, and he didn’t want to part ways. He had never wanted to, even while trying to be the mature one and accept his fate. At last, he was still here.

“My gosh Tarron, you sounded so serious in your message! I was so worried!”

“You cannot hear written messages Johnson, I fail to understand how you could’ve caught that intention into my texting.” Despite the mockery, there was a lighter tone into his voice. “I was equally concerned myself, I truly didn’t want to lose you, no matter the situation. I cannot comprehend how Aja managed with Steve so easily.” Ah, Staja was still going strong then, good for them. “I guess back then the abduction helped breaking down the news, it is hardly something you can avoid in such a situation.” Yeah, that made sense, with an abduction involved… “And with Steve almost falling to his death, Aja’s reveal was mostly a matter of chances.” Falling to his… death? “Thinking about, it was less about sister’s resolution and more a necessity… what? What is it?” Krel was giving him a confused look, only fair to an equally confused stare.

Freed from the stress of the worry, Seamus’ brain had managed to reboot, finally coming back to its senses as his crush was explaining the situation to him. About an alien abduction, about a fall from a spaceship apparently, how Aja was also a… a…

“… you’re an alien.”

Krel blinked at him.

“I thought I established that already.”

“Sorry, it’s just… it’s kinda coming to me only now, give me a moment.” He pressed his hands over his eyes, breathing in deeply, then he pulled it all out. Krel. His friend, his crush, was an alien. An actual alien. “… don’t take this the wrong way, okay? Because I trust you, I know you don’t joke around and you’re usually even too serious and literal. But this feels a little unreal, or either something you’re making up to turn my long-lasting dream of interacting with the extraterrestrial world true. Which I thank you for, but I really don’t understand why.”

He got a frown out of that, which was better than what he had expected since he knew Krel didn’t like when people didn’t believe him or listen to him. The guy – alien or, what did he say before, Akiridion? – hummed softly, looking around, then he lightened up. He took out something, a protractor by the look of it, showing it to him.

“I have very concrete proof, though it might be quite surprising. Please stay calm, okay?” Seamus nodded, not really sure what to expect. Krel pressed something over his protractor, there was a sudden light what in the- Oh. Oh. “There, this is my actual form. Well, my Akiridion form, I do not mind my human form at this point, it is almost like another side of me. This is to tell you that my appearance was simply that, the real Krel is always here, I hope this is a given for you.” He felt himself being observed. “Johnson?” He felt himself being poked a little. “I told you to remain calm, what are you doing? Is this a human reaction? Are you sick perhaps?” Not that hearing Krel worried about him wasn’t nice, but his thoughts resided elsewhere.

Like the fact that in the house of his crush, this apparition had materialized. There was a glow in front of him, pulsing blue of energy that almost made him look away. Beyond that there was a creature, taller than the one before, even more given the mane of glimmering hair raising up as without gravity. His body was dark but luminous, like space covered in stars, able to shine through despite the darkness. His eyes were blue through a black world, like far away dashing planets.

Seamus gaped, feeling like he forgot to breath for several minutes. It was ridiculous falling in love all over again, right? Right, of course. This was fine, perfectly fine, nothing to be this amazed b- Oh holy everything he had four arms, he was an al- Akiridion with four arms, screw everything his amazement was off this house’s roof and there was nothing he could have done about it.

His brained had switched off again, the little traitor. When it came back, Krel was looking at him with deep worry, something he never would have wanted for him. He needed to speak.

“… you look like a fairy.” Dang it, the traitor again, where was his filter?!

Krel blinked with those unbelievable eyes of his.

“What is a fairy?”

“Oh, huh, uhm…” Seamus swallowed, pondering if it was even a good idea and deciding that what in the world, he was talking to his friend who was a freaking extraterrestrial, rationality was officially out. “Uhm, do you have, like, legends and stories where you come from?” Krel nodded. “Well, a fairy is like a mythical creature, invented, that doesn’t exist.” Ah, he could already see the frown forming, his thoughts going somewhere like ‘I am right here you soolian’. “They are like magical beings coming from the forest… of such an ethereal beauty they cannot be real.” He almost breathed those last words, because they were almost too true all of the sudden.

The Akiridion widened his eyes, which was a sight. He was frozen, taken back, then he slowly melted into a smile. The first smile Seamus had seen of him in this form. It was as beautiful as ever, something that made him feel so lucky that Krel had trusted him enough to show him thi- Holy, freaking, mole, were his cheeks glowing? Was that an alien blush?!?

“Thank you.” Too many thank yous today, and his crush was an alien. It made sense in the fact that it didn’t make sense. “Truly, for being fine with this.”

Seamus grinned, holding his hand again. It felt a little warmer than before.

“One of my best friends is an Akiridion, how could I not? This is the dream!”

Krel beamed at him, going for the hug, making him gasp.

“You are a really good person. I knew it.” His voice was sweet. Everything felt immensely warm. The blonde was almost too overwhelmed by the fact that his crush had two arms plus to hug him to fully realize that his heart had not beat. Perhaps it was an Akiridion thing, he really wanted to know. They pulled away after a while. Krel’s cheeks were glowing again, Seamus suspected his own weren’t doing much better. “Uhm, I will take it you have some questions.” He looked away, and it was adorable to see.

“Make that some something like a thousand.” Seamus laughed a little. “Would that be okay?”

“Yes of course, you deserved to clear all the doubts you might have.” This was too good, Krel was an Akiridion, still his friend and he had another reason to spend time with him while daydreaming about his hopeless feelings. This day had been amaz- “Perhaps we could go on a less secluded place? Aja might come back soon, and I have not told her about my intention to tell you just yet, she might berate me over the fact that I did not want her to tell Steve before.” He could totally picture it. It made him snicker. “Would Sam’s be okay? Or another place maybe? Just the two of us?”

Today Seamus felt like anything other than his usual perfect student self, because his mind was struggling unbelievably. He looked up, crossing those eyes again, that embarrassed and hopeful expression of his over his brand-new appearance.

He swallowed, hoping his last brain cell wasn’t going to betray him.

“Is… is this a date?” Glowing blush at maximus.

“W-well, let’s just say that this reveal was not the only reason I wanted you to come this urgently.” He went to scratch his palm again, his glowing blue palm. “Before I could try any kind of courting ritual I wanted to be sure you were going to accept my current form… accept me, for who I really ma.” He looked at him, sending him pure shivers. “Is this okay?”

This was a dream, it had to be. That, or maybe this was the outcome, the reward at turning his back to who he used to be, in order to be a good person. Enough for an amazing person.

He was speechless. Then, faster than his insecurities, the blonde kissed the Akiridion’s forehead and hugged him again. He could feel him trembling a little, then embracing back, as much as he could. Seamus had never felt this happy before.

“Of course, it is.” He closed his eyes, grinning so much his cheeks hurt. “You’re okay.”

You’re perfect, Krel.

#space camp #toa space camp #kreamus #toa kreamus #krel x seamus #krel tarron #seamus johnson #toa #tales of arcadia #toa 3below #3below #fanfiction #fic #toa fic #toa fanfiction #space camp week

15 notes · View notes

queenk00k · 4 years

Text

but what if we were pure gold all along? jj maybank (chapter 4)

Summary: After the assumed death of their best friend, the Pogues are falling apart at the seams. With Pope and Kiara getting closer and JJ left with nowhere to go, he finds himself left to his own devices. Feeling lost and rejected, his luck seems to turn when he meets Scarlett - a Kook who doesn’t treat him like shit and has an affinity for partying. JJ gets sucked into her world as she promises to help him forget.

How much longer can he keep running from his demons? And what happens when he starts sharing a bed with one?

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, child abuse, angst, sexual content, drug use, underage drinking.

Author’s note: Hi all, this is my multi-chapter fic I’ve been working on. My oneshots & Rafe series have taken off so I thought it was time to share this one too. Let me know what you think!

Word count: 2K

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

the one where JJ makes his choice pretty clear

After two weeks of spending almost every waking minute with his new friend, JJ is starting to wonder if he’ll be able to keep up with her for much longer. Scarlett’s appetite for debauchery and disaster was insatiable and despite JJ’s best efforts to slow her down (“why don’t we just get lunch?” “why the fuck would we do that?”), she seemed intent on showing JJ a good time, Kook style.

After the initial night at Scarlett’s family mansion, where JJ climbed in her bedroom window like some sort of roughed up Edward Cullen and they drank their way through her mother’s gin collection, it had become a habit of JJ’s to seek Scarlett out at any opportunity. Not only was she the only person who seemed to want to spend time with him, something JJ was still reconciling, but God was she fun. Scarlett took quickly to riding on the back of JJ’s dirt bike, sharing a joint and even had a go at shooting JJ’s gun (a short lived adventure, since a firing mishap caused JJ to leap to the side of the yard to avoid losing a pinky toe). Scarlett was easy to spend time with, a breath of fresh air and a reprieve from the drama and darkness JJ had been experiencing when he last saw the Pogues.

Who, by the way, have still neglected to get in contact with him.

JJ has been holding onto false hope. He’s swinging between complete disbelief and hurt that his friends haven’t spoken to him in two weeks, and almost blinding rage that he apparently means so little to them. He doesn’t often have that much time to dwell on it though, since every time he’s remotely upset or quiet as a result of his former-but-the-jury’s-still-out-on-that friends, Scarlett is there to pick him right up and distract him in all the ways she knows how.

They spend most of their nights drinking on the beach or at Scarlett’s house, where her parents are never really around, since JJ swore up and down that he was never going to a Kook party with Scarlett. She had tried to convince him to no avail and gave up pretty quickly when JJ pointed out Rafe Cameron would most likely be in attendance, since he wasn’t even trying to lay low after literally murdering someone, and JJ was not going to be held liable for any injuries he may cause. So they settled for each other’s company – sharing joints that JJ taught Scarlett how to roll, stacking beer bottles, going on late night motorbike rides and in one instance, seeing how easily they could blow something up. It didn’t take much convincing for JJ to change his phone background, the cracked screen now giving way to a photo of him and Scarlett messing about on his bike.

Simply put, JJ is trying his best to forget about the whole “one of my best friends is missing and presumed dead and the others don’t even want to talk to me” situation.

Scarlett is a nice distraction.

It helps that she’s gorgeous.

JJ isn’t stupid, he knows he’s spending time with someone absolutely beautiful and at times he struggles to understand why she would want to slum it with him. He’s not immune to how soft her thigh is when it brushes against his, or how her smile always reaches her eyes where the skin around them creases as she laughs, or how cute she looks with her dark hair tied up. JJ figures she must think something of him too – he notices how her hands linger longer on his waist when he brings his bike to a halt, how she’s affectionately started calling him Jay, and he certainly hasn’t forgotten how Scarlett kissed him on the cheek as he left her house last night.

JJ is as shocked as anyone would be that he’s started hanging out with a Kook, let alone calling her his friend and admitting to himself that he finds her hot. He’d be stupid not to, he is a sixteen-year-old guy after all, and she’s a stunning rich girl with a pert ass and deep brown eyes. He’s only human.

A knock on the front door of the Chateau brings JJ out of his reverie and he swings his legs around to hop off the couch where he’s been lying for the last three hours. After another late night at Scarlett’s the evening before, JJ somehow made his way home to crash on the couch to get some sleep before Scarlett was due to come over.

JJ runs his hand through his messy blonde hair and pads over to the door, yawning widely as he pulls it open. Scarlett is standing on the porch steps, dressed in her usual sundress and holding two six packs.

She lifts both arms up in excitement as she says “Jay! Long time no see!”

JJ shakes his head and smiles softly to himself, stepping aside to let Scarlett walk in the front door. She twirls dramatically as she crosses the threshold and makes a direct beeline for the fridge, bottles clanking as she shoves them onto the shelf.

JJ follows her and leans against the kitchen doorframe, accepting a bottle of beer and popping the cap off with his sharp incisor.

“Welcome back, Scarlett. It’s only been, what, ten hours since we last saw each other?”

Scarlett rolls her eyes. “What, you got something better to do?”

JJ laughs hoarsely as he replies, “you know the answer to that.”

Scarlett bumps her hip into his as she squeezes through to doorway and winks at him. “I need to sit down,” she says. “I’m beat.”

JJ adjust the front of his shorts and grimaces. It appears he needed to relax too.

He makes his way to the living room with a half full beer bottle, the condensation coating his fingers and making the neck of the bottle slippery. JJ notices Scarlett has already downed one drink and is making some good headway on her second, before he decides to tilt the bottle down and away from her lips.

Scarlett glares at him and purses said lips, and JJ fights the urge to stare at them, forcing his eyes to remain locked on hers.

“What did you do that for?” She asks, looking grumpy.

JJ thinks she looks cute.

He shrugs. “Maybe you could slow down. It’s 3pm,” he replies.

“Hair of the dog,” Scarlett says as she completely defies JJ’s suggestion and finishes her second bottle, letting out a small burp as she does.

“Oops,” she giggles.

JJ sighs but he’s not mad, not really, and he lets Scarlett know by patting her on the knee, resting his hand there for slightly longer than necessary.

“Drink up wuss,” Scarlett says, winking at him and JJ would be stupid not to do what she says, so he downs his beer too and cracks open another one.

Scarlett is scrolling through her Spotify and trying to get it Bluetooth connected to the old speakers next to the couch (JJ has told her before that it won’t work but she’s stubborn, alright, and insists on trying), and JJ is sat in quiet contemplation on the couch when a sharp knock on the door reverberates through the room.

Scarlett’s head snaps up, her top bun bobbing as she turns towards JJ, eyes wide.

“Who’s that?” She asks. They weren’t expecting any guests.

“Shit,” says JJ, standing up and placing his beer on the floor. “It’s probably my Dad. Fuck.”

“Your dad? What is he doing here?”

JJ shakes his head and presses a finger to his lips. “Stay here, do not come out under any circumstances, you understand? I’ll talk to him for a bit and then hopefully he’ll fuck off, but if anything happens, just go out the back door okay?”

Scarlett narrows her eyes in confusion. “And just leave you here? No way.”

Another series of sharp knocks, this time more urgent.

“Scarlett, I don’t have time to argue. Just tell me you’ll get out of here, okay?”

Scarlett looks like she has the time to argue but nods anyway. “Okay.”

JJ steels himself and sets his jaw as he cautiously walks down the hallway and opens the front door.

It’s Kiara and Pope.

JJ blinks slowly. “What are you doing here?” He says abruptly, skipping the pleasantries.

Kiara looks at him, bemused. “No ‘hey Kie, nice to see you?’”

JJ scoffs. “No offence, Kiara, but I’m not too sure you deserve that right now.”

Kiara opens her mouth to respond, ever the hot-headed one, when Pope has the right idea to butt in.

“We missed you man; can we talk?” He says, fiddling with his cap.

JJ steps out onto the porch, leaving the door slightly ajar. “Yeah, we can talk. Where the fuck have you been?”

“It’s complicated-”

“-I couldn’t see you-”

“-it’s been really hard for us-”

JJ has to laugh at that one, and he turns to Kiara, eyes ablaze with fury. “It’s been really hard for you? Are you fucking kidding me? YOU LEFT ME! ALONE!”

Kiara steps back from JJ, as if she’s scared, and Pope brings his hand to the small of her back to comfort her.

“Come on man, there’s no need-”

“Where were you, Kiara? Why didn’t you talk to me?”

Kiara’s dark eyes fill with tears and her chin starts to wobble. “JJ, you know my parents, they had me on lockdown-”

JJ can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You could see Pope.”

“He’s my boyfriend JJ, and you’ve always known what my parents think-”

Pope has the good grace to stay quiet and let them at it.

“So what the fuck am I then? Huh?”

JJ wouldn’t have noticed Scarlett sneaking up behind him if it weren’t for the sudden hardened look in Kiara’s eyes.

JJ spins around, jaw clenched, as Scarlett asks, “What’s going on here?”

Kiara’s mouth drops open. “A Kook, JJ? Seriously? You’re fucking a Kook?”

JJ’s mouth opens and closes as he struggles to reply. “I-we’re not, we’re friends-we aren’t-”

“This is unbelievable,” Kiara spits. “I thought better of you JJ.”

Scarlett stares Kiara down, folding her arms across her chest.

“She was here for me, Kiara! You weren’t! You were NOWHERE TO BE FOUND! Some fucking friend you are!” JJ shouts.

Kiara looks like she wants to stay more but she decides against it as she simply mutters “unbelievable,” and throws her hands up, walking away.

JJ’s chest heaves and heart pounds with adrenaline as Pope looks at him apologetically.

“Man, I’m sorry, I have to go too, she’s my girlfriend-”

JJ cuts him off. “Whatever man; just leave. You’re good at that anyways.”

Pope looks hurt but simply nods at JJ and turns to run after Kiara as she stalks down the driveway, long cardigan flowing behind her.

Scarlett sighs and places her hand delicately on JJ’s shoulder, and it takes everything in him not to lean into her touch.

“Drink?” She says.

message me to be added to my taglist!

@letsgofullkook @stargazingstarkey @harrysbbby @socialwriter @thatjohnd @ssjiara @jjsmentalpolaroids @bailspogue @jjtheangel @rafecameron @obx-direction-sos @pixelated-pogues @jjmbanks @ims0golden @obbx-tings @drewstarkey @teenwaywardasgardian @tembo-ndoto @prejudic3 @starkeymarkey @snkkat @drewxxrudy @pogue-writings @pookie-cleary @jjmaybcnks @shawnssongs @obxjj @drewswannabegirl @curlybrownhairedboys @the-moon-looks-old-and-gray @peach97 @k-k0129 @broken-jj @annedub @starlightstarkey @starrystarkey93 @jiaraendgame @sarahcxmeron @overly-b @erraaxh @pink-meringues @rollinsstuff @microwaved-timmies @iamaunicorn4704 @a-golden-sunflower-vol-6 @ptersparkers @jjmaybankx @sortagaysortahigh @honeyycheek @downbytheouterbanks @milamaybank @dpaccione @hbooth0411 @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @moldisgoodforyou @surfalldaybaby @outrbanks @outerbongs @saphira1412 @sweetlysilent

90 notes · View notes

maybebanks · 4 years

Text

Like You Need Another Reason to Get Arrested

PART 6

JJ x reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

warning: fighting, swearing

You got closer with Sarah over the course of the day. Which was why it was hard to tell her that her dad was a murder, and that he would kill you just to cover it up.

“So what do I do, now? I can’t go home? Right?” She asks.

“You have to, he can’t be suspicious,” you admit.

She nods, she loved her father. But she knew you were telling the truth.

“So now what? I just have to go with Topper? Ugh,” she groans.

“Kie told me she’s going, all you have to do is just walk in with your family. Just tell Topper that your dad wants you,” you decide.

She nods, “but you did look stunning in that dress,” she mutters.

“Why don’t you wear it. It will be like I’m wearing it too,” you smile, her face lights up in response, and she quickly purchases it.

—

Back at the chateau, John B was showing you your new room, you were glad, now you wouldn’t have to wake up on top of JJ again.

Today, it marks a week of being with the pogues and away from home.

You looked at your phone, at all the texts and calls you’ve been ignoring.

30 missed calls, 20 texts

You sigh, 19 of the texts were from Nate, your boyfriend. 1 was from your dad.

You and your father had a complicated relationship, your father liked to leave you alone, off on a casino business trip, or just away from you. That’s why you were left to Big John a lot, your mother wasn’t in the picture much either after you were 12.

Miss you honey. Glad you took my advice. -Dad

The text made you shiver, it was your father’s fault that those men shot at your house. You immediately felt angry. Sure he was hardly there for you before, but now? You needed a father.

You ignore the immediate reaction of slamming your phone on the ground, not wanting to make a scene.

Then you checked the other texts.

Where are you?

You’ve been gone too long

Tell me where you went

This isn’t funny

Are you cheating on me?

Your mad at me? God I’m going to kill you

Text me back

Stop being such a bitch

Fucking whore

Your mouth went dry at the last few text. Sure Nate got angry a lot, but he never scared you like this. Understandably, you left town a few days after Nate was cleared from the hospital. With no explanation or telling him where you were going, just that you had to go OT.

“Fuck me,” you mutter, not allowing any tears to escape.

Thankfully, John B was having a dramatic talk with Sarah and Pope. And JJ and Kie were laughing together.

“What’s up, Y/n?” JJ asks with a smile. He was cute.

“Um. Nothing. I just missed a lot at home,” you say, eager to leave the room before he questions anymore.

“Come play hackey sack. Not gonna lie I’m a pro,” he brags, expecting a laugh.

You send him a small smile, you wanted to laugh, but your stomach was tight from anxiety about Nate.

JJ notices and his expression turns serious.

“You know you can’t go back there, right?” He says.

You nod, “yeah. I’m going to talk to John B,” you say bumping into the door by accident.

Kie laughs.

You fake a laugh and then start out the door.

“Hey! You dropped this,” JJ saying reaching to pick up your phone.

“Oh! I can get it,” you say, uneasy when you see JJ has already picked it up.

You watch his eyes glance at your phone, open to your texts with Nate.

Reaching over, you pull it out of JJ’s hands, but not before he has read one.

Before he can say anything you rush out the door. He looks at you in a concerned way. Exchanging a look with Kie as she shrugged.

You knew JJ was probably getting all sorts of ideas, but Nate was good to you. You loved him.

For some reason, you couldn’t force yourself to ignore the lingering feelings you had for JJ. Wait. There’s no way your falling for-

—

“So uh..JB, what can you tell me about this Nate guy?” JJ asks casually. He timed it right. You left to go to the bathroom while you all roasted marshmallow by a fire.

“Y/n’s boyfriend?” John B questions.

“Yeah, him,” JJ answers, with his mouth full.

“He’s alright. Why do you care?” John B chuckles.

“JJ and Y/n sittin in a tree, K-I-S-S-“ Pope starts but JJ cuts him off.

“No bro, he just seems like a dick,” JJ shrugs.

“How would you know?” Kie says.

“He texted her, I don’t know just seems scetchy,” JJ concludes.

“Well if you are worried, just ask her yourself,” Pope says, as you approach the bonfire from your bathroom break with Sarah.

“I’m ready for s’mores!” Sarah cheers, sitting next to John B, wrapper their arms around eachother.

You suddenly felt awkward, but brushed it off when JJ waved you over and you sat next to him.

“No one brought s’mores, Sarah,”

“I did! In my car,” she says, groaning as if she didn’t want to leave John B’s comfort.

“I’ll get it. Front seat?” You ask where the s’mores are. Standing up.

“Yeah there in the passenger seat,” she answers, still snuggling with John B.

“Okay,” you say, getting up and heading over to her car. It was significantly colder away from the fire, but you ignored your shivers.

JJ was about to go with you, but Kie asked him to roll a blunt, he couldn’t say no.

Alone, you walk towards the car. Sarah was parked the farthest.

Gripping the car door, you pull against it to open and your eyes catch the drug store plastic bag.

“Yes!” You exclaim.

Suddenly, you hear the clicking of a gun near your ear. Immediately you freeze in fear. You mouth wired shut. You hands slowly rise up to show your innocence.

“Good, you know what that is. Now all you have to do is give me what I want, and I’ll let you live,” a male voice seethes, you couldn’t recognize it.

He turned you around slowly to face him, it was someone you didn’t know. He had longer brown hair tied into a man bun, gold teeth, and a black durag.

Your lip quivers, “what do you want... with me?” You ask, truly guns terrified you, all it would take to end it all is one push.

“Your boys took something from me...and maybe pretty girl, I’ll take something from you,” he said sickly.

“P-please...I can get you money,” you offer, this angers him.

“Shut up!” He yells, “get on your knees,” he demands.

Still frozen you look at him, eyes watering, pleading for mercy.

“Get on ...your.. knees!” He demands, then sends a punch into your gut. You whimper, and double over. At this, he kicks you over with his knee and you collide with the pebbles ground.

“Get up!” He damands, standing over you. You push yourself up with your arms, but as soon as you do, he kicks you down again.

“C’mon bitch. I don’t have all fuckin day,” he groans.

“Well then stop kicking me down,” you mumble, you weren’t one to let people push you over. But you regret it as soon as you see the look on his face.

“Ah so bitch has a mouth! Maybe you gotta suck me off? That should shut you up!” He says, grabbing you by your neck, chocking you.

“I-I...” you struggle.

He pushes you up against Sarah’s car, you hanging onto your last breath.

Not a moment too soon, his grip loosens completely. Following, his entire body collapses on to the ground.

You hold your throat in shock, as a figure begins to beat the man up, tears blur your vision.

You are about to collapse when the figure approaches you, you tense and prepare to hold your ground until your unattended blinking clears up your eyes.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” JJ says sweetly.

He pulls your shaking body closer to him and you sink into his chest.

After a few minutes of his comfort, John B, Pope and Kie all come around the car from the fire, seeing the man who attacked you knocked out on the floor.

“Barry?” Pope says, John B nods.

“What did he do?” JJ whispered.

You didn’t say anything, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t want to admit to the sickening truth.

You hugged JJ, tighter.

Kie was biting her nails, they all noticed you were pretty banged up.

“I’ll leave Barry on some street and call the cops,” Pope says, him and Kie go together. Putting Barry’s body into the trunk.

“Is he...is he going to...is he dead?” You finally muster a voice.

JJ sighs in relief to hear your voice, he looks down at you, you’re still clinging to his shirt tightly.

“He’s going to be fine. I got him pretty good, but he’s not dead,” JJ chuckles to lighten the mood.

You look him directly in his light blue eyes, “thank you, you saved my life,”

“Anytime,” he smiles.

You wipe some blood off his cheek gently.

You bite your lip nervously, seeing that he hit JJ.

“He got you,” you state, being gentle with him.

He holds your wrist gently, moving it away from his face, “I’m not the one who needs help,” JJ says.

“C’mon, I’ll patch you up inside. You can tell me what he said, why he attacked you,”

“No.”

“Huh?” JJ asks, his eyebrows knit in confusion.

“Um...I just need...I need to be alone,” you lie. You wanted someone, you wanted JJ. You wanted him to protect you, you felt safe around him, but then again there were other things you felt too. Things that scared you, that you weren’t meant to feel.

“Okay, sure. But I’ll walk to back,” he says, but it sounds like a question.

You nod. But ask soon as you take a step, your leg gives out, and a burning bruise like pain erupts in your side.

“Ah,” you moan, “ow, fuck,”

“What’s wrong?” JJ asks.

You slowly lift up your loose pants, revealing a giant bruise forming.

“Jesus,” JJ says.

“It’s fine, I can walk,” you say quickly. You being to limp past him until suddenly, you feel his arms wrap around your waist and under your butt as he lifts you off the ground.

“Stop being so tough all the time, I got you,” he says as he continues to carry you bridal style.

You scoff, but smile, a nervous feeling twirling in your stomach.

You brushed a piece of his blond hair out of his forehead and he chuckled.

“Let me take care of you.”

—

“That guy...his name was Barry. He’s a drug dealer, and he’s mad at Sarah’s brother Rafe, so John B and I beat Rafe up and since Rafe is a complete pussy, I guess something went down and he lost cash so now he’s mad. I’m sorry he took it out on you.

Your eyes widened at his complicated story, but you shrugged it off.

“What did he say to you? Any threats?” John B asked, you were all sitting in the kitchen. You on the counter, and JJ patching up cuts on your leg.

“Can you take off your shirt?” JJ asks, his cheeks were tainted red, you mirrored his.

“Um yeah,” you say slowly, there was a bruise on your rib and many cuts from hitting the pavement.

He helped you slide your shirt over your head. You feeling nervous and self conscious about being in a bra in front of him.

He did his best to look away, rubbing your wounds with alcohol.

You winced at his touch.

“Sorry,”

John B was explaining to Sarah what happened in another room.

You squeezed JJ’s shoulder at the pain.

“Almost done,” he chuckles.

“Y/n?” John B says coming over to you both. You cover your chest even more. JJ chuckles and throws your shirt at you.

You quickly put it on and John B gives you a weird look, “Y/n, what did Barry say to you?”

“John B-“ you start but he cuts you off.

“No! Y/n, tell me. I know Barry, he threatenes people, he would have-“ John B starts.

“Nothing! He said nothing!” You express.

John B groans and walks out of the room.

A subtle tear escapes you eye, you rub it quickly. But that doesn’t stop JJ from notices.

“You know, you can tell me. I won’t tell John B if you don’t want me to,” JJ whispers, his voice was soft and kind.

“You promise?” you say shakily. He could tell you were worried.

“Yeah,” he says.

“He said you guys stole something from him. So he was going to steal from me.” you reply

JJ slams his hand on the table, you flinch in response, “so this is my fault. Shit. I’m so sorry Y/n,” JJ says, a look saying that he hates himself.

“No, it’s okay, I’m okay,” you try and reassure.

Instantly he steps closer to you and pulls up the edge of your shirt, revealing your stomach.

“JJ!”

“You think this is okay?!” He points to your injuries.

“He didn’t get me. He didn’t get me,” you repeat, tears suddenly spilling out like a waterfall.

“What are you talking about?” JJs voice is almost a whisper, he felt utterly confused.

“He...he said he would. But he didn’t! He didn’t get me,” you mutter.

“He said he would what? What are you not telling me, Y/n?”

You could only look away, feeling terrified and disgusted.

“Y/n?”

“He said he would make me suck him off,” you admit.

“Oh God,” JJ, says, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck, “I’m gonna kill that bastard,” JJ says.

“You kinda already did,” you joke.

PART 7

taglist: @dolanfivsosxox @loco-latte @treestarrrrrrrr @nikki082489

#jj maybank #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #jj imagine jjxreader obx #obx jj maybank x you #outer banks #outerbanks #obx jj #jj outer banks #john b cousin #johnb obx #johnbroutledge #rudy pankow #outerbanks fanfic #y/n outerbanks #jj maybank x y/n #obxedit #outerbanks netflix

98 notes · View notes

theentiregdtime · 5 years

Text

ready when you are.

“It went okay! I mean, it wasn’t great… Plus, our rating is totally trashed on AirBNB. We’re gonna have to set up a different account- you know, for next time.”

Dennis swallows the swig of warm vanilla coffee in his mouth and sets the mug down on the counter. His eyes dart up to focus on Mac, standing on the other side of the kitchen, struggling to work his fingers around the delicate buttons of his denim shirt.

He can’t remember the last time he saw Mac wearing an actual shirt- with actual buttons- but it’s a good look on him.

Yeah… Mac’s a good-looking guy.

Dennis lets those sorts of thoughts cross his mind now, because the hole in the bottom of his stomach is full. It’s full of the things he’s buried and repressed and denied for the past forty years of his life, and there’s no more room down there. Trying to ignore those feelings about Mac is like stuffing a pile of laundry into an overpacked suitcase, and Dennis is so tired of balling everything up and sitting on top of it and fighting with the zipper.

He’s not fighting anymore. He’s starting to let go of things he imprisoned a long, long time ago. He starting to set them free.

It doesn’t feel as bad as he thought it would. Sometimes it’s better to look at the monster in the corner of the room dead-on. Sometimes it turns out to just be a shadow- the light playing tricks on you.

Dennis sees the light now, and it’s not nearly as scary as he expected.

“Next time?” he asks; he doesn’t want there to be a next time.

“Yeah, next time. I’m not giving up on you, dude,” Mac swears as he secures the last button. When his promising eyes glance up at Dennis, they’re so big and brown that he can see his face in them, and he wants to keep seeing himself like that- as a reflection of Mac- but he can only do that if they always stay this close. “You know, you could try a little harder to make people fall in love with you.”

But what if they didn’t try?

What if they stopped searching in all the wrong places? What if they stopped searching at all?

Dennis likes how he looks in Mac’s eyes, and he knows that he doesn’t need to search anymore, because he’s found himself right there and he thinks he could see himself there for the rest of his life.

“I am,” he answers softly. It isn’t a lie.

What if they did give up- not on each other, but on everything else in the world? What if they said fuck it to what people think of them? What if they never even left the apartment again, because everything they need is right here- coffee and red wine and warm blankets and each other’s clothes? What if they wasted the rest of their days playing board games and watching movies and dancing to the radio and getting hammered, until they end up on the floor, soft-touching and slow-kissing and laughing, because nothing so complicated ever seemed so simple?

Suddenly, after twenty-five years, it’s clear to Dennis how ridiculous it is that they’ve done all the hard parts of a relationship without the easy ones.

They’ve fought and fallen apart, moved out and moved back in, cleaned up after each other and taken care of one another. Mac’s kneaded circles into his head when it hurt and rubbed at his back when he threw up into the toilet and carried him to bed when he passed out on the couch. Dennis has washed the blood off of Mac’s hands when he did something reckless and ran his laundry through the drier when he was cold and pulled him back to reality when he woke up in the middle of an anxiety attack.

They’ve seen the worst of each other: the ugliest, most disgusting parts; the parts no one else could possibly love- seen each other bare, vulnerable, weak, raging, and scared- and they’ve stayed.

So why not finally let themselves enjoy the good stuff? Why not kiss and fuck and sleep wrapped around one another? Why not shower together and touch each other’s bare skin and let the water wash away the paper-thin walls between them? Why not do the easy shit if they’ve already fought for it, if they fight for it every day?

After all, Dennis doesn’t think he could do much better than Mac. He doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone better than Mac. He tries to imagine it, what they would look like and the way they would act and how the two of them would fit together, and he can’t.

“-and I don’t know if there’s, like, a box you can check for singles only, but if not, we can just message some people and feel it out, you know-”

“Mac,” Dennis stops him. He hasn’t really been listening, but he understands the sentiment well enough.

Mac’s attention is on him all at once.

There’s something about him nowadays- not his chiseled jaw or his broad shoulders or his washboard abs... Sure, those things certainly don’t hurt, but that’s not what makes him glow.

It’s how gently he’s settled into himself, like he’s getting too old to be uncomfortable with who he is, so he’s stared down all his demons and made peace with them. It’s in the warmth of his eyes and the curve of his lips when he smiles, and there’s something about the way he looks at Dennis that makes him wonder if maybe he could be like that, too- like maybe he’s beautiful in Mac’s eyes.

He doesn’t know why he was so afraid of that before. It’s not such a bad feeling after all.

“Look, just… let it go.” He crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs his shoulders. “Why are you suddenly so obsessed with setting me up, anyways?”

Mac laughs like it’s obvious.

“’Cause I want you to be happy, man.”

Huh.

It’s crazy… but he is.

For the first time in a long time, he is.

Maybe not all the way, not all the time, but he’s content. He’s comfortable. There’s no sense in trying to change a good thing, just because they feel they’re supposed to. They don’t have to concoct schemes in the hopes of finding the perfect domestic picture-frame family. They can keep living like this as long as they want- and maybe it won’t be normal, and maybe society’s not ready for it, but it’ll be Mac and Dennis and nothing else in the entire world sounds better than that.

“Do I seem unhappy?” Dennis prods, trying to keep his voice from getting too defensive. He doesn’t want to turn this into an argument- not when Mac is doing something so selfless, not when he’s trying his best. He doesn’t want to act like that anymore simply because he’s too chicken-shit to be kind and attached and codependent.

“Not, like, all the time, but… Don’t you want to spend your life with someone?”

It’s a stupid question.

He already is. All he’s ever wanted is here.

Dennis stares at Mac for a long time, waiting patiently for a response. He wishes Mac could see right through him; it would make this so much simpler. He wishes Mac would laugh and wink at him and grin and say You want me, don’t you?

Maybe that wasn’t what he needed before, but it’s what he needs now. He’s finally ready to let himself need it.

“Yes,” is all he whispers back.

For a couple of seconds, nearly gone before Dennis can recognize it, he thinks he sees a wave of clarity glaze over Mac’s eyes like they’re getting the picture. If only his hands and his lips would do the same- but they don’t. He just stands there, balanced against the counter, rolling his teeth over his mouth, standing much too far away.

It’s selfish of Dennis to ask for these things- for Mac to slip his arms around him, to crush his lips against his and kiss him until his lungs buckle, to press him into the wall and tell him he doesn’t need anything else, doesn’t even want it, because they’re a good thing just the way they are. It’s selfish of him, because he so bluntly told Mac not to, and now he’s being all respectful and minding his boundaries and moving on, and Dennis can’t take it anymore.

He doesn’t want him to move on. He doesn’t want him to move anywhere. He wants him to stay right here where he’s always been- where he belongs.

“Me too,” Mac mumbles in reply.

A fire can only burn quietly for so long before something’s engulfed. A bubble can only hold so much air before it bursts. A barrier can only stand so much weight until it breaks. And they’re about to break, they’re about to burst, they’re about to burn. They can’t go on much longer like this. Eventually, something is going to have to explode.

He thinks Mac wants that, too- at least, he hopes he still does. Dennis doesn’t want him to move on. He can’t move on.

Mac is his best friend, his roommate, his blood brother, his partner in crime, his guy, his everything. Mac is his and he’s Mac’s and they belong to each other. They always have, no matter how difficult it’s gotten and no matter how far they’ve roamed, because you can only run for so long before you come back home to the things you love.

Dennis is home again. And it’s time to stop running.

He bites his lip and takes a step closer, running his fingers along the counter, moving towards Mac more sure of anything than he’s been in his entire life- because fuck it, there’s no fight left in him. His hands are tired of gripping the cliff and he’s ready to fall, and he wants Mac to fall with him.

Mac does, for a moment. He leans forward and ducks his head down and reaches out, and this is happening, this is going to happen, because it hasn’t happened for twenty-five years and Dennis is so fucking tired of waiting.

He’s only just shut his eyes when loud, jarring techno music startles him. He and Mac jump apart like they’ve been caught in the act, and Mac fumbles for his phone to turn the ringer off.

Afterwards, they’re silent, breathing a little harder than normal, still in a daze. No two people in history have ever been so afraid of an alarm.

“I guess we better go,” Mac sighs, pointing his thumb in the direction of the door.

When he starts to walk away, Dennis reaches out to stop him.

“Wait,” he says as his hand clasps onto Mac’s shoulder. “Just- one more thing.”

Mac turns around and looks at him like he could do anything- like one more thing could mean whatever he wants it to and he’d trust Dennis to make it feel good, to make it feel safe- like he’s never blindly trusted love before but he’d do anything if it was in Dennis’ arms.

He doesn’t take advantage of that.

Instead, he winds gentle fingers around Mac’s neck to adjust the collar of his shirt until it’s straight. He tucks the tag underneath the fabric with his thumb, but doesn’t pull back right away. His hands linger and their bodies stay close together, not touching, but so close.

And there’s this moment… this moment where he swears they both see this for what it is. There’s a moment where the veil is lifted and the expression on Mac’s face is telling him he can be his if he wants to, and that he doesn’t have to keep looking for something he’s already found, something he found when he was young and something he’s always kept, something he’s had close to his heart every day but held too tightly to see it for what it really was all along.

Dennis thinks he’s probably looking at Mac the same way.

But there’s no movie moment- there’s no impassioned kiss or tender embrace or cloying one-liner. That’s not how it is with them. They aren’t the kind of couple you see on a screen. Hell, they aren’t even the kind you see on the street. And they certainly aren’t a romantic comedy.

But they aren’t a tragedy, either. It’s taken Dennis a few years too long to realize that. They aren’t doomed or star-crossed or destined to be apart by some cruel twist of fate. They’re right here, standing at the threshold of their apartment- the apartment where they’ve shared the last two decades of their life and counting, the apartment where they talk for hours and have dinner on the sofa and sleep in the same bed, the apartment where they spend nearly every waking minute together, where everything is softer and easier, where the world’s a safer place, where they’ve lived so much like a couple for so long that it’s impossible to tell they aren’t from the outside.

“You, uh... ready to go?”

They’re so close. There’s just one more step, one last leg of the race, one final twist in the tunnel- and they’re almost at the end. And maybe they are something like a movie, because it feels like there’s going to be a culmination to this story any day now, any minute, because they’ve spent so long with it paused, pretending they could stay there- in that safe space- forever, pretending there wasn’t a finale at all. But there is and it's about time they let it play.

No point in starting a movie without finishing it, right?

And Dennis doesn’t think the ending is going to be as scary as he always pictured. Because this isn’t a horror film. It’s a love story in a lot of ways, and what’s so bad about the possibility of being gazed at like you’re young and beautiful and being wrapped up in strong arms like you’re never going to have to fall alone again and being kissed like some things are more important than breathing?

He wasn’t ready for that before, but he thinks he’s ready now; in fact, he’s sure of it. Because what is his ending, if it isn’t Mac? What was it that he always thought would be so much better than him? Than living like this forever, as long as he’s here?

Women? Casual sex? A bachelor pad where he could be alone for once and only care for himself and do whatever he wanted all the time, where there’d be no one to argue with, to fight with, to fuck it up with over and over and over again?

It sounds pretty goddamn awful.

They’re going to keep messing it up in their own special, shitty, dysfunctional way- and hey, maybe they’re never going to be all smiles and sweetness and perfect chemistry like other couples are.

But maybe that’s okay. Because those people grow out of phases. They change and they get old and suddenly they’re bitter and tired of one another, suddenly they’ve lost something they used to have when they were young.

And Mac and Dennis might be real pieces of shit to each other, but they’ve never lost anything.

It’s been twenty-five years and Dennis is still Mac’s leading man.

And that’s a lot better than most people have.

He just has to wait for Mac to sweep him off his feet. Maybe it won’t be this morning, maybe it won’t be today, maybe it won’t be this week- but it’s going to be soon. Dennis can feel it in the air. He can sense it all around him. It’s here, and it’s warm and promising and forgiving. It feels like the start of the rest of his life. It feels less like the end and more like the first page.

Mac and Dennis are a love story their whole lives in the making, and somehow, this is only the beginning.

And Dennis has a feeling it’s going to be a pretty good story.

He doesn’t say all of that, though, because it isn’t quite time for it. They’re not in the final act just yet.

But they’re right on schedule.

Instead, he pats Mac on the shoulder, and gives him his best leading-man smile.

“Ready when you are.”

#just a lil short n sweet thing #dennis is so in love it's radiating from him like warmth from a candle bro i can't take it #it's always sunny in philadelphia #it's always sunny #iasip #iasip s14 #s14 spoilers #the gang gets romantic #dennis reynolds #mac mcdonald #macdennis #fics #my writing

300 notes · View notes

dimensiontripperhibiki · 4 years

Text

The End is Where We Begin (2/?)

Thanks so much for all of the likes/comments/reblogs etc. They really mean a lot and definitely encourage me to keep writing. I couldn’t wait to get started on this chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

“Kara, can you check on the pizza?!” “Sure!” Kara jumped up from the couch and jogged into the kitchen to check the pizza. She opened the oven, narrowing her eyes at the gently browning pizza. “Seems okay!” She shut the oven door and began to walk back to the couch, intending to continue to flick through the channels. She paused though, at the sound of a knock at the door. She walked toward it and opened it. Her stomach did a peculiar flip when she found Lena standing there. “Lena. Um...hi.” “Kara,” Lena replied in greeting as she glanced briefly past Kara. Kara swallowed convulsively as she stepped out of the way to let Lena pass her. “Come in. I-I didn’t expect to see you.” “Why would you?” Lena replied. She stopped a few feet into the apartment, sniffing the air. “You’re cooking? Since when can you cook?” Kara gave a nervous laugh and shut the door. “Hey, I can cook just fine!” Lena smirked at the response. “I don’t recall any of your culinary ventures ever being successful.”

“Well I-I…” Kara spluttered for a moment before she reluctantly admitted defeat. “That’s fair. But why cook when you can just order takeout? It’s so much faster.” “I could give you an entire list of reasons. Not that you would listen.” Kara smiled warmly at Lena, forgetting to reply for a moment. She had missed this. Just being able to talk to Lena like this. “Kara, the pizza!” “Huh?” Kara’s attention was drawn away at the sound of Alex’s voice and she watched her sister hurry from the bedroom to the kitchen. “Oh no. It was fine five minutes ago!” She grimaced, watching as Alex opened the oven and frantically fanned the smoke away with a towel. “Guess we’re ordering takeout?” Lena pressed a hand to her mouth, disguising a laugh as a cough. Unfortunately, that cough was enough to draw Alex’s attention toward her. “Oh. I didn’t know we had company.” Alex straightened up, fumbling behind her back to turn the oven off. She was clearly as surprised to see Lena as Kara was, albeit more suspicious at the same time. “Is everything okay?” “Everything is fine,” Lena answered, turning her attention back to Kara. “I actually wanted to ask you some questions about our discussion the other day. About the antimatter. I have some ideas but I need to…” “Ah!” Kara threw her arms up, effectively shocking Lena into silence. Her gaze flicked to Alex and she noticed her sister’s brow furrowing. “That? That was nothing.” Lena frowned. “It sounded like something when you barged into my office.” “That was just…reporter stuff, you know? Nothing at all to worry about. Come on, Lena. I’ll show you out.” Kara took hold of Lena’s elbow and escorted her to the door, trying to ignore the way Alex was staring at her. “I’ll be right back, Alex!” Lena pulled away from Kara’s grip as soon as they were outside of the apartment. “What the hell?” “I’m sorry!” Kara whisper yelled. She glanced at the door, worried that Alex might be listening. “Come with me. Please.” She walked past Lena and walked down the hallway, only stopping when she was a safe distance away from the door. She breathed a sigh of relief when she turned to see that Lena had followed her. “Kara, what’s going on?” “Alex doesn’t know anything about what I asked you.” Kara’s gaze kept flicking over to the door, checking to make sure they were still alone. “And I want to keep it that way right now. I want to keep this between the two of us.” Lena stared at Kara for a long moment before she let out a soft, bitter laugh. “A secret between the two of us? That’s a foreign concept.” “Lena, please.” Kara pleaded, her voice audibly trembling. “She can’t know anything about this yet. It’s complicated. But I really do need you to keep it a secret.” “And if I give you my word that I won’t tell anyone you’re just going to believe me?” Lena raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You trust me with this...secret?” “Of course I trust you,” Kara answered sincerely. She stepped closer to Lena, almost reaching out before she thought better of it. She let her hand drop to her side. “I’m not going to lie to you. You know I’m not telling you everything about what’s happening. But I promise I will. When it’s time.” Lena let out a breath, her gaze flicking to the side. “Come to my office tomorrow. I need to speak with you and clearly now isn’t a good time.” “Right. I will.” Kara tried to quell the hope that bloomed in her chest, to no avail. “Thank you, Lena.” “I haven’t done anything yet.” Lena pointed out, her lips turning up slightly before she walked past Kara, toward the door. “Don’t be late!” “I won’t!” Kara called after Lena. She watched Lena leave before she headed back inside, her elation at the invitation to Lena’s office causing her to completely forget about what had happened a few minutes ago in the apartment. Upon entering her apartment she found Alex waiting for her, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Kara’s smile slipped away. “Okay, you’re mad.” “I’m definitely confused,” Alex admitted, staring hard at her sister. “What was all that about?” “Uh…” Kara hesitated at the question. She’d never been very good at lying to Alex. “Just something I wanted to work on with Lena. I figured maybe if she helps me look into this...thing for CatCo, maybe it would give us a chance to bond again and maybe she would see I really didn’t mean to hurt her.” Alex’s brow furrowed and for a moment Kara thought that her sister wasn’t going to believe her. Finally, Alex’s posture relaxed. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t want her to take advantage of you again.” She quickly continued, seeing Kara open her mouth to protest. “I know! I know she has every right to be angry with you but I can still be pissed at her for hurting you. You’re my sister. I’d be furious with anyone for hurting you.” Kara breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that Alex had believed her at least. She wasn’t exactly lying. She did want to rebuild the closeness she’d once had with Lena, she just wasn’t being completely honest with her sister. “I know. Thanks, Alex.” “The pizza is a lost cause by the way,” Alex commented as she turned and made her way back to the kitchen. “We’re going to have to order takeout again. I’ll set the movie up while you do that because you’re definitely paying this time. And I’m demanding a hunger games marathon tonight.” Kara pouted at the demand that she pay for the food but she was quickly distracted by Alex’s last sentence. “Wait, marathon? Aren’t you meant to have a date with Kelly tonight?” “Uh…” Alex paused briefly on her way to the couch. She sat down, grabbing the remote. “No.” “Alex.” Alex flicked through the list of movies on the screen, refusing to look at Kara. “Fine, I canceled.” “What?” Forgetting about ordering the food, Kara walked over to the couch and stood directly between Alex and the TV, forcing Alex to look at her. “Alex.” “Stop saying my name like that,” Alex grumbled, reluctantly setting the remote down. “I’m worried about you, okay?” Kara bristled, recalling Nia’s constant pleading with her to say something to Alex. “Why? Did someone say something to you?” “No. But you’ve been distracted lately.” Alex took note of the relief that washed over Kara’s face. “You’re not focused on the job. It’s like your mind is somewhere else entirely.” “I am not distracted!” “You flew into a building yesterday, Kara!” Kara grimaced. “I’m...well...that was...fine! I was distracted then but I’m not distracted now! I was just thinking about…” “Lena?” Alex interjected knowingly. “Kara, I know you miss her but…” “I don’t want to talk about this.” Kara quickly interrupted. She didn’t want to get into her thoughts about Lena and she didn’t want to lie to Alex more than she already was. “I’ll try to focus, I promise. Now can we go back to talking about why you ditched your date to hang out with me?” “I already told you. I was worried.” Alex patted the seat next to her and Kara plopped down at her side. “Kelly understands.” “You could have at least invited her over for movie night.” “You’d be okay with that?” Alex turned more toward Kara, resting her arm along the back of the couch. “Me inviting her to our sister nights sometimes?” Kara shrugged her shoulders. “Sure. You two are serious, aren’t you? She’s practically family to me too now. The more the merrier!” Alex smiled warmly at the response and leaned forward to hug her sister. “Thanks, Kara. I know that would mean a lot to her.” ---- “Come in,” Lena called at the sound of a gentle knock at her office door. She distractedly straightened the already neat stack of papers in front of her and looked up when Kara entered the room, her hands and arms full. “It’s too much, right?” Kara grimaced at the shocked look on Lena’s face. “I didn’t know if you would have eaten lunch yet so I brought sushi and then I figured maybe you would want something sweet so I brought cronuts and cupcakes. I didn’t know if you would want hot coffee or iced so I brought both.” Lena leaned back in her seat, reluctantly amused by Kara’s rambling. “I’m not especially hungry but I never say no to coffee.” Kara brightened at the comment and she walked toward Lena’s desk, unceremoniously setting everything down. She sat down opposite Lena, shuffling the chair as close as possible to the desk. “So you wanted to talk?” Lena sipped at the coffee Kara had brought for her, noticing it was still piping hot. “I do need to ask you some things. But before we get into that, I was wondering if you’ll tell me why you’re keeping secrets from your sister? It seemed that the two of you told each other everything.” “I...you’re right. We do, usually.” Kara took her bright pink milkshake from the cup holder on the desk, mostly for something to do with her hands. “But if I tell her about this she’s only going to worry. It’s dangerous.” “I would have thought she’d be used to that by now,” Lena commented, folding her arms atop her desk. “Being the sister of Supergirl and all.” Kara shrugged her shoulders in response. “I just don’t want to worry her until I have to this time.” “But my question is, why is this time different to all of the other times?” “I’m...um…” Lena watched Kara nervously fidget. “So that’s the part you’re not telling me.” “It’s not for the reason you think!” Kara said quickly, not wanting Lena to get the wrong idea. “It’s just that I don’t want to tell anyone until I’m sure. I’m still kind of processing it myself. Trying to anyway. But I will tell you. When I’m sure.” “It sounds important. Is it bad?” Kara nodded grimly. “You could say that.” As Kara drank an unhealthy amount of her milkshake in one sip, Lena decided to stop pressing the issue. “I’ve been looking into the antimatter you asked me about. Or trying to, at least. As I said when you asked me, it’s really only a theory.” Kara wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Do you know if there’s any way to stop it?” “Not yet.” Lena reluctantly answered, trying not to show how much it irked her that she was having trouble figuring it out. “I’ve been looking into it but up until now I only have more questions.” “Okay. Can I help?” Lena thought about that for a moment, hesitant to open herself up to working with Kara again. This was how it started. She knew that. Kara would worm her way back in with her goodness and sincerity and Lena’s resolve to be angry would crumble. “Lena?” Lena shook her head, breaking herself from her thoughts. “There’s far more matter than antimatter in the universe compared to say...moments after the Big Bang when matter and antimatter would have been at war with one another. Of course, matter won out in the end which is why now there’s very little antimatter left in the universe today.” Kara nodded in response. “Yeah?” “But we still encounter a small amount of antimatter every day.” Lena continued, cupping her hands around her still warm coffee. “But that only accounts for single particles colliding which is why we never notice when they do collide.” She paused, taking a sip from her coffee as she gathered her thoughts. “The only answer I have for you right now is that the scale of destruction that would be caused is entirely dependant upon the amount of antimatter in question. Which leads me to my question...how much antimatter are you talking about?” “A lot.” Kara sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Larger than a city?” “Bigger than the earth,” Kara answered, shaking her head. She shuddered, recalling the wave which had consumed everything. Including herself. “Do you know if there’s a way to stop it?” “I’ll keep looking,” Lena replied, watching Kara closely. There was something off about her. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Thank you,” Kara said gratefully. “Anything you find out could help. This really means a lot to me.” Lena bit back a harsh retort. It was instinct for her to want to lash out at Kara. The wound of betrayal was still fresh. So fresh that Lena wasn’t sure it would ever heal. “Lena, I’m...I think I’m…” Kara hesitated, taking a shuddering breath. “In this crisis, I’m supposed to…” Lena watched with a furrowed brow as Kara struggled to speak. “Supposed to what?” “Just…” Kara was cut off by the sound of her phone ringing and she jumped at the sound, scrambling to take her phone from her pocket. “Sorry, it’s Alex. I have to take this.” Lena motioned for Kara to go ahead and leaned back in her seat. “Hello? Yeah, it’s fine...I’ll be right there.” “Duty calls?” Lena asked as Kara quickly tucked her phone away and stood up. “Sorry. Can we talk more tomorrow?” Kara asked hopefully as she whipped her glasses off. Lena nodded as she watched Kara’s suit appear. “That’s fine. Stop by my office around the same time.” “Thanks, Lena. I have to go, I’m sorry…” Kara bit her lip, looking at Lena. “What?” Lena looked down at herself, wondering what Kara was looking at. “Nothing.” Kara blushed. She could hardly tell Lena that instead of rushing off to a burning building she was busy thinking about how much she missed hugging Lena goodbye. “I’ll see you later.” Before Lena could say anything Kara had fled the room, shooting up into the sky from the balcony. Sighing, Lena looked at the untouched food Kara had left on her desk. She supposed her employees would be happy, at least. TBC.

#Supercorp #Supergirl #Kara Danvers #Lena Luthor

53 notes · View notes

adarlingwrites · 3 years

Text

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who's willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XVII

October 1, 2277.

That was the day Percy and I met Dr. Li.

A hard-nosed security officer who introduced himself as Harkness almost didn’t let us in the city. He seemed annoyed at Percy and suspicious of me, but my mistress flashes a smile and says something about Dr. Li’s work on hydrophones-hydrophobic? Whatever it was, Harkness doesn’t have a clue either.

“Just keep out of trouble in my boat. I’m watching the two of you,” he tells us, and Percy nods.

“I’m just a young scientist with my assistant. Don’t worry Chief.”

Harkness looks at me from head to toe. I glared right back at him.

“He looks more like a mercenary type. What does he even assist you with?”

“Moving heavy equipment and keeping me safe while I conduct my research, of course!”

A half-truth. Though I’m not her errand boy, I’ve been keeping her ass alive as she put herself in danger “for science”. I did push her out of the way when a landmine almost blew up on her face when we were collecting them “for science”. Some days ago she also intentionally irradiated herself by wading in with those Church of Atom weirdos and drinking the water surrounding the bomb in the middle of town “for science”. Then she jumped off the fucking railings and broke her leg, also “for science”, and I had to haul her to Moira Brown’s shop.

I took care of her sick ass for days. In the month I knew her, sometimes I think Percy needs a doctor too...

“Yeah, yeah, fine. One of you step out of line while in my boat, you’ll be answering to me.”

As we got in, Percy smiled like a cat that got the cream and gave me a thumbs up.

In the science lab, one of the scientists’ arguing with a business type in a suit, and an arrogant one, judging from the tone of his voice. Percy listened to their exchange for a while, then squinted when she sees one of them accompanying a guy who was moving boxes.

There was fresh produce in it. I can’t remember the last time I saw an actual carrot, but there it was.

Percy gently nudges my arm with her elbow. “Huh. So Dr. Li is working on hydroponics. I guess our alibi checks out. Who would’ve thought?”

Lucky girl.

There was a hint of apprehension in Percy’s step as she approached this one. This particular scientist looks about Percy’s father’s age, judging from a more recent photograph of him that Percy keeps on her person at all times. Her eyes are sharp, and dark, like Percy’s and her father’s, and her graying black hair is kept in a neat bun. She looks like she means business, and has that detached, no-nonsense look on her face too.

“Dr. Madison Li?”

“This is a restricted area. I’m tired of- it’s you! My heavens, you look so much like him,” she blurts out.

Her eyes are wide, and her posture is alert. The scientist looks like she had seen either a ghost, or a long-lost friend.

“You know who I am?” my mistress asks her. Percy was watching her with a curious look.

“You’re James’ daughter Persephone, aren’t you?”

‘Percy’ is short for Persephone? I never would’ve guessed. It’s an uncommon name, and my mistress would be the only ‘Persephone’ I know.

“I suppose James never told you about me. Typical…” the doctor continues. There was some resentment in her voice, but when she said that last word, she sounds almost sorrowful.

“I’m sorry. I’m glad to meet you though,” Percy replies. She had used that tone with me before. She’s being sincere.

“I- hm. I suppose you didn’t come here to exchange pleasantries. What are you doing here?”

“Dad left the vault. I wanted to look for him.”

“Did you now? I was under the impression that’s not what your father wanted for you,” Li replied, stern expression on her face.

“Well, security tried to kill me when they found out dad got out. Killed dad’s lab assistant too. I had to fight my way out.”

The doctor was taken aback, her hand flying to her chest in a show of genuine alarm. “All by yourself? Persephone...”

Percy nods.

But then, Dr. Li clears her throat, the initial surprise and concern replaced by that coldness again. “I am sorry to hear that. But I’m afraid I cannot help you. James has come and gone already.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

Dr. Li massages her temples. “He said that he was going back to the lab at Project Purity, in the old Jefferson Memorial Building, northwest of here. It seems he never moved on after all. I told him that too much time has passed when he demanded me to help him. It’s futile.”

“Project Purity? Can you tell me what was the goal behind it?”

The doctor and my mistress exchanged a conversation that was too complicated for me to understand, but from what I can process, it aimed to give clean water to everyone. Noble, but it sounds impossible. How would Percy’s father even pull that off? I suppose if the mistress was smart, her father would be just as smart, or smarter.

Whatever. I shouldn’t even be concerning myself with that. My concern is keeping my contract holder safe. When that person is a crazy kid who drank atomic bomb water “for science”, it’s a challenge.

“Thank you for your help, doctor. I know you’re a busy woman. From one aspiring scientist to a renowned one, maybe we I can learn from you when the circumstances allow it,” Percy replies, extending her hand.

With hesitation, Li shakes the mistress’ hand. “I see you share your father’s scientific interest. Very well.”

I was walking with Percy, who was formulating a plan on how to get to the rotunda safely, when Dr. Li headed towards us with an uneasy expression, like she changed her mind on something.

“Wait. It’s too dangerous. The memorial was overrun by super mutants.”

Percy looks at Dr. Li, then at me. “Dammit. We better hurry and make sure that dad wasn’t eaten by the muties, then.”

“James is smarter than that. Take these,” Dr. Li said, handing my mistress a container of stimpaks. “They might make things easier for you.”

“Thanks doc,” the mistress replies, tucking the medical supplies in her stash. “C’mon Charon. Let’s get some ammo.”

“As you wish.”

“Let’s come up with a strategy too, so you wouldn’t have to get hurt for me when one of them throws a grenade again.”

Behind me, I can still feel Dr. Li watching the two of us.

As soon as we left the lab, Percy looks up to me. “Do you think she hates me?”

“I do admit that you are difficult to hate, miss, despite all the trouble I go through to keep your sorry ass safe,” I tell her, and she bumps her shoulder into my arm, her chuckles soft.

“Coming from you that sounds like a marriage proposal.”

I snort. I didn’t intend to do it, but it came out anyway. Percy throws her head back and laughs at my reaction.

“Anyway. She seems… cold. I wonder what happened between her and dad for her to act that way,” Percy continues, definitely bothered by their interactions.

“Miss, may I share my observations?”

“Speak freely.”

“She’s holding back an eagerness to meet you,” I tell her.

“Huh. Now why would she do that?”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t know the answer.

I tilt my head at Percy. “You seem very invested on what this scientist thinks of you, miss.”

“I grew up without a mom and dad’s the only family I knew. It’s nice to see an older female figure I can look up to. Even if she’s just dad’s old friend and she’s a cold scientist who doesn’t like me.”

Now that’s just sad.

“Fine. If it makes you happy, I think she likes you.”

“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better. It’s enough that you like me.”

I snorted again. “Miss, don’t push your luck.”

“I’d rather push your buttons,” she teases, bumping me with her hip.

“Physical violence invalidates our contract,” I joked.

I joked.

“I know, big guy. I know.”

Perhaps If I wasn’t distracted by Percy’s flirtatious humor, and concerning myself with tactics, I could’ve figured out what Percy meant to the doctor back then.

February 9, 2278.

“Stop!”

I was using my body to shield Dr. Li, and DeLoria was trying to hold Lyons back, efforts futile, when an old man in blue robes strode in the room.

“Sarah, my child, a word with you,” the old man said with an air of authority.

I’ve seen him once, when Percy fled with the scientists when the Enclave took over Project Purity. It’s the Elder.

“Elder, explain,” the blonde demanded, marching towards him.

“This isn’t a conversation we can have here, Sentinel. Come with me.”

I’m glad that she did as she was told, or I wouldn’t hesitate to brawl with her.

We were left there in tense silence, the machine keeping Percy alive the only thing making a damn sound.

I glared at both DeLoria and Li. They carried guilty looks on their faces.

“You said us three were the only ones allowed inside,” I growl, and to give Li some credit, she didn’t shrink at my words.

The only other person who didn’t was Percy, back when she stepped in to help Patchwork.

“He’s the Elder. The Citadel is under his command. As much as I don’t want to admit it, he’s being extremely generous to give me full control of Persephone’s treatment despite protests from the scribes. I tried to keep him away from this room as hard as I could. I came up with every excuse,” she snapped.

Dr. Li clears her throat, and continued, much more in control now.

“They cannot know about Persephone’s true nature. Seeing how they relied on her to carry out the work their soldiers should’ve been doing, they might exploit her for this too.”

“Exploit her how? How can I carry on protecting Percy when I’m left in the damn dark?”

DeLoria rubbed his face. “Ah, to hell with it. Doc, we gotta tell him. And I know there are some details you’re holding back from me too.”

My eyes flick towards the greaser. “Tell me what? What the hell is going on?“

“Calm down,” Li asserts, stern, that no-nonsense expression present on her face again. She looks outside to see if anyone was eavesdropping, and turned every surface over, even checking under Percy’s bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking for bugs. What you’re about to hear is information that could put every single one of us in danger,” Dr. Li said, and DeLoria has a grim frown on his face.

What the hell does she know that DeLoria knows, but I don’t?

“Clear. Mr. DeLoria, you start.”

“Okay, doc. Hey, remember the day that I first came to visit here?” DeLoria asks me. I nod.

“Well, a few days before that, Quinn, that ghoul I met when I helped you and Percy to Underworld? He was looking for me in Rivet City. He asked me to deliver some papers to Dr. Li. Said it was from Dr. Barrows.”

Barrows? What does he have to do with this?

“Quinn said that them Brotherhood tin cans would shoot the hell out of the doc if he showed up in person, so he needed my help. I didn’t want nothing to do with it at first, but he said that it could help Percy.”

“That’s where I come in,” Dr. Li continues, taking a step towards me. “Those documents Barrows gave me were Persephone’s medical records. She left instructions in a written will that if something happens to her that results to her death or incapacitation, I’m allowed to divulge information only to Mr. DeLoria, and you. I can’t keep it a secret any longer. I must tell you both now.”

“Tell us what?”

“The modifications in Persephone’s DNA are starting to manifest. Percy’s father, James? He did this to her. Catherine had so many miscarriages because of the damage years of background radiation did to her body. They wanted a child so badly. James wanted to make sure the next child lives, so he turned to… dubious methods.”

DeLoria joined me in looking at the doctor with skepticism.

“He made Persephone a living weapon. He played god.”

My perception of James shifted as I heard Dr. Li’s confession. Him? The good Christian father, who was in every way supportive of his daughter, who wanted to give an entire Wasteland drinkable water, was a mad scientist who was playing god with his own flesh and blood?

What the fuck.

“I know what you’ve heard gave you more questions than answers, but bear with me. The specifics of James’ procedures aren’t known to me either,” Dr. Li continues, rummaging inside her labcoat. She produces a holotape, and hands it over to me.

“Give this holotape to Persephone when she wakes up. She deserves to know about James’ past, and the truth about herself. Now, I need to go. I can’t stay any longer.”

Faster than Dr. Li can open the door, I block the exit and corner her, slamming my fist against the wall. She flinches, but she stays firm. In our proximity, the determination in her eyes remind me too much of Percy’s.

“No. You’re going to stay here, and continue being Percy’s doctor,” I tell her, trapping her.

“Whoa, ease up man,” DeLoria tells me, but I shrug him off. He tries to intervene. Too bad I’m bigger than the both of them.

“You said that the Brotherhood couldn’t find out about Percy’s secret. How can I prevent that if the only doctor that can help her goes and leaves the scribes in charge with their damn needles?”

“Barrows will take over,” Dr. Li insists, looking me in the eye.

I laughed, darkly, bitterly. DeLoria looks fucking spooked, and so did Li.

“Barrows? Didn’t you hear DeLoria, doctor? They’ll shoot him up as soon as he’s here. They’re bigots. When he replaces you, they’ll kill him to get to Percy. And I’ll have to take every single bastard who tries to touch Percy down, or die trying. Do you want that?”

Dr. Li’s mortified.

“Damn. That’s the longest thing I ever heard you say, and the creepiest fucking laugh ever,” DeLoria comments, and I glare at him.

He shut his mouth.

Multiple emotions flash through the doctor’s face. Taking a breath to steel herself, Dr. Li folds her arms.

“Fine. You’re right.”

I let her loose. DeLoria is distraught, checking on Li as the doctor straightened her coat.

“One more day. I stay for one more day. After that, you need to get her out of here.”

#lone wanderer #female lone wanderer #charon #fallout charon #charon fallout #fallout 3 charon #charon fallout 3 #butch deloria #madison li #oc: percy zhou #fanfic: absolution #series: through river acheron #fallout #fallout 3 #fallout fanfic #writers on tumblr

4 notes · View notes

j--meat-hook--j · 4 years

Text

A Trip to the Mainland (Taiyuu cooking event) (?)

@taiyuu-high-oct

A Train from Taiyuu Island to Mainland Japan took a couple hours, hours of ocean, boredom and more ocean. Staring at the TV, Zeke remembered a time before Taiyuu, before Japan even.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A small town on the coast of Germany, a large building, a small apartment.

A teenager enters, around 17 years old, wiping his feet and looking around, the clock reads 8pm. He spotted his younger brother in the living “room” by himself watching cartoons. The younger one couldn’t be older than 9.

“Hey, kiddo. Where’s Mum?”

“She got called into work.”

Frustrated in his mother’s irresponsibility and lack of note, the older brother tried to keep the conversation going as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Watchin TV.”

“Oh, so you found the remote?” “No.” Flick. The channel changed.

Opening the pantry the older brother found… half a loaf of bread and a whole lot of empty space.

“Have you had anything to eat yet?”

“No. Mum was gonna get groceries but she got called into work.”

Biting his fist in frustration, the older brother pounded the pantry door with his head. Silently seething in anger the older brother put on a happy face, the older brother came out and sat next to the younger brother.

“Let’s go out for dinner tonight, just you and me.” “Won’t Mum and Dad get angry?” “They’ll never know, I got a little extra money from work today.”

“I mean… sure.”

“Alright, get your stuff ready and we’ll leave in a few.” The older brother wrote a note for their Mother, if she returned home tonight.

When the two got ready and were almost out the door, the younger brother stopped.

“Umm... Schlaut?”

“What’s up Zeke?”

“Are you sure Mum and Dad won’t find out?”

“Hey, we’ll leave our trash in a public bin, they’ll never know.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Finally on the Mainland of Japan Zeke had a couple trips to make.

The first stop for today was to withdraw money, but look like a cool guy, Sunglasses on. Wandering around the Whatever City, Zeke can’t remember what it’s called, he started to get his bearings.

‘Alright, grocery shop’s there, post office’s there and-’

Zeke felt a rumble down to his core.

‘It’s going to be a thunderstorm tonight.’

Finally finding an ATM in Whatever City, that took forever. Taking his “Credit” Card out Zeke approached the ATM, noone was nearby anyway but he still felt he had to play the part.

Feeling the ATM Zeke felt all the different compartments, searching for the most used 4, Zeke found what he needed.

Trying the first one: Whirr, Zzzt And Dispense. 1000 Yen, not quite what he needed.

Next compartment: Whirr, Zzzt and Dispense. 5000 Yen, close but not the notes he needed.

The Third compartment: Whirr, Zzzt and Dispense. 10,000, exactly what Zeke needed.

Grabbing an extra 13 10k Yen bills Zeke had enough to pay for his tuition, with some left over.

That wasn’t right, only take what you need. Zeke remembered when this all became second nature to him, why quickly searching these machines became so easy.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“That’d be 50 Euros sir.” A cashier lady, in a large mall grocery store.

“I’m really sorry, can you wave it just this once?” Schlaut, now at the age of 19, pleaded to the cashier holding a 20 Euro note.

“I’m sorry sir, if you couldn’t afford it you shouldn’t have picked it up.”

“But this is all we have for the week, we’ll go hungry without this food.” Schlaut

“Then get 20 Euros worth of food or get out of the store.”

“Fine. C’mon Zeke we’re outta here.” Zeke, now 11 years old, followed his brother out of the store.

“What’s the plan now Schlaut?”

“I dunno kiddo, we’ll figure something out.”

It wasn’t long into the usual walk home when they walked past an ATM, it’s screen illuminating the sidewalk. The screen flickered strange colours, reds, blues even a neon green. Schlaut paused, did a slow turn on his feet and paced to the ATM.

“Zeke?” “Yeah Schlaut?”

“Are you doing that?”

Zeke’s stiffened and he turned his face away from his brother.

“Zeke look at me.”

Zeke reluctantly looked at his Older Brother, the pupils of his brown eyes glowing a slight blue.

“Did I do something wrong?” Zeke was looking at the ground in shame.

“No no no no nononono nono, no Zeke. You did something very, very right.” Schlaut hadn’t felt this excited in a while.

“Let’s play a game Zeke, see if you can find some paper in this machine.” Schlaut pointed to the ATM.

“You mean money, isn’t that stealing?” Zeke was willing to do this, but he wasn’t very happy about it.

“Hey, we’re only going to take what we need ok? No more. We’re not villains, we’re survivors. See if you can find a 20 note and a 10 note.” Zeke had found a way to save us!

“Ok. I’ll try.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Returning back to the present Zeke held about 2000 Yen too much in his hands. The fridge at Taiyuu was running low, this money seems appropriate for everyone to use.

Zeke went to that small grocery store he passed by earlier. Fresh fruits and vegetables, that’s what Taiyuu needed, none of that instant shit. Apples, carrots, broccoli and one pack of the cheapest Cup Noodles he could find.

‘How would the others at Taiyuu react? I don’t think Sako or Spellman would be particularly fond of me anymore. Ah well, they won’t find out. All the years of pulling this same stunt we were only found out once.’

Zeke paid a total of 1962 yen.

“Have a good day.”

“Yeah, you too.”

‘Only found out once.’

Supermarket (Schlauts Quirk)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“How’s that Zeke, just enough to get us through this week. Mum should have the day off tomorrow so we’ll cook a whole bunch then.” Schlaut, now 21, said to his brother Zeke, now 13.

“Yeah, maybe Dad’d have time to help as well.”

“I doubt it kiddo.”

RUUUUUUMMMBBBBBLEEE

“We should get going before it rains, seems like a storm is brewing.

Off they were on the usual walk home, Through an empty courtyard, groceries in hand. Not too much, just enough to get by.

“Hey Asshole!”

Schlaut turned, almost like he was expecting this.

“Yes, Gregory?”

A potbellied man, more of a sphere than a man, called out to the two.

“You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us.”

“Us?” Zeke panicked.

“There’s about 4 of them, stay behind me Zeke.”

“What, who are you talking about, how do you know these people?”

“It’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”

3 other men came up from behind the Sphere Man. One looked too long to be normal, another looked like a leaf man, the last one had spines coming out of his back.

“Yeah, not so tough are ya now there’s more of us.” Sphere man said, he sounded like he was from New York, which is weird because this is Germany.

“Huh, Good one boss.” The Leaf Man said, he had a very deep voice.

“Yeah, good one boss.” The Spine Man said, he had a very snively voice.

“Hehehe, heheh hehehe hehehe” The Long Man said, he had a very creepy laugh.

“You made it easier for me.” Schlaut butted in, sounding far too confident for a 4 on 1 fight.

RUUUUMMMMMMMBLLLLLLEEEEE

Long Man reached over and punched Sphere Man in the face.

“Aaaah, Tony, whaddya doin? Hit him not me!” Sphere Man was both confused and angry

“Heheheh, heheh, Hehehehhe!” The Long Man’s laugh seemed very panicked and confused.

Leaf Man punched Spine Man, Spine Man grabbed Long Man. It was a free for all, none of the assorted goons and henchmen ever came near Schlaut and Zeke, Zeke leaned over Schlauts shoulder.

“What are they doing Schlaut? Why are they here?” Schlaut looked back at his younger brother. “Don’t worry, Zeke, they’re taking care of it themselves.” Schlaut looked at Zeke for a moment, just one moment was all it took for Zeke to notice the slight red glow from his brother's pupils.

It wasn’t too long before the four strangers were all on the ground unconscious. Not once did the 4 even take a step towards the Funkee brothers.

“Let’s go Zeke, it’s all taken care of.” “But… but-” “Let’s GO Zeke.”

RUUUUMMMMMMMBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBLLLLLLEEEEE

They turned to continue on their way home, when Zeke heard skidding. No. Rolling? Turning around in curiosity Zeke saw Sphere Man rolling towards them, like a ball. A very angry ball.

“Schlaut, look out!” Zeke jumped, panicked and….

FLASH

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Not done for the day yet, still gotta send a letter off to Mum back in Germany, quick visit to the Posty and back to Taiyuu. Card, letter, shipping. Totaling 300 yen, that is cheap!

Hey Mum,

Taiyous Taiyuus going great, i think im really hitting it off with everybody here. This place seems more my style than uA anyway. Theres a whole bunch of really weird people here. One person can even shapeshit shapeshift!

Anyway hows things with you, hows the new job in France?

Has Schlaut come back yet?

Love,

Zeke

“Just one letter, wouldn’t a text be better?” The teller was confused.

“It’s just a little tradition we have. Notes and written things are easier to keep anyway.”

Zeke made his way back to Taiyuu, hours on the train, again. The news reports were going on about a villain by the name “The King”. Luckily Taiyuu covered the costs of going back to Mainland Japan. Making his way back to the kitchen area Zeke deposited the fruits and veggies into the communal fridge. However, Zeke kept the Noodle Cup.

Zeke set the kettle to boil and thought of the day everything changed, the day Schlaut left. There was no bang, there was no warning. Around when Zeke was 13 Schlaut just, poof, gone. The whole family thought he was dead for months until Zeke’s 14th birthday, where Zeke got an RC car, brand new and very high end. It came with a note.

Hey Kiddo, Happy Birthday. Sorry I couldn’t be there this year

Noone ever really bothered Zeke again, of course Zeke still had his friends but noone bullied, assaulted or even annoyed him again. The icecream place even gave him a discount. Teachers were a whole lot nicer, even recommending him to hero courses like UA: LA, Shiketsu and Seijin. That was 2 years ago.

The screech of the kettle brought Zeke out of his thoughts. Filling his Cup Noodles with boiling water Zeke had made a shitty meal at Taiyuu.

BOOOOOOOMMMMMM

“Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot.”

Maybe not.

#taiyuu oct #Zeke Funkee #round 2 #cooking event

5 notes · View notes

bookdragonlibrary · 5 years

Text

Roller Coaster

(Before season 3 and Bart and Ed aren’t dating yet.)

Jaime has finally invited Bart to the Runaways skateboarding session. He was excited and stressed, a little ball of vibrations. So his best friend suggested to teach him skateboard before hand. After a lot of tries, falls and bruises, Bart gives up and tries rollers instead. Way crasher. He just has to remember not to use his super speed or he would break a wheel or two. Again.

So there they are, walking toward the skatepark and Bart is fidgeting. When they arrive, Virgil comes to them.

“Were’nt you supposed to teach him skateboard?” He asks, looking at his rollers.

“Not really the type to keep his feet still, ese. Even on a board”, Jaime smiles.

Virgil has a regular board for once and Ed a new one. Bart feels a little bit odd with his rollers. But Virgil quickly suggest him to come to try a slide.

Jaime go to chat with Sam, Scarab translating for him, or for her when she forgets an English word. Tye told him Asami’s parents planned a wedding for her so her future husband can take the familial company when they would be both 18. As her parents didn’t want to change their mind, about the wedding or her going to a bigger city to study, she ran away, a last-minute idea, escaping from her rural village now too small for her dreams. She was abducted during her travel to Kyoto. Now she was too afraid of her parents’ decision and reaction about her wall eyes, one with a gaijin color.

Ed has joined Virgil to help Bart with tips and explanations as Jaime is talking with Sam and Tye while watching his hermano riding the funbox.

The afternoon passes under the Texan sun. Bart ignores the calls of his stomach, then the headache slowly growing on his skull, the lightly shake of his fingers. When he finally feels too dizzy to keep going, finally realises he should sit, his vision blurs and his legs give up under him. But he doesn’t hit the ground or feel the pain which should come after. He barely hears a voice calling his name, calling people. He knows the person behind it but can’t remember the face coming with this voice.

When he opens his eyes he registers a golden brown hand around his belly, preventing him from falling forward. He tries to comprehend where his body is, where he is. He’s between someone legs, his back resting on their torso, his head on their shoulder, their other hand on his temple to gently maintain him there, his face toward the curve of their neck. There are skateboards dispersed on the ground and he’s wearing rollers. Why is he wearing rollers? Someone wearing jeans crouches in front of him.

“Hermano, do you hear me?”

“Blue?” He managed to articulate with a dry voice.

If Blue is in front of him, who is behind?

“You can go, nobody’s there”, another voice add.

He know it too. The person has an even darker skin than Blue. What’s his name again?

A canon is forming around Blue’s arm, pointed at him. He trembles even more. Why Blue wants to attack him? What did he do? He tried so much not to be annoying, so why Blue is mad at him?

He feels a nose on his hair, the person is looking at him.

“Jaime, piensa que es una arma.”

“¿Qué? Oh no, hermano, it’s okay. It’s not the canon. It’s- no Scarab, telling him it’s to analyse him won’t help at all. Yeah, I know it’s too late now, muchas gracias. It’s okay, hermano. It’s just to know what’s going on. So I can help. It won’t even touch you. Okay?

Bart nods. Of course Blue won’t hurt him. He’s the good one.

The “thing” around his arm emits a blue light and a piece turns. That’s all.

“Hypoglycemia.”

“What?”

“Low blood sugar. Bart, did you eat enough? When was the last time you eat something?”

“Questions later. Just give him something already”, orders the person behind.

Why does names fly away from him? The more he thinks of it, the more he’s positive he knows the people around Blue and him.

“What does he need?” Ask a guy with long hair.

“Something sweet. Does anyone has soda or juice or something?”

“I have banana juice in my bag”, informs the person behind him.

Bart really needs to remember their names.

“Who drinks banana juice anyway?”

“Someone loving bananas, maybe?”

Someone snorts.

“Not that kind of banana, boludo. You guys are clearly annoying...”

“But I tried...” begins Bart.

“¿Qué? No, not you, amigo.”

“There you go” says Blue, reappearing again.

He didn’t even register he was gone.

Blue put the straw in his mouth and Bart just has to drink.

“Do you want to eat something too? I have Chicken Wizzies in my bag.”

Bart nod again.

“Give me the juice. I’ll give it to him.”

“Gracias, Edu.”

Ed! That’s his name!

The hand moves from his hair to his cheek as Bart finishes the bottle.

“Toma.”

Who’s Thomas? Or Tomá? Is that even a Spanish name? He can’t think at the moment.

Blue gives him an open bag Ed put between his legs but quickly moves it to his side, but Bart doesn’t understand why his legs aren’t a good place.

“Está bien, Jaime. Puedo cuidar de él ahora. Puedes ir a divertirte con los otros.”

“¿Estás seguro? No me molesta.”

“Si, por supuesto.”

“Vale, dígame si algún se pasa.”

“Claro que si.”

Bart didn’t understand a word but doesn’t mind, he was still working with English already. He has finished the bottle now, Ed brings it to the side and the hand reappears with a chip instead. Bart just opens his mouth, feeling still too weak to move yet. Ed keeps feeding him, waiting for the food to be swallowed to provide a new one.

“Do you feel better?”

The bag is empty and a thumb takes off the dust from the side of his lips.

“Yeah, Ed. I’m crash now.”

But he doesn’t move yet, still resting his head on his shoulder, in his arms. He just feels at peace now. And for once he doesn’t feel the urge to talk. They stay silent a moment, just watching their friends skateboarding in front of them. Ed starts to ask questions about the hero life, how it was like for Virgil, Jaime and him. At the beginning, it was complicated to form sentences again, to melt two ideas together. But the words finally pour outside his mouth like a waterfall like usual, but not too-fast-still-not-superspeed kind. And Ed is genuinely listening to him, somethimes asking to repeat — more because he still struggle with a word or two though — or ask questions. Most of time, people just pretend to listen, but Ed, just like Jaime, doesn’t. The attention warms his heart and make his smile wider.

“So do you strip often?” Was his next question.

Bart blinks few times.

“What?”

Bart cannot stop the blush for rosing on his cheeks. He knows he kind of has a habbit to change at superspeed in the changeroom but only a speedster could see details in the blur of colors.

“What... what do you mean?”

“Um... you know, when you run, you... you could strip on a rock or something.”

Bart breathes again as the tension melt away.

“You mean trip. Yeah, that still happens, sadly. Especially when we don’t fight on a town but in nature. It’s easy to trip on a small rock or something. You can’t see them at superspeed and I look rather at what is before me than on my feet, you know. I can vibrate through a wall, but still eat one if I don’t see it.”

Ed chuckles, Bart smiles. It’s great that his goofiness can make people laugh. That’s why he loves playing dumb so much. It’s an easier way to make people happy than his past in the future or science.

“Hey, hermano, you still come over tonight?” Jaime asks as he walks toward them.

They didn’t notice it was this late.

“Of course! It’s enchiladas tonight! No way I can miss it.”

“You feel better now? You can walk?”

“ I think” he smiles, reassuring.

“You need help to get up?” Ed suggests.

“huh, yes, sure.”

“hermano, you should take your rollers off first.”

“Ah yes, good idea.”

He spent so much time talking to Ed he forgot he came here for that in the first place and that he is still wearing these wheeled shoes. He quickly takes them off and then Ed’s hand to stand back on his feet.

“Do you want me to ask Scarab if you have normal blood sugar now?”

“No, I feel the difference. I’m fine now.”

“If you say so.”

They all say goodbye as Jaime and Bart are going in a direction and the others take the opposite, spending a Runaway night at Tye’s place. Bart looks at their back, wishing Jaime and him could also come with them. But it’s their thing and he doesn’t want to crash in a bad way. It was still crash he could come today.

“You didn’t eat at all this afternoon, uh? Why? You never spend an hour without eating something”

“I had so much fun I... forgot? And I didn’t want to bother or being annoying. But I annoyed you even more with this crisis. I know it’s great that I can come with you and that Tye doesn’t really like me... I’m not sure they would want me to come next time.”

“What? Wait, why do you think Tye doesn’t like you?”

“Uh... because he doesn’t talk to me so much? And he always looks grumpy when I’m around.”

“He’s introvert, he’s like that all the time. He doesn’t talk at the beginning and then he opens. At primary school we spent like a year without talking to each other. And now we’re best friends. And why do you think you’re annoying? I don’t find you annoying, Virgil either and I’m sure Ed doesn’t think that too.” Bart smiles. “They like you, hermano. That why we were worried for you. Tye just needs more time to open and Asami isn’t at ease with English yet. Just give it time and I’m sure you’ll be invited next time. Why do you think that in the first place?”

“Doy, I have ADHD...”

“And then? That makes you special, not annoying.”

“You think so?” He jumps with a hoping smile.

“Of course I do! Did I ever make you feel you’re annoying? Because if I did, I apologize, that wasn’t my—”

“No, you never. I’m sorry, I’m an idiot.”

“Yes you are, hermanito.” He gently smiles. “A blind idiot. How was it with Ed?”

“He’s crash.”

“I bet he is.”

—————————

I have no idea why Asami would have run away from her family. We only know she isn’t in a good term with them. So I made it. I hope it’s okay and realistic.

I have the headcanon Bart could have hypoglycemia just like diabetic people because his metabolism is so fast he could fall fast out of energy if he isn’t eating all the time.

And of course he’s oblivious at Ed’s kindness. Or his own feelings slowing blooming.

#young justice #bart allen #eduardo dorado jr #jaime reyes #tye longshadow #virgil hawkins #asami koizumi #the runaways #goldenflash #doradoflash #my writing #fanfiction

92 notes · View notes

sick-raven · 4 years

Text

Ghosts of the past - Chapter 1

Batman fanfiction

Characters: Jonathan Crane, OC - Miranda Bradbury, Bruce Wayne, John Constantine

About: Miranda Bradbury moved to Gotham for a few reasons - to enjoy her career as an assassin, and to face her fears. Who else should help her with hallucinations that follow her than the fear expert Jonathan Crane? However, the doctor-patient relationship is very unstable one as both of them have to fight with their past, their present, and Batman.

Author note: I was trying to figure out some fancy way to describe the story. It's just a porn with a plot about two sick freaks. Enjoy.

Fair warnings: Suicide attempt, rape mentions, nsfw, violence, light bdsm

Status: Finished, will post next chapters when in mood.

Can also read at AO3.

Chapter 1

It was a dark evening in Gotham. Now, every evening was dark, but in Gotham with its never-ending mist of smog, it was especially dull and uncomfortable. Street lights wouldn’t break the darkness, windows only shined TV light out and painted pictures of entertained families, or dining families, or, as most common in Gotham, arguing families.

Gotham was also loud and Terry Borrows hated that fact. They’ve never got used to constant car noises – revving of engines and horn honking that all coming back twofold in echoes bouncing from walls of thin streets. Annoying, headache causing. Terry would rather listen to their boss shouting all day.

They were hyper focused on the noise. On their check-up doctor said it’s nothing weird and then asked for payment in amount of Terry’s two-month salaries. Thief.

That’s when they heard it. Soft, almost silent ding. As if you try to get attention at the wedding table and you hit the crystal glass with a spoon. Once. Carefully. It sounded almost magical in this grey place.

Ding.

Terry stopped. At the end of the narrow street they saw a shadow. It was a person kneeling next to something on the ground. Terry didn’t see any details, but dread climbed on their back. This is Gotham. Terry should run. It doesn’t matter what were they witnessing, the logical thing is to…

Ding.

The person looked his way. Every little move was followed by that soft jingle.

And then Terry realized they can’t move anymore. The jingle dinged louder. And louder. The sound vibrated through the streets catching them right by the soul. Terry realized they can’t breathe. Their heart was racing like crazy and their head hurt from wave of sound around them.

The person… a woman… walked straight to Terry, bringing the sound with her. In the dark Terry recognized a scarf on her face and… oh god… bloody knife in her hand.

Run! They tried to move their legs. Nothing.

The sound. The fear. The knife.

Finally, Terry’s body gave in and they fainted. They didn’t see the woman touching their neck for pulse. Nor did they hear the sound stop as the woman left without hurting them.

In the street, there lay another body.

***

Miranda Bradbury really liked Gotham. She felt like a character in gothic romance. Darkness, never-ending mist and bad weather, creepy architecture and constant danger. She enjoyed Gotham since she’s moved here two weeks prior. This city was crazy. Mental even! During the time period she tried to adapt to her new environment, she’s already seen the clown terrorizing city, the Riddler enslaving a whole block and some maniac with knives kidnapping people trying to lure in the Bat.

Oh, yeah. Batman. Before she didn’t understand. How can the police just let mask vigilante on loose? She understood after two days. This city…

This city also ruined her business right away. She moved here, opened a toyshop and that was it. The empty place flourished under her care, filled with toys, decorations and joy. The shop was in pretty good part of town, and yet – no customers. Too late she found out this used to be a toyshop of some crazy guy – calling himself the Toymaker – who tried to kill the city with explosive teddy-bears and sentient Barbie dolls.

Yes. This city was mental.

And she loved it. She always tried to blend in, be the grey mouse in her warm turtleneck and messy brown hair. After witnessing crazy punk-rock fashion of this city she realized she stood up more like this. At least she can pass for naïve outsider. That’s always a plus in her line of work.

The fourth day and finally two guys entered her shop. They looked around with deep uninterest in their eyes. Walked through isles touching stuffed toy here and there or picking up a toy car and putting it back two seconds later. Miranda waited patiently at the counter, small smile on her lips.

They finally stopped in front of her. She suspected they are twins as their expression were the same – dull and bored. They were dressed like gangsters from twenties. Gotham was weirdly stuck in time.

“G’morning, lady,” said one of them despite it being deep afternoon. “We’ve come to talk.”

“How much?” Miranda asked.

“Excuse me?”

“How much?” she repeated not losing her patience. She adored the confused looks. “This isn’t my first rodeo, gentlemen. How much is the protection fee?”

“Straight lass, huh?”

“Partially,” Miranda joked. “I hate beating around the bush.”

“Don loves people like you. Right to bus’ ya know? It’s ten percent if you don’t want’cha place to burn.”

Miranda overlooked the empty store. Ten percent of nothing is… probably not suitable for Don Falcone, one of the mafia leaders of the city. Before setting the shop, Miranda made her research on the city’s bad guys. Always ready. Don Falcone won’t care, he will just want his cash. She started to think she underestimated the marketing. Be better PR, Miranda, it’s not that hard.

“Tell me, friends,” she started with a nice voice, “how does Don Falcone feel about illegal businesses?”

***

Miranda moved to Gotham for various reasons. One of them was the fact she was constantly on the move. She’s never spent anywhere more than two years. The last city she was in was Star City and that didn’t go well for her with all the supers around.

The second reason was that she’s always heard about Gotham as this sick place. The city corrupted by illness eating itself out like a wounded animal. That intrigued her and she felt as if this is the proper place to hide and never be found. And if she is, it will be probably in the dumpster behind some chemical plant. She could live with that future in mind.

The third reason… the main reason she wasn’t afraid to admit, she just didn’t want to deal with it… was him. Professor Jonathan Crane. Miranda took years of stupid, non-working, useless therapy to end up here. Her… could she even call them fears?... were crippling. And she needed the best. Jonathan Crane was the best. The fear specialist with shady background. But that’s Gotham for you. You might do inhumane experiments on your students and don’t get your licence revoked.

Miranda should probably be afraid of someone like that. Ridiculous idea. He was still running decent psychiatric office and all reviews threw him five stars. She will be careful. She just really needed help.

This was the part she hated. Explaining. She sat in front of the professor. He was fairly young for the title. Miranda’s looked through his files too, though he has been careful keeping most of the information hidden. Star student, at least he used to be. Those climb the leader fast. He wasn’t even forty yet, his ginger hair hid possible grey hair very well. He was watching her with his intense blue eyes and almost never blinked. He waited for her to get everything out. Miranda hated those stories. Repeating them again always made her feel crazy. She probably was.

“It’s complicated. I will try to make it short.” Now, Miranda, where is your hate for beating around the bush, huh? Just tell the nice doctor you are a fucking madwoman.

The professor was silent. Waiting. Even sitting he was very tall, and she noticed his fingers being thin and bony, just like his whole appearance.

“I have a problem. I’ve seen tons of shrinks about it already. Most of them gave up on me or drugged me to no avail. The thing is I have this weird… I don’t know… Phobia. Causing me panic attacks, crippling me.”

“That is not uncommon for deep fears,” said the professor. Miranda wondered how can shrinks be so calm. If someone told her they are crazy, she would probably joke about it right away.

“Yes, I know. I was told that hundred times already. There’s a catch.”

“Do tell.”

Miranda shuffled in her chair. No matter how many times she has talked about this it still made her uncomfortable and she felt like an idiot. But she had to fight this. Or she might…

“It’s ghosts. I panic around ghosts.”

The professor opened his mouth to say something, but Miranda quickly stopped him.

“No, I don’t believe in ghosts. That’s nonsense. I just call these things ghosts. It’s like… hallucination I keep having. They appear and it’s like someone caught my heart and pulled it out of my chest. I feel dead. I cannot move, I cannot act, think, anything. But according to all the doctors, I am sane.”

“When do these ghosts appear?” Professor didn’t even flinch. Nor blinked. He heard crazy talk daily why should she be any more interesting?

“They first appeared a little over a decade back. This is when the first attack happened. Then I got a charm, see?” She touched her necklace. Simple round silver ball that jingled softly when moved. “It keeps them away. When I take this off, I see them. I get attacked right away.”

“May I see?”

She held the pendant firmly. “Sorry, I don’t take it off on the first date.”

Her joke created tiny smile on his face. “Understandable.”

He asked more questions and she tried to answer as truthfully as her crime record allowed. By the end of the session she felt like dried out sponge.

“Don’t be afraid, miss Bradbury. We will figure this out,” professor said when she was leaving.

“Funny you say that. I can’t really feel the fear,” she smiled and that ended their first meeting.

***

Terry Borrows way lying in the hospital bed. They hit their head during the horrid night which caused a mild concussion. The doctors were also worried about their heart because it showed signs of arrythmia. It disappeared a day after the incident, but everyone was head over heels with this situation.

“They keep me here because they want to blame it on me,” wrote Terry to their friend. “Because they have nobody else for the murder.” Terry believed that. This wouldn’t be the first time Gotham has fucked them over. At least they survived. Witnessing murder first hand was like being sentenced to death.

So, they were bored on the hospital bed, half asleep, half awake, back hurting from cheap bedding. Eyes closing and opening again just to see how far the sun has moved or whether the food was ready.

Closing. Opening. The sun was setting.

Closing. Opening. Darkness.

Closing. Opening. Shadow.

Terry’s heart nearly stopped. They shouted by surprise. They are definitely going to die now!

“Terry Borrows,” said the shadow with a deep voice. “I have few questions for you.”

Terry was struck by fear. The rational part of their brain wanted to scream. They didn’t. They watched a man dressed as giant bat and their voice trembled.

“Y-yes?”

“What did you see at the crime scene?”

“I already told the police everything.” There was panic in their voice.

“Tell me.”

“There was a woman, she killed someone. She had some sort of mask. She… ah!”

The door opened. The nurse stepped between the doorframe, looked at Batman and then strategically left closing the door behind her. Terry swallowed a curse.

“Continue,” demanded Batman.

“The sound. It was the sound that made me faint.”

“What else can you remember?”

“The jingle. She was jingling like some fucking Christmas tree.”

“What about her movement?”

“What about it?” asked Terry. Batman just waited to let them figure out what he means. “I don’t know. I saw her just for a few seconds. She was hidden in the shadows.”

“Thank you, Terry.”

“You are welcome?” answered Terry unsurely. Then the door opened again, and doctor stormed in ready to shun the uninvited guest.

But he was already gone.

Chapter 2

#jonathan crane #batman #fanfic #writing #writeblr #ghosts of the past #sick raven writing

8 notes · View notes

mariposalass · 4 years

Text

Weird Candy Cane Tasting (Candy Canes)

Summary: Mari, Philip, Ron, and the Gru girls taste some weird tasting candy canes and their reactions to them are absolutely priceless.

Notes: My Day 3 entry for @silentlyfangirlingselfshipper’s A Very Shippy Christmas event with the theme of candy canes. It’s just a short drabble of Philip, Ron, Mari, Margo, Edith and Agnes trying out a plenty of weird candy cane flavors and the results are pretty awkward to put it nicely. Diabetics or people whose families have a medical history of diabetes should be careful in reading this: this might make you squick in horror with plenty of sugar involved.

Tags: a very shippy Christmas, Christmas, Defying Time, Renewed Potential, Weasley the King, Orphanage Sweethearts, candy canes, sugar time, warning: sugar intake, crossovers, fluff, weird candy cane flavors, chaos ensues, spicy flavors

Modern holiday traditions and trends both perplex and amaze Philip at the same time: for one, he is trying to wrap his head around with the whole celebration shindig that the people of the present day are raving about, but on the same note, he’s quite intrigued by their interest in keeping the holiday spirit alive and well. After all, in his old timeline, there were simpler times then and sometimes using candles on trees might sound like a bad idea in hindsight.

It was a calm normal day in the shopping mall when he becomes all too curious about candy canes in general: he, Ron, and Mari were accompanying Margo, Edith, and Agnes at the mall while the girls’ parents, Gru and Lucy, are on a complicated and hard mission for the AVL at the moment. Mari doesn’t think letting the Minions to after the girls will stay as a good idea so she has Philip and Ron to help her out in the event of Edith and Agnes get lost; Margo, she knows, can look after her when solo, so she isn’t too hard to handle. They were passing by a nearby candy chop when he stopped to see what is available for the season: among the sweets being sold were candy canes of various colors, flavors, and manufacturers, and, since he’s fully aware of Edith and Agnes having a sweet tooth and mainly out of curiosity over the candy canes, he brought this up to them, and the response is mixed to say the least.

“We’re going to get CANDY CANES today!?!” Agnes shirked in happiness upon hearing his words.

“This is so awesome,” Edith happily gasped, her jaws feeling like they’re dropping onto the ground.

“Philip, you know that my sisters can be handful at times if they are anywhere near sugar, right?” Margo asked in concern, she wasn’t too crazy over sweets unlike her sisters though she loves to get some once in a while.

“Well, I...”

“Errr… Won’t the girls’ parents get mad at us for bringing them to the candy store without them knowing?” Ron brought up a big concern to his friend’s sister’s boyfriend while they look at Agnes and Edith jumping around in excitement.

“Can we go inside the store now, PLEASE!!!” the 2 younger girls pleaded, puppy dog eyes widen to get some sympathy.

“Do we have a choice?” Ron asked Mari.

“Don’t get me wrong, Ron, I didn’t expect a candy store detour either, but… I didn’t want the girls to feel deprived of something they really want so much,” Mari mused on the thoughts before making her decision, “We can check out those candy canes Philip’s being talking about.”

“WHA-” Ron’s shock was cut off by a concerned Margo who then told him to bear with her sisters’ eagerness and Philip’s curiosity for a while, to which he reluctantly agreed.

The candy store is not heavily packed of customers when they got inside and the candy display is filled to the brim with all sorts of candies: lollipops, gummi candies, gum drops, candy tapes, and, the candy of the day, candy canes. Ron’s thoughts soon turned from worry to amazement as the contents inside are starting to remind him of the Honeydukes candy shop back in Hogsmeade, temptation is creeping upon him but he is smart enough not to let animal instinct to go nuts in a candy store. One of the staff, a store clerk, running the store saw them coming in along with a few more customers from outside and had offered them candy canes, chopped into bite sized pieces, for any customer to try out. The pieces range in color and flavor, but who knows what the latter would taste like unless you try it yourself. People soon grabbed some of the pieces and popped in their mouths, trying to savor them as humanely as possible, though some people aren’t so lucky in picking the flavors in hindsight.

Mari randomly popped in a yellow/white stripped piece which she though would be lemon, but it turns out to be Mac and Cheese, which is interesting in the mouth but not pleasant enough in candy form for the picky librarian. Ron had his eyes closed and doubt in his mind as he picked up a green and white colored candy cane piece and tasted it, only to gag on it a few seconds in and realized from the store clerk’s speedy answer that he had gotten pickle flavored candy cane. Shocked to discovered that his beloved Mari and Ron weren’t so lucky, Philip absentmindedly selected a gray black/white striped candy cane piece and, the minute he popped it into his mouth, he was horrified to discover that he had eaten a coal flavored candy cane.

“Oh dear Lord, what kind of blasphemy is this?” he gagged in between words as he raced to get water in the store.

“Well bloody hell! I didn’t expect pickles to be a thing in normal candies lately,” Ron gasped while trying to erase his mind of the dreadful pickle candy cane.

“It seems that my luck at the mac n cheese candy cane seems to look sane so far,” Mari nodded back as she turned to Margo, “Hey Margo, what’s that candy cane piece you have going to taste like?”

“Hopefully it doesn’t taste like soap,” the eldest Gru sister sighed, holding onto a brown and beige piece of candy cane before she dropped it into her mouth then began to grimace at the taste of it, “Hmm… Tastes so bitter and so unpleasant… Huh?!? I got Coffee! Dad & Mom wouldn’t ever give me, Edith, and Agnes that as long as we all live.”

“What the-” Mari was panicking at the words her cousin spoke when Edith grabbed onto some light green candy cane pieces.

“Eh, they’re just candy, guys! Besides, how bad those green things I have now can be?” she innocently asked everyone as she tossed the candy pieces onto her mouth before her face started to cringe at the first taste and began to pant her tongue much faster than a dehydrated dog and began to scream in horror.

“Edith!” Margo cried as she did her best to comfort her sister in that dire moment when Mari picked up a box that featured the candy canes in the same color scheme as the ones Edith tasted and made a terrifying discovery, “It turns out Edith took some wasabi candy cane pieces without knowing that too much wasabi can mess up your tongue and taste buds.”

“Unbelievable!” Philip’s eyes widen in shock while drinking up the water from the water dispenser in the store and giving one more cup of water for Edith to drink from, “She didn’t even took a second look to be sure?”

But before anyone can give a conclusive answer, the most awkward and scariest of them all came when Agnes unsuspectingly took in some piece of chopped candy canes in a dazzling array of white, red, and green; it seems to look seasonal enough, right? Turns out that this was a bad idea in the end when her face slowly turned tomato red and began to cry profusely with tears running down her eyes. Margo was shocked that little Aggie had unwittingly eaten something her little body isn’t ready to feast on yet, so she and Edith (after recovering from her wasabi candy cane nightmare) ran up to her and did their best to calm her and make sure that everything will be fine.

Mari, after being given the location of the water dispenser from Philip, headed for the said water dispenser, took a cup, filled it with water, and ran back to Agnes who took the cup from her and began to drink all the water very fast with no second thoughts. Once Agnes finally regained control of herself, everyone had a sigh of relief, though this whole candy cane tasting shenanigans did taught everyone in the store.

“You know something?” Mari spoke to her friends as they left the candy store, still dazed from the events that had transpired there, “Sometimes, you can’t always successfully re-invent the wheel and expect great success from it. And candy flavors are no exceptions.”

“I agree, Mari,” Ron noted it, “They’re just like Bertie Botts’ Every Flavour Beans back home, you never know what kind of flavor your mouth is going to get until it goes inside, and the results can be very weird.”

“Absolutely on point, Ronald,” Philip nodded back, “I still don’t understand why some of those people thought it was a good idea to experiment with those kinds of flavors, even if they’re not that bad with the actual food they’re based on.”

“Well, Philip, that’s the crazy world of modern candy making to you,” Margo sighed, “Sometimes, it’s best to stick with the classics, especially during the holidays.”

The End

8 notes · View notes

jae-canikeepyou · 5 years

Text

| marked | j.jh | ch. five

genre: superpower!au

a/n: news flash that the characters are all 97 liners bc yes i’m a sucker for them. also! i forgot to post this yesterday hahaha. this chapter is shorter than most ones i’ve written in this series. 👀 hope you enjoy reading~

“the news immediately spread to the world. the boy and girl were identified as ‘marked’.” chanyeol started, without realizing your reaction.

silence filled the room, the revelation came. the answer you were looking for came. that was today. that was now. you didn’t know what to feel. you possessed the power of death inducement. the truth hurt, that fact was indeed true. your heart tugged strings of despair, anger and confusion. you knew they were talking about you. you knew that. jaehyun heard your thoughts. he was hurt too.

the bell rang, indicating that the lesson of the first hour ended. chanyeol, gongchan and wheein smiled in pain as they left. they didn’t want to shock you with bad news, but they had no choice. the truth will eventually come out, whether you liked it or not.

you bent your head, little sobs escaped your lips. jaehyun approached you with a hug but you refused. “you don’t have to face it alone.” he patted your head. “we’re in this together.”

he tried to comfort you but you had no way of letting him do so. your behavior ticked him off. his ear evident of disbelief. he wondered why you wouldn’t try understand see the bright side. your mind filled with darkness had no gaps for him to let him through.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“ah the lessons were repetitive. can’t we do something more challenging?” a slouchy seokmin complained.

“why’re you complaining?” eunha asked. “i had sit for two hours just to get my power in precision.”

“why’re you complaining too? i had improve how i transition from water to air. i tell you it’s so complicated doing it within five seconds.”

“i pity you three. all i did was to improve the speed of my teleportation.” eunwoo laughed, but that was short-lived when he heard thumps from the classroom next door.

mina tagged along shortly after the others teased each other. they went to your classroom for a short break, maybe planned to have snack at the cafeteria. but even before they could enter, they heard you and jaehyun, arguing. the window showed the both of you with huge gestures.

“no one would grieve for a marked even if we’re ever to disappear from this world! we were marked before we became absolutes!” you stood up. jaehyun jolted at your sudden comment.

“y/n what’re talking about? there’s still meaning to the existence we have! we have to learn to control that power! you’re really overthinking!” jaehyun’s words of hope did nothing on you.

“ha! you’re crazy if you’re seriously too positive and appreciative in that thought.” you scoffed, your hands rested on your hip as you walked back and forth.

“fine by me if you don’t agree! i’m just being a nice friend who even has the heart to comfort you.” jaehyun ran his fingers through his hair. “ah i’m going crazy.”

“yeah and too many people i’ve run into doesn’t agree in everything i do.” you faked a laugh, still not believing of the revelation. “must be nice to possess the power of life, huh? you won’t have to worry about the lives you’ve taken because what, you have the audacity to bring them bac-”

you felt your body being shoved to the wall. the pain hit your back hurt more than the lessons did. there were arms wrapped by your chest, causing you to struggle to move. jaehyun has you locked between the wall and himself. “you’re making me look like a bad guy here.” he spoke in a low tone. his eyes met yours and for the first time you felt scared of someone’s anger. “get in your head that it’s not only you who had a rough childhood. so stop victimizing yourself.”

“you heard wheein. one of us is the yin and one is the yang. clearly you can categorize us with the concept.” you tried to push him away but he was stronger, stronger than was when you battled him in the hall.

he clicked his tongue as he let you go. you dusted your clothes irritably, eyeing his next move, but he just sat there.

“i’ve had my palms stained with my family and friends’ demise too. you may think having the power of life is great, well you’re wrong.” his voice grew softer. “my village was one of those involved and victimized in the battle with the neighboring country. the bombs from the planes came down, my ears bled that i couldn’t hear any of the chaos. i was close to dying too; then i awoke from my unconscious state. my family and friends died in front of me. i shook them, hoping they would breathe again. they did as i touched them. but when they saw me, they didn’t know me, like i was erased from their lives.”

his words hit you like you were slapped in the face hundred times. a growing guilt had built up inside you. how could you be so inconsiderate where you jumped to conclusions about a person’s life you barely known? why did you let anger get into you? negativity got you good that you were blinded to see jaehyun’s kindness over your history.

“sure i brought them to life. yet i realized i indirectly killed them, not physically but mentally. every single soul i’ve touched or known, never knew me. so i was left alone, for another five years. i got found by the core, but i never made friends. i actually thought that since i was already alone, it’s more peaceful than where it’s chaotic outside. i never left my room.” his voice came to a halt. you stared at him for a while before seeing his sleeves damped with tears.

your friends came in as they witnessed the whole thing. all speechless and worried. they couldn’t figure what they’d do. the both of you had swollen eyes and pink cheeks. breaths were heaving heavily. none uttered a word. the boys approached jaehyun while the girls hugged you.

jaehyun brushed off the arms that reached for him. “sorry guys. i need some time alone. don’t come looking for me.”

“jaehyun.” eunwoo called out, but the brown-haired boy didn’t bother to look back.

you were left there. abandoned all over again. that feeling came, and you didn’t like it. the only one who could actually relate to you chose to leave because of your outburst, because of your conceited mind.

people have said, “what you see influences what you hear, and what you hear influences what you see.” you need both to have a conscious experience, in unison.

but right now? both absolutes weren’t working together at all.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

| marked — chapter five: HIStory |

#nct 127 #nct #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #jaehyun nct #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun marked series

33 notes · View notes

thirstygirlclub · 5 years

Text

New Years Day - Juice x Reader

To Listen While Reading:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JNQlkl8EHBI

Speed 0.75=

Something my angel, @samcro-saint99, and I wrote for you all! Pretend this was up at the right time!! I had so much fun collaborating and I’m not sure why it took so long for us to do it. Look forwards to many more in the future I’m sure!

This is based on the song “New Years Day” by Taylor Swift which is a song I had never heard before we started writing this but now I can’t stop listening to it. Crazy, huh?

We really hope you love this as much as we do! Have a great rest of the year my angels and look after yourselves.

Love, Doe xxxx

You tiptoed carefully through the carnage of the night before, Juice holding your hand tightly as he leads you outside. He pointed, snickering, at a passed out Tig whose hands were covered in the varying colors of glitter he had been throwing the night before. It had been fun at the time; making the night seem magical, but now all you could think of was how hard it was going to be to clean up and to get out of your hair and clothes. You couldn’t help noticing the specks of dark blue shining through your friend's hair and dusting the shoulders of his kutte.

Your feet splashed through the puddles of spilled beer and crunched over stubbed out cigarette ends as you stepped over a snoring Bobby still in his Elvis wig and costume although he was looking slightly worse for wear than when you had last seen him. The Croweaters that had roused at the same time you had, slipped out from the arms of various men and picked through the people, looking for lost shoes and possessions but ultimately gave up and left without them. You winced when you saw their bare feet walking over the rough concrete of the forecourt and out the gate. You were thankful you chose more sensible shoes than skyscraper heels that had little to no comfort in them at all.

The sunrise had cast a faintly orange glow over the forecourt and Juice’s face. His eyes were closed and he took a breath of the fresh January air; clearing any trace of drunken fog that may have been clouding his thoughts before his eyes fixed on your face with that warm smile he seemed to always have, saved just for you.

Grabbing the first rung of the ladder, Juice placed his hand protectively on your back as you began to climb, with him following close behind. Walking over, you sat on the edge of the roof, overlooking the forecourt, Juice sitting beside you, leaving a small distance between you both. You turned to look at him, into his deep, brown eyes. You felt your cheeks grow warm as images flashed across your mind from the night before.

The countdown has begun, cheerful bodies buzzing around you, electricity in the air.

5…

Juice reached out and took your hand.

4…

You looked up at him, both smiling widely from the energy of the night.

3…

The distance between you closed.

2…

Your faces, inches apart, you could feel his breath on your face.

1…

As the cheers rung out around you, he pulled you close to him, as Tig showered glitter upon you all. And you were kissing how a drowning person would breathe - suddenly you’d discovered something that you never knew could be so sweet before that very moment.

You pulled apart and stared at each other momentarily, almost as if in shock, before you were interrupted by New Years hugs from the other sons, except for Tig who, as always, expected a kiss.

Brought back to the present as Juice reached out and took your hand in his, you smiled reassuringly as he gently squeezed your hand three times. You don’t know where it had come from or why that was the signal that he had something he needed to say or at least get off his chest. Perhaps it had started when he was around the guys and felt too uncertain to say something in front of them; signaling that he needed to speak with you alone because somehow you just seemed to understand what he needed. You knew he struggled.

He loved the club more than anything in the world; they were his family. But sometimes it was too much for him, and there are things he just couldn't tell them. It wasn’t because he didn’t trust them or that he didn’t think they would understand. It was just that you understood better. You were the person that would accept him no matter what, whether he helped the club or complicated something for them because you weren’t invested like they were. You were the person that was there just for him.

“Are you trying to apologize for trying to slip me the tongue during our kiss last night? Like, Tig tried to as well, but I’d be worried if he didn't” you joked light-heartedly, while your eyes searched his face for the answers you needed.

Juice laughed awkwardly, his head turning away from your gaze, his hand never let go of yours although now he was holding slightly tighter. Whether he realized or not you didn't know. His free hand came up to rub the back of his neck; causing some of that glitter to float dance in the light of the rising sun before disappearing into the morning breeze. He tutted quietly when he noticed it stuck to his palm but you never stopped looking at him. You needed to know his answer but he was obviously avoiding the subject.

Looking at the man in front of you, your heart filled with love, gratitude, and worry. He deserved the world. He deserved better and it killed you that he didn’t seem to realize that. He would take all of their jokes and all of the bad jobs without argument, never once uttering a word of complaint.

“Promise me you won’t be so hard on yourself this year, Juice….Please,” you begged sincerely.

Then those warm brown eyes looked back up at you and you knew he was telling you that he would try. But his head fell, he knew that he couldn’t promise.

You felt his hand tighten around yours, and you knew instantly that his head was flooding with those dark thoughts and voices, drowning out what made him the man he was.

“Hey...look at me. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.” you almost whispered, reaching out and placing your other hand under his chin, forcing him to look at you, to see the emotion in your eyes. The emotions you couldn’t speak. And to know that you meant every single word you had said.

Then his hand let go of yours slowly before his arm curled across your stomach and around your waist, burying his face into the warmth and security of your neck. You put your palm on the back of his neck to keep him close and rested your cheek against the top of his head. You ran your fingers softly through the short hair on his head and traced patterns over his skin under the neck of his kutte and t-shirt.

“I’m here. I’ve got you. It doesn’t matter what happens, baby boy. I’ll always be here. Always.” you reassured tenderly.

Your heart was filled with so much happiness and heaviness at the same time, as you held him against your chest, his warm breath calm and content against your skin. You loved him with everything that you were and would ever be, but you could never tell him - you couldn’t risk ruining what you had between the two of you. Once the words passed your lips, you could never take them back. And the thought of losing him scared you more than your worst nightmares as a child.

For those few precious moments, all was quiet, until the silence was broken.

“I love you,” Juice mumbled from your arms.

“I know Juice,” you chuckled lightly, feeling the familiar pang of guilt within your heart that always came with knowing he saw you as no more than a friend, “I love you too.”

The feeling of soft, fuzzy hair went over your cheek as he lifted his head from the comfort of your shoulder to look at you. It was the same way he had looked at you the night before, a matter of hours ago in fact, but he wasn’t drunk now and neither were you.

“Juice…”

But he shook his head slightly with his eyes never leaving yours.

“No...I love you, Y/N…” he stated as though it were an irrefutable fact, leaving no room for argument.

Maybe he had taken your baffled silence as a sign that you didn’t feel the same, or maybe the weight of his words and what they could have possibly done to your relationship had hit him suddenly. His arm slinked back towards his body and away from yours; leaving you cold without him holding you but he was still just as close. Or was he closer? Closer.

He loved you. The words spun through your mind, like the needle of a record player, playing the words over and over. I love you, I love you, I love you...You were speechless.

He loves me.

A teasing smirk curled at the edges of his lips as he ducked down to look into your face. The words still echoed but it was almost as if you couldn’t believe it. And his hand was on your cheek, his eyes flickering across your face with his usual humor reflecting in them.

“Well?” He prodded, “What do you say, Y/N?”

And you answered. With a small nod and a smile and the smallest, happy whimper that escaped your throat, you practically lunged at him; pressing your lips to his with a sense of urgency you had never felt before. It was the kiss of someone who had waited years for this exact moment, and who feared that it would never come again. You knew you would hold onto this memory forever. You would hold onto him...forever.

Your lips parting from his, you rested your head against his, the new sun shining in the space between your faces, casting a light glow on your smiles. Never in your wildest dreams could you ever imagine a moment more perfect than this, right now.

Sometimes though perfect moments are ruined by human nature, as you stifled a yawn. Your hand clapped over your straining mouth as Juice laughed and pulled you closer to kiss your forehead tenderly.

“I think someone needs sleep,” he chuckled against your skin.

“Only if you come too.” You bargained, finally letting out the yawn.

Together you climbed back down to reality, and carefully navigated the chaos inside the clubhouse, to find the apartment which was thankfully untouched. There was never any telling what the rooms would look like after a party.

You didn’t fight when Juice led you to his bed, just flopped down and kicked your shoes off as he stood by your side toeing off his boots. There was no awkwardness. You were both too tired for that. Then as soon as your head hit the pillow a breath of relief left your lips. He scooted next to you, rolling onto his side and wrapping his arm over your stomach and snuggling his face back into your shoulder but it wasn’t because he was overcome by the heartbreak this time. This time he was happy. He was so happy that he had finally admitted how he felt and you had accepted him, as you always did, and even kissed him back. You felt the same.

It felt so natural, his arms around you, holding tight. Of course, you had slept together at night before, but this time was so much different. It was something new. It was the future.

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy x reader #juice ortiz #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz headcanon #a collaboration of minds #samcro-saint99

164 notes · View notes

selfignitingimagines · 5 years

Text

Theo Raeken- I’ll Be Good

A/N- So yeah, this is something I really wanted to try. I know you guys are used to a different style from me but I wanted to challenge myself. I think Theo has a lot of potential as a character and I really enjoyed writing this. It’s also up on my wattpad. Let me know what you guys think if you want!

Lillian Waters was fighting a losing battle.

She never planned to die while wrestling for a gun on the floor of a deserted hospital with a man a hundred pounds heavier than her. She had planned to be old and decrepit, and die from being too lazy to do cardio in her prime. Now she had already been shot once, and if he managed to get her a second time, it looked like she wouldn’t get the chance to.

The whole reason she had gotten into this mess was because her friends had been in danger, and probably still were, but now so was she.

She grappled for the gun, but it was slick with her own blood, and Monroe’s hunter was much stronger than her. It didn’t help that the gunshot wound in her leg was bleeding heavily, making her weaker by the second.

She grunted in frustration, knowing that if she didn’t fight she would die, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this up. As if he had read her mind, the Hunter suddenly jerked the gun out of her hands, aiming it toward her chest. She gasped and reared up, trying to push it away even though she knew she wouldn’t be fast enough.

A sickening crack hit her ears as the gun went off, and sparks danced before her eyes, but the bright light quickly faded. Suddenly everything was dim, but not dark, and she realized the hunter was no longer above her, but lying on the floor instead. His brown eyes bored into hers, empty and cold, but he made no move to hurt her any longer. His neck was bent at an odd angle, and it took her a lot longer than it should have to realize he was dead.

She let out a choked breath, trying to think through the fog of pain and weakness the wound in her leg had brought. She reached up with a trembling, bloody hand, feeling the rest of her body and finding that she wasn’t injured anywhere else. She had heard the gun go off, but the bullet had missed her. Judging by the dim light in the hallway of the hospital, he had probably missed and hit one of the fluorescent lights instead. But why did he miss in the first place?

A shadow fell over her, and she glanced up to find a broad-shouldered figure standing over her. Theo Raeken stared down at her, and if she wasn’t mistaken, she saw concern on his face. She scrambled back, knowing that if he tried anything she wouldn’t be able to defend herself, but simply he held up his hands. “Easy. I snapped his neck. You’re safe.”

“The others,” she choked. “Liam, Scott, the Hunters-”

“It’s over,” Theo told you. “They found the Anukete. Scott won.”

She nodded dumbly, and Theo knelt down beside her. He reached out, but she flinched back, not sure yet whether she could trust him or not. He blinked, looking almost embarrassed as she shied away from his touch.

“It hurts, right?” he asked.

She nodded, and before she could stop him, he placed his hand on her knee, just above the wound. “What are you-”

She gasped, and her body sagged in relief as he took her pain away. He gritted his teeth, feeling everything she had, but he didn’t pull away until his veins ran black with all he could take. She let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of everything that had happened crash down on her all at once.

“Come on,” she heard Theo say, but his voice was distant. “I’m getting you help.”

She felt him pull her onto her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist in support. She took a few unsteady steps, but she barely made it halfway down the hall before she sagged against his warm side.

“Lillian,” you heard him warn, but she was fading too fast. Nevermind that this was Theo Raeken, the boy who had once tried to kill her and her friends. He had saved her life, and he had taken her pain away. And he was the only thing she could think of as she slipped into the darkness.

“...should be waking up any minute now. Whenever she’s ready, she can press that call button and I’ll be back in with the doctor.”

“She’s going to be okay, right? You’re sure?”

“Well she does have a gunshot wound, so there could always be complications, but-”

“Complications? Like what?”

“Infection, nerve damage, that kind of thing. As long as she takes it easy and comes back for her follow ups, she should be fine. And with a boyfriend like you to keep an eye on her, I’m sure she’s in good hands.”

“She...she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Oh sorry. Family?”

“No. We’re...it’s kind of complicated.”

“Oh. Well, just press that button if she needs anything.”

She woke up to the voices, murky and confusing in her ears. They stopped before she found the strength to open her eyes, but when she did, she saw a blurry figure rise from a chair by her bedside.

“Theo?”

He paused as he headed toward the door, turning around and glancing at her.

“Where are you going?” she asked groggily.

“Scott and the others are on their way,” he told you, avoiding the question. “You don’t need me here.”

“Wait,” she told him, trying to pull herself up into a sitting position. “You don’t have to...Theo you saved my life.”

He shrugged. “Figured I owed you.”

“For what?”

“For that night with the Ghost Riders. And for everything I did. To you, to the others. I don’t think I could ever make up for it, but at least I tried with you.”

He turned away, stepping toward the door. “Feel better, Y/n.”

He reached for the handle, but she called out to him. “Theo, don’t go.”

He blinked, looking back at her with raised eyebrows. She blushed. “I...I can barely tell you where I am right now. Can you at least stay until the others get here?”

Theo’s lips twitched. “You sure? You’re not afraid I’m going to poison your IV or anything?”

“Doesn’t really seem like your style,” she commented, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m trying out some new things,” he said with a shrug.

“Like saving lives instead of ruining them?”

He tilted his head as his lips twitched. “Exactly.”

A warm smile came across her face. “I think you’re doing pretty good so far.”

Theo swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable. “I think I should leave before Scott gets here.”

“Theo, I’m sure he’d understand-”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I probably won’t be in Beacon Hills for much longer anyway.”

“Oh,” she said softly, running a hand through her tangled hair as best she could. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Good luck then. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“Yeah,” he told her. “Me too.”

But he knew, as he walked out of the room and shut the door, that what he was looking for was directly behind him.

-----

As it turned out, Theo didn’t end up leaving Beacon Hills, and he wasn’t living in his truck anymore.

Scott had come to him one night, knocking on his window in an empty grocery store parking. To Theo’s surprise, he offered him a place to stay, a loft apartment at the same complex Derek owned. He guessed it was partly so they could keep an eye on him. He also suspected Lillian had something to do with it.

He had made a mental note to avoid any and all interaction with everyone in Scott’s pack. He didn’t want to cause trouble, and he was pretty sure they all hated him anyway. But when he saw her, he just couldn’t help it.

Sometimes he would think about that night in the hospital with her and Liam, and he wanted to ask about it, but he never seemed to be able to. She had jumped in front of him, knowing he would wonder why, and said simply “You’re stronger.”.

He happened to run into her a lot. Every so often, he would catch a flash of her dark hair through the window of the coffee shop where she worked. He couldn’t resist going in and seeing the excited look in her eyes as he walked through the door, jingling the little bell at the top.

Then she would flush and look down, smiling at him softly before she went back to taking an order.

“Caffeine doesn’t work on you, does it?” she had asked one day. “Just like alcohol.”

She was handing him a small cup of coffee from across the counter. Her hair was up in a messy bun that day, with curly tendrils trailing past her ears. It had been a slow morning, and no one was listening, and he supposed she decided it was safe to satisfy her curiosity.

Theo had smiled. “No. It doesn’t.”

“So why do you come here?” she asked quizzically. “Why waste your money on coffee?”

“I mean, I do drink it.”

“So that’s why you get the girly drinks,” she said with a grin. “Is that the only reason you come here? For a mediocre mocha latte? Or do you come here to check up on me?”

Theo shrugged. “Well, after passing out into my arms you can’t expect me to believe you can handle things on your own.”

She snorted, wiping her hands on her apron. “I handled things just fine before you came along. I smashed a vase over a kanima’s head. And for the record I did not pass out in your arms at the hospital. I was falling, and you happened to grab me before I hit the ground.”

“You sure about that? If I remember correctly, you were totally delirious. You might be getting some of the details mixed up.”

She eyed him with sharp brown eyes, but her smile was playful. “Why are you up so early anyway? It’s seven am.”

“The Sheriff sort of offered me a job.”

Her eyebrows rose. “As a deputy?”

Now it was Theo’s turn to scoff. “No. Fixing some things around the station. Turns out I’m pretty good with my hands.”

She smiled. “Huh. Who knew?”

“Stiles isn’t too happy about it.”

She had rolled her eyes, and shaken her head. “He’s an idiot. You’re an extra line of defense in case something goes wrong. With everything that’s happened at the station, he should be grateful.”

“I think he’s under the impression that I’m going to be the thing going wrong.”

“Then he’s mistaken,” she informed him haughtily.

Theo swallowed, feeling his heart contract at the conviction in her tone. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and even with the ugly brown apron, she looked fierce.

“Thanks for the pep talk,” he told her, trying to keep himself from stammering. “I should probably get going.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Don’t want to be late on your first day. It is your first day, right?”

He nodded. “Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow, if Stiles doesn’t run me over with his jeep.”

She laughed. “He’d have to get it started first. You’re gonna do great, Theo.”

A voice came from the back room before he could respond.

` “Hey, Y/n! Can you come help me with this box?!”

Lillian turned to him and smiled. “I’ll see you later?”

He nodded, tightened his grip on his coffee, and walked out the door.

-----

Had she just given a pep talk to Theo Raeken?

That’s what she was was thinking as she walked into the back, until she saw her coworker Georgie, struggling to pull a large box from the backdoor.

“Oh shit,” Lillian swore, rushing over. “You should have waited for me. You’ll hurt your back like that.”

She went around to the other side of the box, placing her hands on it. “You pull, I push?”

Georgie nodded. “You’d think the delivery guy would at least bring the food into the building.”

Her voice had the slight lilt of an accent. Georgie was from Guatemala, although she had moved to Hill Valley, the next town over, when she was eight. Like Lillian, she was going to the community college in Beacon Hills, so having a job there too just made sense. That was how they had met. She had also been in her stats class last spring.

“I might as well live here,” she had commented one day.

“Trust me,” Lillian had told her. “You don’t.”

Once they had maneuvered the box into the store room, Georgie straightened up. Lillian kicked the box lightly. “Who knew frozen danishes were this fucking heavy?”

“Clearly not the delivery guy. So who was tall, dark, and handsome out there? He comes in, like, everyday.”

“Just someone I knew in high school,” Lillian told her.

Georgie hmmed. “From the way he looks at you, I doubt he’s just anybody.”

Lillian sighed. “His name is Theo. But there’s nothing going on between us.”

She was met with a skeptical look, and she sighed. “It can’t happen. And I wouldn’t want it to.”

“Well,” Georgie said, tying up her long, black hair into a ponytail. “I guess that’s good news, considering that cute guy at table five has been eyeing you since we opened.”

“The blonde one?”

“Yep. You should get his number.”

Lillian flushed immediately. “I-I don’t want to date. I haven’t dated anyone since high school.”

“So now is the perfect time!”

It was true she had been in a few brief relationships in high school, with Isaac Lahey being the longest. After she had realized he was really interested in Allison, their four month fling ended, and there had been no one since. She was secretly grateful he had disappeared off to France, because confronting the awkwardness of that situation was something she had never gotten around to doing.

After that, dating someone who wasn’t involved with the supernatural seemed incredibly complicated. She had no desire to put someone she cared about in danger, and if she didn’t care for them, what was the point?

“I don’t know,” Lillian admitted. “What if he wasn’t looking at me? What if I go over there and I look like a freak?”

Georgie shrugged. “Do it casually.”

“How?”

She huffed. “Like, go over there and ask if he’s finished with his plate. He had one of those awful scones.”

“So what does that say about him?” Lillian asked, raising an eyebrow at her friend. “Anyone who likes those is insane.”

“Jesus Christ, Lillian,” Georgie muttered with a roll of her eyes. “The type of breakfast item he chooses does not reflect the type of person he is. Go talk to him or I’ll do it for you. Unless you are holding out for that guy who came in earlier…”

“No!” Lillian hissed. “I’ll do it.”

She turned on her heel and walked to the front of the store. The guy at table five looked up and met her eyes. He was cute, just as Georgie had said, with neatly trimmed dirty-blonde hair. His eyes were a warm hazel color, and they sort of crinkled at the edges when he smiled.

As welcoming as he looked, Lillian froze in a panic, but just then, the bell on the door jingled, and about six people entered. She sighed in relief, and popped her head back into the store room. “The eight o’clock rush is here.”

Georgie eyed her suspiciously as she tightened her apron and came to the front. “You are so lucky that just happened.”

Lillian shrugged at her, and turned toward the first customer, a short, tired looking man in a crumpled suit. “What can I get for you?”

-----

“You make a killer caramel macchiato.”

Lillian’s head popped up from where she had been cleaning under the counter. The morning rush was over, so it was time to prepare for the lunch crowd. To her surprise, it was the guy Georgie had pointed out.

He was leaning on the counter with his cup in his hand. His mouth was pulled up at one corner in a sort of half smile, and the thought briefly crossed her mind that he seemed a little shy.

“Oh thanks,” she said awkwardly, swiping at her cheek. She was pretty sure she had smeared coffee grounds on herself by accident.

“Oh, here,” the guy said, swiping a few napkins from the holder on the counter.

He reached out to wipe the spot from her cheek, and she flushed furiously.

“Sorry,” he said with a nervous laugh. “That was probably super weird of me.”

“No, it’s fine,” she said with a smile.

She glanced over her shoulder to see if Georgie was still refilling the cabinets behind her. Coincidentally, she had slipped into the back as soon as the guy reached for a napkin.

“I’m Lyle,” he introduced. “I didn’t mean to be weird, I’ve just never actually had coffee this good.”

Her smile widened. “Well, I’ve had lots of practice. I’m-”

“Lillian,” he finished for her.

She tilted her head, a little bit startled, and he pointed to her nametag. She laughed softly. “Sometimes I forget about that. I’m glad you liked it.”

“I was wondering,” he began nervously. “If maybe I could repay you by buying you some? I mean, I could try to make it, but that might be a disaster…”

Lillian flushed. He was trying to ask her out, and that hadn’t happened to her in a very long time. So long, that she was surprised when she found herself saying yes.

“Really?” he asked, immediately going red. “Uh, that would be great! Are you free tonight? Maybe we could go out after you get off.”

“Yeah,” she told him brightly. “I’d love to.”

-----

Lillian had just thrown off her apron when her phone rang. She took a seat on one of the empty crates in the store room, and sighed.

“What’s up, Stiles?”

“This is all your fault,” he immediately accused.

“Stiles, I’m on my break,” she groaned, knowing at once what he was talking about.

“Theo saved your life. You vouched for him. Now he’s right next to my dad for eight hours a day!”

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t die,” she snapped.

Stiles softened. “Lil, you know that’s not what I mean. After everything Theo’s done, I don’t want him anywhere near anyone we care about. You included.”

“He wouldn’t do anything to me,” she concluded. “He saved my life. Don’t you think that would have been a little counterproductive if he was planning to hurt me?”

“He could be manipulating you. Think about it! Theo saves your life, making you swoon-”

“Woah, I am not swooning,” she protested.

“I meant that would have been his plan!”

“Stiles,” she said firmly. “I think Theo’s accepted that he lost. He’s different, okay? And he just wants to be normal. Besides, if something does happen, he’s going to protect your dad.”

“How do you know that?” Stiles demanded.

“Because he protected me. And he’d do the same thing for him.”

“I still don’t like it,” Stiles grumbled. “I need a favor from you.”

“Can’t you ask Lydia?” she asked with a groan.

“It has to be you. Theo likes you. He always has.”

“So?”

“So I need you to keep an eye on him. I’m not there to do it, otherwise I wouldn’t ask.”

“I am not spying on Theo!”

“I don’t want you to spy. I just mean that if anyone can keep him in check, it’s you.”

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone and let me enjoy my break?”

“Is that a yes?”

Lillian huffed. “Yes.”

“Okay, have a good break!”

He ended the call, and Lillian slid her phone back into her pocket with a frown. “All ten minutes I have left of it,” she muttered to herself.

-----

“Are you sure you don’t need help with anything?” Georgie asked, shrugging on her jacket.

“I was sure the last three times you asked,” Lillian told her. “Go home. You have a test tomorrow. All I have to do is take the trash out anyway.”

“You’re the one who should be leaving early. You have a date tonight. Besides, we’re supposed to close up together.”

Lillian shrugged, and reached forward to turn off the bright fluorescent OPEN sign above the front door. “We’re already closed.”

Georgie grinned as Lillian reached forward and help open the door for her. “Go.”

“You’re crazy,” she said, as she walked out the door. For Georgie, that was the closest thing she could get to an “I love you.”.

After Lillian had locked the door behind her, she had collected both huge bags of trash and walked them out to the dumpster.

As she hauled them out, she glanced up above her. The night was warm and clear, and the stars were bright and shining above her. She let out a content sigh, letting herself relax for the first time all day.

That was when she heard a sound behind her, causing her to tense up. She turned around quickly, glancing down the alley behind her, but no one was there. It had sounded like footsteps, but maybe she had been mistaken.

When she turned back to the dumpster, someone was standing in front of her, causing her to shriek and drop the garbage bags.

“Shit, sorry.”

Theo was standing there, holding up his hands in a gesture that was meant to be non-threatening.

“Theo!” she snapped. “What the hell?”

“I would have gone through the front, but the lights were already out. I thought I missed you.”

“So you sneak up on me in an alley?”

“I thought if I called out to you it would scare you.”

She looked at him sharply, but then she sighed. “We’ve gotta work on your lurking problem.”

“We?’ he asked, reaching down to grab the bags by her feet.

“You could use some work on the whole human thing,” she observed.

“I thought I was doing pretty good,” he told her with a wink, as he tossed the bags into the dumpster. “Did you want to give me those humanity lessons tonight, or…?”

“I, uh, I can’t tonight,” she told him.

“Hanging out with Lydia?”

“No, actually. I have a date.”

Theo’s face went from playful to an expression she couldn’t read. “Oh. Do I know this guy?”

She shook her head. “I met him at work today.”

Theo tilted his head. “Was he that blonde guy sitting in the corner this morning?”

Lillian’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe.”

“I saw him staring at you.”

“And?” she demanded. “Is that a crime?”

“No,” Theo said plainly. “I just didn’t like the vibe he gave me.”

She scoffed. “Come on-”

“I’m serious,” he continued. “Do you need me to follow you?”

She shot him an incredulous look, but he was absolutely serious. “No, Theo. Why would you even want to do that?”

“I owe you,” he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

“For what?” she asked. “You saved my life, not the other way around.”

“I know you talked Scott into helping me.”

She was silent for a few moments, and she knew he could probably hear her heart pounding. “I don’t know what you’re-”

“Save it. I know what you did, and I owe you for it. I don’t care what Scott and the others think. Until I pay you back for that, you’re not getting rid of me.”

“Theo,” she said softly, but before she could continue he cut her off.

“Enjoy your date.”

His tone was short as he turned his back on her, heading down the alley with his hands shoved into his pockets. She stood there after he had gone, shook her head in disbelief, and walked back into the coffee shop.

She wasn’t sure, but she knew there might be more to this than just Theo feeling like he owed her something. Judging by the look on his face when she told him she was going on a date, he seemed like he was jealous. As she walked back inside, she wasn’t sure she minded.

#teen wolf imagines #selfignitingimagines #theo raeken imagines #teen wolf

59 notes · View notes