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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 5 years

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You’ve Got Mail: Jungkook One Shot

Request: Hi! I really love your writings! If your requests are still open, can you pls write a Jungkook story? Ex-lovers in high school where he broke up with her because he got bored or something like that. Then they met again in university and wants her back again. (Angst but happy ending pls). Thank you!

Description: After a messy breakup with high school heartthrob Jeon Jungkook, you swore off dating once you got into college. Even though it left you lonely, it was easier than being hurt. But one fateful blind date changes everything for you, and you realize that maybe isolation isn’t the answer either.

Word Count: 12.9k

Pairing: Jungkook x (gender neutral) Reader

Tags: Barista!Reader, Graphic Design Student!Jungkook, Non-Idol!Au, Ex-Lovers to Enemies to Lovers (? I guess? Haha)

Genre: Whole lotta angst, fluffy ending

Warnings: None!

A/N: It’s been two weeks since I’ve posted wtf!! But I’m back and less than a week away from the Rose Bowl concert, holy cow. This ask has been in my inbox for MONTHS, so I need to say thank you to the anon who sent it for waiting so long! I really enjoyed this request, so I hope you guys like it too!

Also, if you want to follow me on Twitter please do so! My handle is @/plzpunchmebts. I would post a link, but rumor has it Tumblr killed links and I’m not taking any chances. I’ll be posting concert videos and pics there, so please give it a follow if you’d like to see that!

- Mercury

You were never too keen on blind dates. Everything about them felt…artificial. It wasn’t that you were a romantic, not especially, but you had to admit that being forced on a date by meddlesome friends took some of the magic out of dating. When Sua had mentioned a cute new boy in her class who was too busy studying to date, you had to admit the red flags began waving in your mind. Of course, you could relate. College was taxing and it was difficult to find time to even eat three meals, let alone date. Perhaps if things had cropped up organically, you’d have been more excited. But the forced union was a little cumbersome.

The nerves and the insecurity and the fear, none of it was especially fun. But Sua had been adamant that the two of you would hit it off, and with her eyes round and expectant, her brows raised, and her lips pouted, you really didn’t have any room to deny her. You figured one night of discomfort was better than months of guilt, and even though you figured things wouldn’t work out with this mystery man, you’d humor your friend. After all, making friends in college wasn’t easy.

Making friends in general wasn’t easy.

You sighed as you waited with your chilly hands clasped around your phone, standing at the entrance to the subway station where Sua had instructed. The mouth of the entrance was muggy with exiting passengers as the wave of people clambered up the steep stairs and onto the street, lined on all sides by buildings that reached the sky. Every now and again, someone would graze their shoulder against yours without apology, or perhaps step on the toe of your sneaker. You took a few inching steps backward, glancing over your shoulder to be sure you wouldn’t hit anyone. Not that they’d care. You backed up until you were out of the streamline and instead took up a quieter spot beside a fish cake vendor.

You checked your phone once again, furrowing your brow. Sue said eleven, didn’t she? You pulled up your messages and scrolled through carefully, head tilted to the side as you read her most recent text.

Sua: He said he’s running a little late, but he told me to tell you to wait.

You: I am waiting…

Sua: He says he’s sorry and that the subway is close to the terminal now.

You: That’s good.

Sua: He says sorry again.

Sua: You know, this is kinda dumb. Let me just give you his number so you can text him.

Sua: 51-XXX-XX24

You pursed your lips and crossed your arms over your chest. Sua was right, anyway. Making her your proxy wouldn’t really do you much good, considering she wasn’t here to help you in person. But wouldn’t it be a bit forward to just…text this guy? You didn’t know him yet. And besides, what could you say that Sua hadn’t? Hey, I’m doing this out of obligation, sorry to disappoint! or you can just go back home now and we can tell Sua things didn’t work out. You shook your head and rubbed your fingertip along the screen of your phone, working your lower lip between your teeth. You were just looking for an out. And really, you didn’t want to bail after Sua had gone through the trouble of setting things up. Still, just texting a stranger was a little…

But then again, he’d agreed to the blind date too, hadn’t he? It wasn’t like you were someone he was forced to talk to. He’d come on his own accord. Rubbing your bare forearm in the spring breeze with one hand, you used the other to tap the phone number and save it and, with only your index finger, drafted a slow message.

You: Hey, I’m Sua’s friend. I think we’re supposed to have a blind date today? Haha. That sounded kind of awkward…

Within seconds, your phone dinged with an incoming text and you jumped, nervous, before glancing at your phone once more.

Blind Date: Oh! Haha, hello. It wasn’t awkward at all. Ahh, I’m really sorry I’m late. I wasn’t looking where I was going and I bumped into a cyclist and he gave me an earful so I missed the first subway.

Blind Date: But I’m one stop away! You’re outside exit 2 right?

You: Yeah! I’m next to a fish cake stall. I’m wearing a red blouse, so you can’t miss me :-)

Damn, you thought, was that smiley face too much? You picked at the skin around your nail and glanced up to see the near-constant flow of people was still in full force, the subway exit spitting pedestrians onto the cement sidewalk in droves. You squinted a little, trying to keep a good visual on the staircase leading out. With a sigh, you leaned over your bag to slip your phone inside when it buzzed again. Despite yourself, your heart raced and you eagerly unlocked it to see if he’d responded.

Blind Date: Cute! Let’s get some fish cakes then before we go to the movie.

Blind Date: Ah, subway just pulled in! I’m only a few sweaty staircases away now~

Blind Date: :P

Without meaning to, you smiled a little. Your nerves settled as you leaned on your right foot, grinning softly at your screen. He seemed like a good guy, at least. You were relieved. After the jerks you dated in high school, you’d sworn off dating for a while. Maybe trying to cleanse your palate. It was…oddly refreshing to be talking to someone who didn’t make you feel like you weren’t all that important. Like you were disposable.

Still smiling, you responded with a simple text.

You: I’m excited to meet you :-D

“Y/N?” asked a familiar voice from beside you.

A voice that sent chills up your spine, and not the good kind.

You stiffened and turned, eyes wide, toward the one person you’d been hoping fervently to avoid for life. Standing with his big, brown eyes wide and his hair slightly windswept, Jeon Jungkook stared down at you like you were a ghost. Your lips parted and, heart hammering, you opened and closed your jaw a few times. What were you supposed to say to the boy who broke your heart when you were sixteen?

Years later and he was still the heartthrob he’d been back then, only now he looked…like a man. His cheekbones were prominent, strong jaw, heavy brow and a serious, toned build like he’d lived at the gym in the years between your meetings.

You swallowed hard and slipped your phone in your bag, crossing your arms and thus closing yourself to him. You glanced up at him with a furrowed brow. “Jungkook,” you said with a sigh. “I’m actually waiting here for someone and I don’t want him to get the wrong idea, so if you could-,”

“You’re on a blind date?” asked Jungkook, lips agape.

You shrugged, glancing down the sidewalk toward the open maw of the subway exit, squinting in the hopes of catching your date’s attention. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Wait, but-,”

You sighed and shut him up with a single look his way, sharp, venomous. “I’m gonna to wait someplace else if you’re gonna keep standing beside me.”

“No, it’s not-,”

You huffed and shuffled into the crowd once more, walking purposefully away from him, but Jungkook was hot on your tail and wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Every few paces, you’d glance over your shoulder and see him following you feverishly, angling himself through the narrow spaces between bodies. But you kept going, pushing through, until you were blocks away from the subway station and Jungkook was nowhere to be seen.

You exhaled long and slow, patting your chest to calm down, and veered off toward the shops on your right, taking cover beneath an awning. Something in your bag vibrated and you jumped. Shit. Your date. The spring day sun was warm on your hands as you fumbled with your bag, grabbing your phone once again.

Blind Date: Where did you go??

You gripped your nose bridge and exhaled through your nose. Of course he’d be confused. You were lucky he was nice enough to reach out at all after seeing you weren’t where you said you’d be. You typed your reply quickly, desperate not to hurt his feelings.

You: God, I’m SO sorry. I ran into someone…from a long time ago lol. I couldn’t shake him off, so I ended up down the street a few blocks. By a Burger King.

You: I’m making a really bad impression, huh? I’m sorry. Just…he’s the LAST person I wanted to see today, you know?

You: Or…well, ever haha.

You awaited a response with bated breath, brows knit, and chewed on the inside of your cheek. This blind date was a wild card, really. Since you didn’t know him yet, you didn’t know how he’d respond. And it wouldn’t be his fault if he decided you weren’t worth all the hassle. Honestly, you might’ve been a little relieved if that was the case. Running into Jungkook…it made you remember why you avoided dating.

But despite your expectations, your phone buzzed again and you jumped to grab it.

Blind Date: This person…you really didn’t want to see him?

You: No. It’s just a painful reminder of the past.

You: !!! God, I keep saying awkward things !!! Haha, please forget I said anything. Where are you?

Blind Date: No! It’s not awkward at all. I’m just…

Blind Date: I’m sorry you had to see him then, I guess.

You: Jeez…

You: You’re a really nice guy, aren’t you?

Blind Date: Haha! I don’t know about that…

Blind Date: How about we reschedule for another time? I get the feeling you wouldn’t really be up for a movie right now anyway.

You panicked, heart kicking up. Despite everything you told yourself, you were a little bit happy he was being so understanding. And even though you were scared, you wanted to see if…well…if maybe this guy might be different.

You shook your head. Of course you shouldn’t think that way. Putting your heart out there to be toyed with and thrown aside…you didn’t want to go through it. Not really. And what relationship could be worth all that? You sucked in your breath and typed a quick response, ready to cast Jungkook and this blind date into the banks of your memory to gather dust. Even if this guy did seem sweet…

So had Jungkook, at first.

You: Yeah. That’s probably for the best. I work at that coffeeshop on campus, so I’ll shoot you a text once I get my schedule. :-)

You: I’m sorry for all the trouble today. Seriously.

You sighed and turned on your heel toward the street. If you kept on this sidewalk for a few more blocks, you’d find exit 3. And from there, it was only a 20-minute subway ride home whereupon you could finally collapse on your couch and wait for this cursed weekend to be over.

But before you could take a single step, a text came.

Blind Date: It was no trouble. :D I just feel bad that you had an unpleasant experience…

You: Hey, it’s not your fault haha.

You: Oh yeah! I never gave you my name, did I?

Blind Date: No, actually. Haha.

You: It’s Y/N.

Blind Date: It’s nice to meet you again, Y/N.

Blind Date: You can call me Nochu.

You: … Nochu … ?

Blind Date: Haha, it’s weird huh?

Blind Date: It’s a nickname I prefer.

You: Ah! I see. I’ll call you that then.

You: Nochu.

Blind Date: Y/N :-)

You stood and placed your hands on your lower back and stretched, groaning, a week later. Classes had been dragging lately and with several coworkers sick with a cold, you were one of the only employees left who wasn’t too ill to work. Your body felt like it was slowly failing you. Even your feet were sore from constantly running from place to place. And the quiet coffee shop before you made you feel like taking a long and well-needed nap. Mismatched chairs and bistro tables littered the trendy place and students congregated around the windows or the fireplace or the used bookshelf. Nobody really bothered you except to order or ask for to-go coffee sleeves. Mostly, you just stood there. For hours. Watching everything and nothing at once.

But today the energy was a little different. You’d heard from Sua that the graphic design students were approaching an important deadline, and from the looks of the crowd it seemed that deadline was heavy on everyone’s minds. Laptops and drawing tablets and plenty of coffee littered the tables as students chatted in small groups, none of them looking all too happy. You wondered what the project was, but didn’t want to bother Sua with a useless question. So instead, you just watched over customer’s shoulders as they added thick white lines to separate sections of illustrations or grabbed whole images with slender styluses and slid them to new spaces.

“Excuse me?”

You jumped and turned to the queue which up until moments ago had been completely empty. You made sure to manage your expression with a tight smile and bowed your head. “Sorry,” you said quietly, lifting your eyes to meet the customer.

And, to your shock and horror, you saw a familiar face amongst the group of thee college-aged boys. Jeon Jungkook stood in the middle, a half-pace behind the guy who had roused your attention, and if his expression was anything to go by, he was just as horrified to see you as you were to see him. You felt your back go perfectly straight, eyes wide and lips parted through which only shallow exhales escaped. Your palms grew sweaty and your heart thump-thumped to an uneven cadence.

“Um, what can I make for you?” you asked finally, managing a tight smile at the speaker of the group whose attention was affixed to the sign above your head, reading the menu with squinted eyes. “If you need more time…,” you hedged, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze which you felt burning circles into your face.

“Ah, no I’ve got it,” said the first guy with a polite smile your way. “I’ll have a green tea latte.”

You nodded and wrote it down on your notepad, just to keep things straight. Had your coworkers been stronger in their constitution, you’d have given the order to one of them to get started on. Perhaps you’d even get started yourself and leave the cashiering to them. But alas, you were alone and painfully aware of it.

“Will you be paying separately or together?” you asked, a tinge of hope in your voice. Please say together, please say together, please say together, you thought over and over, like an endless mantra.

The first boy chuckled and gave Jungkook’s shoulder a firm punch. “Like I’ll pay for these good-for-nothings,” he joked before returning his attention to you, smiling. He had a kind smile, but even that did little to ease your anxieties. You simply nodded and took his card as he stretched it out toward you.

The second guy approached, another brown-haired college kid with a polite grin and baggy spring clothes, and hummed. “I’ll do the caramel macchiato,” he said with a nod, fingers still clasping his chin as he scanned the menu and you scribbled his order. “Ah!” he said, pointing at you. You jumped, still on edge with adrenaline coursing through you, but quickly settled with a smile. “And a slice of banana bread.”

“Banana bread,” you mumbled to yourself as you wrote it. “Okay.”

The second handed you a credit card which you swiped quickly, eager to get this whole encounter over with. He took it back with a bow and a smile which you struggled to return because the moment you glanced over his shoulder you caught Jungkook’s gaze, intense, warm browns peering at you like you held answers he’d been searching for. Despite yourself, you blushed and glanced back toward your notepad.

Finally, the moment of reckoning arrived and your nerves made your hands a little shaky as they clasped the pen and paper. Your eyes wavered around the space between your own hands, measuring the empty air, desperate not to look at Jungkook again.

“Um…,” he mumbled, voice a low rumble in his chest. You almost wanted to squeeze your eyes shut altogether, even though you knew how dumb that’d make you look. “Can I get a strawberry smoothie?”

You almost laughed. It was so like him to come to a coffeeshop and order something like that. It was so like him to still have a weak palate when it came to bitter things. It was so like him to chase after you that day, to show up here on coincidence. It was so like him to be exactly who you remembered him to be. Exactly who he was back then.

Slowly, once you’d written his order down, you lifted your eyes and looked at him properly at last. He was dressed well, casual as you expected, all black as you expected, handsome as you expected. His hair was half-styled out of his eyes, and those eyes were the problem really. Dark and depthless, staring down at you with furrowed brow, jaw clenched. If anyone had doubts you two knew each other before, they’d certainly know now with the way he was watching you. The way he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for even a second.

“That’s all?” you asked.

“Um…yeah,” he responded, blinking at you like he had more to say.

By then, his friends had begun setting up camp amongst the mismatched sofas and recliners, setting up their computers. You caught sight of a drawing tablet as its corner poked out the top of the first boy’s backpack. So they were design majors too? Maybe your blind date had met one of these guys, then. But wait. If his friends were, did that mean…

“You’re a design major?” you asked, unable to stop yourself.

But once you said it, you wished to suck the words back inside like tapioca balls through a straw because across Jungkook’s face flashed a brief glimmer of excitement, eyes wide, mouth already open and poised to respond.

“Yeah!” he said, smiling a little. “I…uh, well you remember how I liked to draw.”

You nodded, typing the total into your cash register. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Listen, Y/N, I’m really sorry about-,”

“Let’s not rehash things here,” you said, eyeing him from beneath your lashes, scanning the shop like a conspirator in search of any prying eyes, any listening ears. “It doesn’t matter anyway. We’ve both moved on so let’s just keep it at that.”

Jungkook shut his mouth and, after a long moment, sighed. “Alright,” he said, sounding defeated. You hazarded a glance up at him and found his eyes long-sighted, gazing down at the counter between you without really looking at it.

“It’ll be 3,500 won,” you said, holding out one hand towards him.

He blinked and shook his head a little, as if returning to himself, and yanked his wallet from the front pocket of his loose joggers. He pulled out a bill and handed it to you. 20,000. Was that the smallest bill he had on him? You examined it with a thinly-veiled scowl. Of course, he was probably making good money doing something impressive. That was Jungkook anyway. The type of guy who just…made things come to him. Like the universe responded to his will. You sighed and went to work on the old register, punching in the amount and sliding the bill inside. You produced his change to find him already bounding toward his friends with his broad back to you.

Panicked, you rushed to the side of the barista station and called out to him. “Hey! You forgot your change!” you shouted, cupping one hand around your mouth. A few patrons turned to look at you and Jungkook.

He barely glanced back at you when he said, “You can keep it.”

And suddenly you were blushing for a very different reason.

That jerk, you thought to yourself as you watched him plug away at some ad he was working on on his tablet. Evening had fallen slowly upon the city of Seoul, and you wanted nothing more than to stroll out into the lavender evening, forgetting this whole unpleasant day. But instead, you had to wait for your coworker, Sora, to relieve you after making you work fifteen minutes past the end of your shift. Scowling, you kept a hawk’s eye on Jungkook and, unbeknownst to him, wished silent curses upon his head. I hope you go bald, you thought. Or worse, I hope you go out for fried chicken and you get only tendons. You crossed your arms and lolled your head to the side.

You shouldn’t have expected Jungkook to change. He’d always been a ‘my pace’ kind of guy. Maybe leaving that tip was his way of flexing his money to you. That he had enough money to just throw around at random baristas he used to hook up with in high school. Or maybe he was pitying you, looking down on you for working such a menial job. Either way, it made your blood boil. You felt the money crinkle in the pocket of your jeans with every step.

You’d briefly considered spitting in his smoothie, but you didn’t want to lose your job over Jeon Jungkook.

After all, you’d already lost your youth to the kid.

You glanced outside and watched the rainclouds gathering. Of course, you’d forgotten to bring an umbrella. It wasn’t like you’d checked the weather on the way out. Grumpily, you glanced down at your phone to check the time. Twenty minutes late now. What did Sora have to do that was so important? Normally, you’d complain to a friend. But Sua was about the closest you had these days and you weren’t sure you could trouble her with it.

But…were you really friends if you didn’t reach out to her from time to time?

Sighing, you glanced around the shop, making sure nobody was watching you, and unlocked your phone. So much had already happened that a quick message didn’t seem reasonable, but you couldn’t very well bury your head in your phone so after every few clicks you’d sweep your gaze around. You settled for an anxious few words between nervous glances at the rest of the shop. Realistically, you were off the clock anyway. But you didn’t want any bad Yelp reviews on your behalf.

You: Sua, on God today is cursed.

You waited a few moments for a response before growing impatient. Everything was taking forever today: that interaction with Jungkook, Sora taking over your shift, and now Sua not responding. Of course, she had no obligation to. She was probably busy with her own preparation much like the other graphic design students. You had no right to expect that of her.

Wasn’t that your problem from the start? Expecting too much?

Your phone buzzed in response as your mind began to drift toward melancholy thoughts and as you slid it open your eyes went wide and your fingertips chilled as the blood rushed to your cheeks.

Blind Date: Hah…I’m not Sua, but I am willing to listen if you need it…?

Blind Date: Was wondering when I’d hear from you.

Mortified didn’t even begin to cover it. You cupped a hand over your lips in horror, and just as you were about to melt into a pile of melted pride on the floor, the door swung open and a breathless Sora met your eyes with a nervous smile. You swallowed hard and pocketed your phone, offering Sora your full attention. He bowed his head to you, bending at the waist, as he approached the counter.

“I am so sorry for being late!” he shouted, loud enough for every patron to glance at him and, subsequently, you.

Your flushed face went beet red as Jungkook turned to stare at you, eyes wide. Of course, another embarrassing moment in front of that guy. “U-um, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” you said, waving your hands.

He sniffled and looked up at you, eyes red with impending tears. “I really didn’t mean to, but I fell asleep after class today and-,”

“Sora, it’s cool,” you said, removing your apron and hanging it on the rack behind you. “I’m gonna go now though so I can catch my subway.”

Sora stiffened and nodded, giving you a salute before scampering behind the counter and putting on his own apron. “I really am sorry!” he called after you.

You waved a hand and rushed out onto the sidewalk, lingering beneath the awning as the rain began to drizzle from overhead. You returned your attention to your phone, pushing your hair behind your ears so you could see properly, and swallowed your nerves.

You: I…am such an idiot.

You: I’m so sorry. I was at work and I’m not supposed to be on my phone, but I just…

You: Jesus, honestly you can just delete my number. I don’t think I can look at your contact anymore without cringing.

You were poised to take a step out into the rain when your phone vibrated again and you jumped to read it with barely shaking hands.

Blind Date: No! It’s okay. Seriously.

Blind Date: I can list dumber things I’ve done today alone.

Blind Date: Besides, sounds like you need someone to talk to anyway…?

You blinked at your phone screen a few times, cocking your head to the side. Somehow, his words had calmed you down, just a little. Your flaming cheeks were cooler now when you poked one with the pad of your finger. Your heart wasn’t a hammer against your ribcage. And as you glanced over your shoulder at the window into the coffeeshop, you found Jungkook was no longer in sight. With a few texts alone, things seemed a little better.

You: I won’t bore you with all of it, haha.

You: It was more of a Sua story anyway I think.

You: I’m trying to break through that kinda hesitant first stage of friendship with her and

You: Well anyway, I’m sorry to bother you. Hope you’re doing good?

Blind Date: Haha, hey I get it. Friendships are weird. Took me a while to make any real friends this year since I was so shy.

You: You were shy?

Blind Date: Oh big time. I still don’t really know how to approach people without saying or doing something wrong.

Blind Date: Like today. I think I came across like an asshole to someone.

Blind Date: That happens a lot actually -_-

Blind Date: Being nervous makes me act weird.

You: Really? You sound really confident over text.

Blind Date: Haha really? That’s good to hear at least.

Blind Date: I’m about the least confident person I know.

Blind Date: Whew, not exactly the impression I wanted to give to a possible date! Oops.

You smiled at your phone and began typing out a response when the door by your hip swung open and out walked Jungkook and his friends. Jungkook caught your eye as your smile was slipping into a scowl and you quickly righted yourself, looking away down the busy street. You held your phone close to your chest and popped a hip out to the side, feigning disinterest.

“See you guys tomorrow,” said one boy.

“Yeah,” responded Jungkook, and you saw out the corner of your eye that the guys parted ways. Jungkook lingered beside you underneath the awning, watching you keenly. “Who were you texting?” he asked.

You stiffened and glanced up at him with a frown. “Is that any of your business?” you asked.

He flushed a little, rubbed the back of his head, and let out a few breathy laughs. “Sorry. Guess not,” he said with a sigh.

For a few moments the two of you just stood there, silent. You weren’t sure what to do next without an umbrella, and you didn’t want Jungkook to think you were just…spending time with him for fun. But still, you didn’t move or make a sound. Just watched the steadily increasing rainfall splatter against the pavement, gathering in pools beside the sidewalk.

“Listen,” he began, turning to you properly. You eyed him from below with raised brows. “I really don’t want any bad energy between us, okay? I know things were messy before, but we’re in college now. It’s been years, right?” Some of the tension between you broke, but it was quickly replaced by a new tension: your outrage.

You blinked at him, working your jaw. “Jungkook, you don’t get to tell me when I’m allowed to stop being hurt,” you said, shaking your head. “Seeing you is a little painful, even though it’s been a long time. So…maybe just ignore me.”

Jungkook sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You know I am.”

You shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t really want anything to do with you,” you said, meeting his eyes. Your own calm surprised you. He looked desperate, brows knit and lips parted. “I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to just leave me alone.”

He blinked a few times, eyes wide. “I…I mean, we go to the same school now and everything. I just transferred this year and it’s…I don’t really know many people. It’s not like we’re strangers, so why should we act like we are?”

You swallowed your anger. “I’m gonna go now,” you said, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and walking out into the rain. You turned to look at him. “I don’t think you get what I’m saying, so it’s not worth repeating it again in a different way. Just…leave me alone.”

But before you could take a single step toward the subway entrance three blocks away, Jungkook was beside you in the rain, fiddling with his umbrella. “Wh-what are you doing? I just said to leave me alone!” you called at him over the sound of the rain around you.

Jungkook spat rainwater out from between his lips and shook his head as the umbrella finally popped open and the rain stopped pummeling you, now ricocheting off the nylon. You stared up at Jungkook underneath the dark umbrella, confined beneath it, confined to this small, enclosed space. Your chest was nearly touching his arm and his breath was warm as it fanned across your face. Strawberries. Like his smoothie. Rain was caught in his long eyelashes and his rosy lips were still parted, cheeks a warm pink. He stared down at you and for a brief moment, you felt a hot, shooting sensation running from the top of your head to your toes.

“Let me walk you to the station at least,” he said, scanning you.

You felt a little faint, and the sweet scent of his cologne only made you more disoriented. “I’m fine. It’s only a few blocks,” you said, but even you could admit your voice sounded weak.

He sighed, eyes falling to the ground. “I know I hurt you a lot back then, but…,” he began, then shook his head. “Even if it’s small, I wanna make it up to you somehow. So…let me walk you.”

You rubbed your bare forearm and inhaled sharply, shutting your eyes for a moment. “Fine,” you forced out and the two of you began walking.

“So…,” said Jungkook after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. “How was your date the other day?”

You groaned. “What we’re not gonna do is this.”

Jungkook chuckled. “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “Just curious.”

You watched your hands, clasped in front of you, and sighed. “It didn’t happen,” you said. If nothing else, at least your time with Jungkook made you remarkably comfortable talking to him about your thoughts and feelings. “We cancelled.”

“Why?” he asked, brows high.

You shrugged. “After seeing you, I was kinda crabby so…”

“It was my fault?” He pointed with his free hand to his own chest, eyes wide.

“I mean, yeah but not really,” you said with an easy exhale. “It’s for the best anyway. He seems like a really nice guy. I don’t wanna end up hurting his feelings or something.”

“You’d rather be alone than risk having things end badly?” he asked.

You peered up at him. “Wonder why that is,” you mumbled before glancing away.

He sighed. “Sorry.”

“Mhm.”

The rest of the walk was silent as the two of you were forced to simply live with the words you’d exchanged, unable to do anything to alter the events that led you here. All you could do was walk forward, united under a shared umbrella for just a moment, until you ducked out from beneath it and disappeared down the subway station stairs, not even pausing for a moment to wave or say goodbye.

Blind Date: Yikes, did I really scare you off?

You raised your brows at your phone screen as the subway bumped along. It was too crowded to find a seat, so you stood cramped between a stout businessman and a high school girl, all of you holding the railing overhead for stability. You couldn’t help it, but again you smiled. After all the craziness that had come from the day, this stranger seemed to help you feel at ease.

You: Haha nope! It’d take more than that.

You: I bumped into someone I didn’t want to see, so I had to take care of that.

Blind Date: !!! Same person as before??

You: Yeah, if you can believe it lol.

Blind Date: (o_O)

Blind Date: How unlucky can a person be?

You: That’s what I’m saying. (￢_￢;)

You: That’s actually one of the things I was gonna complain to Sua about.

You: Y’know, teenage heartbreak and high school angst. Etc.

Blind Date: Hey, I said it before. I’d love to listen!

Blind Date: Aight, that was too enthusiastic. How about: I wouldn’t mind hearing you out!

You: Lol, good addendum.

You: I mean, it’s not like it’s really that serious. Just…in high school I was really shy. I didn’t have very many friends and I thought that I was fine on my own, you know?

You: But I guess I was lonelier than I thought haha. There was this really handsome guy in my class who started sitting with me on the roof at lunch. At first, neither of us really said anything. Just…sitting together.

You: But after a while, we got pretty close. Half a school year maybe. He said he came up there because the air was nice, but I had a feeling it had to do with the fact that he was a little too popular for his own good. Everyone wanted to talk to him. But he was like me.

You: Introverted, I mean.

Blind Date: Sounds like you two were good friends, then?

You: Yeah, until I caught feelings lol. Mistake.

Blind Date: You confessed??

You: Hehe…yes.

You: After a while being close, I felt really comfortable telling him anything. I told him it wasn’t like I was expecting him to date me or anything. I just wanted him to know so he could be a little more careful around me.

You: But it seemed like he reciprocated.

You: We started dating…I guess?

You: Never put a label on it, which was another mistake on my part for not asking.

You: But we did everything couples did, just…not really in front of anyone from school.

You: Never asked about that either lol.

Blind Date: Oh…

Blind Date: I mean…that doesn’t sound so good…

You: Haha, it’s probably exactly what it sounds like because once we’d been together for about a year, he ended things really suddenly. We were getting ready to apply for colleges and he was gonna go for one in a different city. He said it wouldn’t work out.

You: I fought really hard for it, but he started saying pretty mean things and I didn’t want to get hurt so I ended up conceding.

Blind Date: Mean things?

You: Things I don’t really wanna type out haha…

Blind Date: Shit! Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.

You: Hey, don’t worry! Old wounds. I should probably get over it, really.

You: No time like the present!

You: He said he never really liked me and he was only with me because he felt bad for me. Didn’t really love hearing that.

You: He said because I didn’t have friends, he pitied me. That was why he went to the roof to eat with me. Why he kissed me and all that. Took me on dates. ┐(￣ヘ￣)┌ Pretty dumb, imo, but that’s what he said and it seemed like he meant it anyway lol.

Blind Date: Y/N…

You: Hey, you asked!

Blind Date: That’s really shitty. You didn’t deserve that.

Blind Date: You carried that around with you all these years?

You: Hah, admitting it sounds kinda pathetic, huh?

You: I guess it’s not the sort of thing you just…get over. I think I really loved him too, so…

You: Anyway, seeing him now is really weird. Never thought I’d see him around here again, but suddenly he’s everywhere haha. Definitely doesn’t feel great, tbh.

You: Ew, sorry for laying all that on you. Not exactly small talk.

Blind Date: No!! Don’t apologize. I’m glad you talked to me about it. Honestly…I feel really sorry for you. It sounds like the whole thing affected you a lot. :-(

Blind Date: If it makes you feel better, I think I can understand you a little!

Blind Date: Like I said, I’m a bit shy myself. It’s not an issue of having friends, but finding good ones. It’s hard for me to socialize without saying something dumb and regretting it. So for a while, when I first started college, I isolated myself a lot. I didn’t want to make any more mistakes, you know?

Blind Date: But recently, I’ve met some people who are really kind. People who don’t judge me when I mess things up (which is often haha). They help me communicate better.

You: You communicate really well, I think :-)

Blind Date: Haha, thank you. I’m actually blushing a little, whew. Uh, I guess it’s because it’s easier to type things out. Speaking is hard because you can’t just reword things before sending them. You say it out loud and it’s forever, you know?

You: Yeah! Jeez, that actually happened to me today (—_—)

You: I’m glad someone else understands it lol

Blind Date: Yeah, me too.

By the time you received the last message, you were already back inside your apartment, soaked from the walk home. You’d used your bag to cover your phone as you walked and typed, so now the thing was slumped against your dining chair like a sopping wet creature. But still, you smiled at your phone. Even though the conversation with Jungkook had been jarring, you’d almost forgotten it after chatting with your blind date. It felt oddly vulnerable to reveal so much to him, but his reaction had been really reassuring. You set your phone aside and padded to the bathroom to dry yourself a little with a towel, catching sight of yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were a little flushed, eyes clear, and still smiling. You shook your head, trying to shake off your grin, but when you glanced back at your reflection it was still the same.

With the towel dangling across your shoulders, you returned to the living room and saw your phone lit up with another new text. Smiling, you unlocked it and read what he had to say.

Blind Date: Off topic, but uh…

Blind Date: Did you happen to catch the most recent episode of Game of Thrones?

Blind Date: Because I need to talk about it or I might explode.

You raised your brows and, without meaning to, you laughed. Was this okay? Was it alright to become close to someone like this again? Was it alright to be excited about someone again? You were fearful, cautious, hesitant. After everything with Jungkook, you’d found it impossible to trust people’s intentions. Were they being nice to you because they liked you or because they felt bad for you? Would you get hurt if you trusted the goodwill of the people around you?

You: Um…

You: CAN WE TALK ABOUT ARYA???

You weren’t going to talk to him again.

Well…that was your intention anyway. But by Friday, you’d spent every night up late chatting with this Nochu guy. It wasn’t like you talked about anything all that interesting or profound. Music you liked, games you played, anime you watched. You’d spent the better portion of Thursday night talking about whether Fullmetal Alchemist or Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood was superior. You weren’t sure why you were compelled to respond every time his name lit up your phone. And you really weren’t sure why you were the one reaching out to him now as you sat watching your professor detail the process of molecular movement across a cell membrane.

Perhaps you’d missed making easy conversation with someone you liked talking to…

After high school, you’d become something of a recluse. You spent more nights in than out and despite doing well in your classes, you’d found yourself…slightly lonesome. That’s why when Sua gave you her number after you’d successfully finished a project together a few months ago, you’d been quick to take it. Even though it was a little scary, some small part of you wanted to trust people again.

And maybe that’s why too. Why you were sending this stupid text in the middle of your lecture.

You: Hey dude. You free today?

Blind Date: Hm? Why?

You: Idk, Burger King or smth?

Blind Date: Hehe, are you trying to revive our dead romance?

You: O.O Our romance died already? After one failed date?

Blind Date: Hahaha I mean…you can try giving it CPR if you want…?

Blind Date: Mouth-to-mouth ;-D

You: Yuck, I take it back. Our romance is dead and buried.

You: Anyway, you free?

Blind Date: Uh yeah probs later. I’ve got class until 4.

Blind Date: Does that work for your Burger King plan?

Blind Date: I know it’s hard to get a reservation at that place on short notice >.<

You: I take it all back.

You: I have plans tonight, soz.

You: Talk to ya later, weeb.

You smiled and set your phone down beside your notebook, refocusing on your professor. But your attention was quickly assuaged by your phone vibrating once more. You smirked down at it and, covertly, read the slew of oncoming text messages with a chuckle.

Blind Date: !!! That’s rude !!!

Blind Date: You can’t just offer a Burger King date and snatch it out from under me like that.

Blind Date: I’ll be mad if you jerk me around >:-(

Blind Date: You see that face? I mean BUSINESS.

You: Calm down lol, I was kidding.

You: Let’s meet at the Burger King next to the ramen place near campus?

Blind Date: Hehe, sounds good :-P

Blind Date: Ah, but don’t be too surprised when you meet me, okay?

Blind Date: I don’t want you fainting when you see my handsome face 8-)

You: Mhm, I’ll be sure not to faint.

Blind Date: I mean…a little fainting is fine…

You: Haha shut up. I’ll see you there. Looking forward to putting a face to the texts!

Blind Date: Hopefully my face doesn’t disappoint lol.

You: Yikes, mine either.

Blind Date: Yours won’t.

Blind Date: Haha, I’m sure you’ll look great. That’s what I meant.

Blind Date: Ew, all of that was hard to read. Forget I said anything hhhhhh.

You smiled fondly at your phone before sliding it into your bag. “You look kinda smitten,” said Sua from beside you.

You jumped and glanced at her as the rest of the class began packing up. She was grinning at you like a co-conspirator, brows low, knowing grin on her face. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been texting someone named Blind Date during every class period for a week,” she said, cocking a brow. “I take it you guys hit it off?”

You felt yourself go warm. Not like with Jungkook the other day, but like something else. Something a little deeper than a physical reaction. Nonetheless, you cleared your throat and smiled at Sua. “He’s a good guy. I think we could be good friends.”

“Friends?” she asked with a laugh, flitting her hand as the two of you stood together. “Sounds boring. Get a smooch or two out of it or it’s a bust.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t really know if he’d be interested in me that way.”

“What about you?” she asked, eyeing you. “Would you be interested?”

You stared at her for a long moment, eyes wide, and opened and shut your mouth a few times. “I…,” you began, then glanced at your feet. You followed her out into the hallway where students hurried by in a flash beside you. “I mean…”

Sua paused her walking to stare back at you, her teasing grin replaced with a genuine one. “Wait, do you actually like him-like him?” she asked, eyes alight.

You stiffened, scratching your arm, and sighed. “Jeez, I don’t know! Maybe,” you said, waving your hands. “Forget it, I’ve got another class soon.”

She laughed as you maneuvered around her through the hall, calling after you. “You’re cute when you’ve got a crush!”

You sat at a booth by yourself at Burger King, waiting for your not-date to show up. It had only been a few minutes and already your anxiety was starting to speak in your ear. He’s not showing up, it whispered, You’re an idiot. And maybe you were. Looking around the fast food joint, you saw more than a few couples, sitting side-by-side or gazing at each other over fried chicken. You didn’t envy them. Not that way. Just…maybe it was the human connection you missed more than anything. Last time you’d been in this situation, you were still deeply in love with Jeon Jungkook.

You were sixteen and you sat twiddling your thumbs on a suburban bench overlooking Seoul. Trees swayed in the summer breeze and carried with them the scent of young hopefulness, naivety in the form of dogwood blossoms. You watched the uneven cityscape before you as it resisted the pull of the wind, and far in the distance, slightly glittering in the sunlight, the Han River. Jungkook had said he’d be there at exactly two. It was ten past, and you were getting a little nervous. You’d confessed not a week prior during the last week of school, and to your shock Jungkook had been receptive. He hadn’t said anything bold like ‘I like you too’ or ‘let’s date’ but he had invited you out for some ice cream and you figured that was much the same thing for him.

Maybe he’s just being nice, you thought to yourself with a sigh. You’d spent a long time picking out the right outfit, getting your hair to lay just right. And still, you didn’t feel quite up to par with him. Girls were always confessing their love for him. Guys too. What made you any different than the dozens of other hopefuls? He probably won’t come…

“Y/N!” called a voice from the winding, hilly street.

You jumped and turned, and your heart swelled as you saw Jungkook running down the sidewalk toward you, grinning from ear to ear. And that was what did you in. That sincerity, that vigor, that enthusiasm…all for you. You stood up to meet him and chuckled as he caught his breath, patting his chest.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, panting. “My mom started lecturing me, so I got tied up.” After a few moments regaining his composure, he finally looked at you properly and when he did, you noticed his cheeks going red hot, eyes round. “Oh, wow,” he said, glancing away with a jittery laugh. “S-Sorry, you…you look really nice.”

You felt a little faint. You’d spent months pining after this kid, pining after this purity you kept glimpsing in him, and now…

He was saying you looked nice.

It was almost enough to knock the breath out of you.

You smiled at your shoes and rubbed your neck. “Th-thank you,” you said.

He laughed, nervous once more, and gave your shoulder a shove. “Hey, don’t get all clammy on me, okay? Nothing’s weird between us. Just…two pals…on a date.”

You jumped and stared up at him with unbridled surprise. “Date?” you asked, shameless hope in your voice.

He laughed, eyes turning to crescents, and nodded. “What else would it be?” Of course. Of course, since it was Jungkook, the answer was just that simple, wasn’t it?

You swallowed hard and tried to manage your expression, but you couldn’t fight the smile teasing your lips. “Oh,” you said, letting out a breathy laugh.

He examined you for a moment, scanning you. You weren’t used to going out with friends, let alone dating. All of this was new and exhilarating to you. But you felt a sudden wave of shyness that you couldn’t fight off, and a slightly pleasant self-consciousness. You felt him looking at you, and it didn’t feel like he hated looking. You became very aware of your body, each limb, each finger. Still smiling a little, you laughed again, unsure of what else to do. These were uncharted waters, after all.

“Hm,” he said, bending down to meet your eyes. You blushed and leaned away a little, but he was blushing too and it made you feel better knowing perhaps he was just as nervous as you. “Lemme prove it.”

Your eyes went wide, but before you could say or do anything, Jungkook closed the distance between you, tipping his chin so that your lips met. His lips were warm and soft. They tasted like chapstick and banana milk. You didn’t move, not a single muscle, and perhaps this worried him because he was quick to lean away and stare down at you, fresh insecurity on display in his warm brown eyes.

“Sorry! Was that too sudden?” he asked, laughing and glancing away, down the quiet street. “Jeez, I got carried away, huh? Ha, I’m sorry.”

Before he could spiral, you took a timid step forward and pushed yourself onto your toes. Gently, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself nearer to him. He jumped and looked at you with stunned eyes. But you didn’t give him a chance to think too much, because before long you were kissing him, head tilted to the side, eyes shut. Without much pause, his hands found your waist and stayed there, respectful, unsure.

And somehow, you’d summoned the courage to do it. To kiss him back.

Because he showed up, after all.

He didn’t leave you alone…

Fifteen minutes now and you were beginning to worry. You reasoned that at least there were worse places to be stood up. A nice steakhouse, for instance. At least here you weren’t the only solo diner. But nonetheless, the feeling of a deep gut-punch was only growing. Dread and disappointment mingled into a bitter cocktail in the pit of your stomach. Wouldn’t this just be…poetic? Getting stood up for your first date after years of fear and emotional isolation?

Wouldn’t that be exactly what would happen?

Thirty minutes. At first, you tried to tell yourself he was probably just running late from a class. After all, the walk from campus alone was around seven minutes. Maybe he’d gotten released late. Maybe he’d gotten held up with a professor or classmate. You stared at your Whopper with dead eyes now, watching the cold burger as all the heat drained from it. It was too late to save it now. And perhaps it had never been meant for you to eat anyway. Maybe it was your destiny to become a vegetarian or something.

Nonetheless, you sent a text.

Even though it felt pathetic.

You: Hey, uh…we still on for Burger King?

You: No rush, haha.

You: Just a little worried…

Was this revenge for ruining the first date? Some elaborate plot to get back at you? He seemed like a really sweet guy, but so had Jungkook after all. After several minutes without a reply, you began to accept the fact that you’d been thoroughly stood up. Your throat constricted, eyes going a little hazy, and resolved to wait a little longer. Just a little.

Forty-eight minutes. No reply and no date. By then, plenty of customers had come and gone through the front doors, none of them him. You couldn’t bring yourself to take even one bite of food, the money wasted, the time wasted too. How much time had you wasted, really? How much of your life had you spent watering dead plants?

When Jungkook told you he wanted to break up, you’d been in disbelief. The two of you were close, so close it almost hurt, and the sudden end felt like a slap in the face or a jolt to the heart. You’d fought him in his room that night, the sunset turning the ends of his hair gold, turning his eyes gold too. He had no right being so handsome at a moment like that. You asked for a reason and he said he didn’t want any strings going in to college. He wanted to be unaffiliated. But you couldn’t accept that. You couldn’t accept that the time you spent together had meant so little to him, that the relationship was a dead plant from the start.

I was only dating you because I felt bad for you! he’d shouted once he’d had enough. Ever wonder why I never told anyone about us?! You’d been stunned then, stunned silent. Your brain was failing to process his words. He’d never spoken that way to you before. How much time had you spent in love? How much time had he spent pitying you? I was your only friend, for God’s sake! What did you expect me to do?!

Perhaps you’d been right after all. Perhaps giving yourself to other people was too dangerous, too painful. Perhaps loving someone wasn’t worth it, perhaps it could never be completely reciprocal. Perhaps any relationship you had would be a waste of time. Perhaps all you were destined to do was water dead plants until finally, you decided it was enough.

One hour. You stood up from your seat, wiped beneath your eyes as the tears you’d been fighting finally crested over your bottom eyelid, and carried your tray to the garbage. You slid your trash into the bin and, sniffling, wandered out toward the exit. Customers avoided walking too close to you, likely noticing the tears that were now tracking stubbornly down your cheeks. You would have wiped them, had you had the energy to care.

But all you wanted was to go home and be alone.

Alone for a while.

You pushed your way outside, taking in the fresh spring day. No more rain, even though you would have welcomed it. It could have concealed your crying, your red nose and swelling eyes. You could have cowered beneath a bus stop and nobody would have noticed you. Nobody would have noticed.

Instead, the spring day was gorgeous, teasingly beautiful. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, and people milled about through the street, smiling and chatting easily. Sniffling, you wiped your nose and joined them, walking down the sidewalk toward the subway entrance near campus.

You were overreacting. You didn’t even know this guy that well yet. He wasn’t a boyfriend, he wasn’t someone you’d given your whole heart to. He hadn’t betrayed you, because deep down you’d expected this. Maybe that’s what upset you so much. Being proven right.

You exited the crowd of people a block from the Burger King and walked with your head down toward the subway entrance. You were about to step on to the escalator when you heard someone call your name.

“Y/N!”

You turned slowly, eyes bleary from all the crying, and rubbed your tears away to see them clearly. Again, like he had some sort of sense for when you were most humiliated, Jungkook stepped toward you. His face was contorted in worry, thick brows knit, mouth agape as he stared down at you, scanning you.

You sniffled and nodded. “What?” you asked.

“What are you doing?” he asked softly, taking you by the crook of the arm and leading you toward a more sparsely populated alley beside the sidewalk. You didn’t fight. Didn’t have it in you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his own eyes watery as he looked down at you, forcing your head up as he held it between two big, warm hands.

You kept your gaze on the dirty ground. “Let me go,” you said, but it was weak.

“Y/N…,” he whispered, smoothing his thumb against your cheek. “Jesus.”

“What?” you asked, looking at him quick, fierce. “Are you pitying me?”

His eyes went wide and he shook his head. Looking at him now, he seemed pretty shaken himself. Why did the two of you keep bumping into each other like this? “No! No, that’s not it.”

“Then what?” you asked, shaking his hands off your face. “What is it, huh? Here to show off your money? Show me how good you’re doing while I’m working minimum wage? Huh? Do you like feeling superior?”

He swallowed hard, his expression revealing some sort of hurt you couldn’t name. “No! Please, it’s not that! Let me explain-,”

“No! You don’t have any right to ask me to listen to you!” you said, sobbing. You wiped your eyes with your forearm and shook your head. “Just leave me alone! Everyone!” you shouted.

Jungkook took your shoulders in his hands to keep you still and you tried a few times to shake yourself free, but to no avail. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

You kept crying, the ancient pain welling up from inside you like some age-old reserve finally erupting. Your body rocked with the force of your tears. “Isn’t it pathetic? The minute I start trying to reach out, I get stood up?” you asked with a manic laugh. “Doesn’t that just make you feel so good? Aren’t I pitiable?”

Jungkook’s own tears were pooling in his eyes and you could see them there, threatening to fall. “Please,” he said quietly.

You shook your head. “Isn’t this what you want? Someone to look down on? Someone to feel bad for?” you asked, face wet from the tears. “Can’t you just leave me alone?!” you shouted, loud enough to rouse the attention of a few people on the sidewalk behind Jungkook’s back.

Jungkook, without another word, sniffled sharply and pulled you flush against his chest. You struggled against his strong hold for a few moments, writhing, before finally submitting. Without even meaning to, you wrapped your arms around his torso and sobbed into his black shirt. He held you close, resting his cheek on your head. You could have sworn you felt a few tears hitting your shoulder.

But before you could get too comfortable in his embrace, you pushed yourself away and stared at him, bitter, angry, from several feet away. You looked at him like a feral thing, like an alleycat. And the way he watched you was different than it was that day by the bench. It was worried now, like a shadow had crossed over his face.

“I’m sorry-,” he began.

You shook your head and shoved past him. “Don’t talk to me. Ever,” you spat as you walked by, rejoining the stream of people on the sidewalk toward the subway entrance.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Sua as the two of you left class.

Half a week had passed, and you were eager for more time to distance you from that unpleasant day. You’d received a slew of texts from your blind date, all of which had gone unanswered. They ranged from the typical I’m so sorry texts to more in-depth explanations. Apparently, he’d gotten nervous. Cold feet, he’d said. Nervous for what, you didn't know and you wouldn’t ask. You were meeting at a Burger King for God’s sake. What could he have been that nervous about?

You glanced at her and offered a tight smile. “Mhm. I’m good. Just…uh…gotta get to work later so I’m thinking about that,” you said, over-explaining. Of course, lying just wasn’t for you.

Sua sighed and hooked an arm around your elbow, leaning close to you as the two of you walked down the hallway. You edged away just slightly, and it seemed she noticed as she turned to you with wide eyes. You hated to admit it, but everything with that Nochu guy had made you wary of even Sua. They did know each other after all. Had this been one big setup from the start? Were the two conspiring to hurt you?

You shook your head and patted her hand with a smile. Of course not. Of course that was crazy. But…something about this whole thing had you feeling crazy. “Sorry,” you said quietly. “Just…met up with someone from my past the other day and it didn’t feel so good.”

She raised her brows. “What? You never mentioned anyone like that before…,” she said, her brows lowering. She looked a little hurt.

You swallowed hard. “Ah, well it’s no big deal,” you said, flitting a hand with a choppy laugh. “It’s in the past for a reason.”

She pouted. “You know you can talk to me, right?” she said, eyeing you.

And with those words, your chest constricted a little and a small pang of guilt clenched your stomach. You didn’t want to end up hurting her. She was sweet and she wanted to be close to you. But what could you do if you just weren’t ready for that? How could you tell her you may never be ready?

Instead, you turned to her and offered a smile. “I know.”

Blind Date: Y/N…

Blind Date: Please respond. Please.

Blind Date: I really really want to explain everything to you.

Blind Date: I know I really hurt you, but I want to explain.

Blind Date: Isn’t that selfish of me?

Blind Date: To hurt you and then ask you to listen to me?

Blind Date: I’m sorry.

Blind Date: I’m selfish.

You sighed as you watched your phone. The coffeeshop was quiet, fewer patrons now that the design students had finished their projects, and you felt safer looking at the onslaught of texts that just wouldn’t stop flooding your phone. You know you can talk to me, right? That’s what Sua said. She had reached out her hand to you.

And you’d pulled back.

You eyed your phone for a long few moments. Wasn’t it time to stop running away because you were scared of being hurt? Wasn’t it time to stop expecting someone to walk all the way across the tightrope to you and start walking to meet them in the middle instead?

Wasn’t it wrong to punish people for something someone else did?

You: Hey…

You: Sorry I haven’t responded. I just needed space I think.

Blind Date: Shit, I know. I’m so sorry.

Blind Date: You know I care about you though, right?

Blind Date: You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you on purpose, right?

You: I mean, we’ve only known each other a few weeks haha.

You: Honestly, I probably overreacted.

You: After everything that happened with that guy I told you about, I think I’m just a little too sensitive. And I took it out on you. And that was wrong.

Blind Date: No, no! Please don’t apologize. Jesus. It’s entirely my fault. All of it.

You: Haha it’s really not. I shouldn’t hold you and him to the same standards when you’re different people. That’s on me.

Blind Date: Can I see you?

You: Huh? So suddenly? I’m working…

Blind Date: The coffeeshop on campus?

You: Yeah…

You: Don’t come right now though!

You: I won’t be able to talk to you anyway.

Blind Date: I’ll wait. When do you get off?

You: Nine…

Blind Date: I’ll see you at nine.

You blushed, staring down at your screen. Since when was he so direct like this? And why did it make your heart race, just a little?

Sua was right. You definitely had a crush…

You watched the front doors as you began cleaning up the coffeeshop. Closing time was coming soon, and with five minutes until nine you were beginning to feel that festering fear that you’d be stood up again. But as that voice returned to your mind, you were quick to quiet it. You wanted to believe in people again. You couldn’t live your life all alone.

So you swept beneath tables and propped chairs atop them. You cleaned the windows. You hummed a pop song to yourself, trying to keep your mind busy. When you glanced outside, you noticed the spring showers had returned and the rain was falling in bullets from the dark sky. With a sigh, you settled down on one of the recliners by the window, watching cars and buses and people speed by. You wondered which one would come inside despite the sign now reading ‘closed’. You wondered who this person was.

Before you realized it, you were dozing off, struggling to keep your eyes open as you reclined against the comfortable cushions. Your breathing became more rhythmic, deeper in your chest with each inhale, and you snuggled into the back of the recliner with a heavy sigh.

And that’s when you heard it. The distinctive ting of the bell dangling over the front door. Your eyes opened wide and you saw his reflection in the mirror beside you. Tall, dressed in dark clothes, hoodie up over his head and an umbrella in his hand, trailing droplets of rainwater onto the wood floor. You wanted to greet him right away, to get a proper look at him, but with your heart racing the way it was you couldn’t find the courage. It was enough for you just to respond to his texts. And now he was here, corporeal, right behind you.

You shut your eyes tight and feigned sleep.

“Y/N?” he called, and somehow you recognized his voice.

No way.

It couldn’t be…

You kept your eyes shut and curled your knees closer to your chest. Slowly, you heard him mill around the shop before pausing beside your recliner. His footsteps got closer, rounding the side of the chair to stand right in front of you. And, quietly, he laughed. And you were certain now. You knew exactly who he was.

You felt a warm, big hand press against the side of your head, smoothing your hair down, and heard a fond sigh. “Jeez,” he mumbled. You felt him crouch down beside your feet and his arm dropped to rest on the arm of the recliner. He gently rocked the chair back and forth for a moment, humming. “Don’t hate me too much, okay?” he asked in a whisper.

And, without another moment’s hesitation, you opened your eyes and stared right down at him. “Jungkook…?” you asked, scanning his face.

His eyes were round with shock and his whole person was wet. He gazed up at you from where he crouched on the floor and, mouth agape, said nothing. Wordlessly, you reached a hand out and touched his cheek with the pad of your index finger. Soaking wet. You sighed and pushed to your feet. Jungkook stumbled a little to accommodate you as you slipped past him to the counter. You rifled through the cabinets before producing a towel. By then, he’d followed you to the counter and was waiting on the other side. Sighing, you waved a hand, signaling for him to join you behind the register. He jumped and followed your silent command, and suddenly you were staring at his broad chest up close.

You swallowed your nerves and draped the towel atop his head. “Dry off,” you said, hopping up to sit on the counter. The lights in the shop were low, and the music still bumped lowly through the stereo. It might have been romantic, if it was anyone else. “Then we can talk.”

He nodded and fluffed the towel through his hair, obscuring his face from view for a few peaceful seconds. “I…I know I have a lot to explain.”

“Yeah,” you said.

He peeked out from behind the towel with one eye, watching you. “Are you mad?”

“Fuming, actually.”

He nodded and let the towel drop to his shoulders. “I expected that,” he said with a sigh. He came to stand in front of your knees, looking right at you with enough sincerity to knock the breath from your lungs. Just like that first date. “I don’t know where to start.”

“So you know Sua?” you asked, letting your heels bounce against the counter’s cabinets.

“Ah, uh, yeah,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “We’re in the same major, so…”

“And you transferred here?”

“Yeah,” he said, meeting your eyes. “It was…no good out in Busan. I missed home too much.”

You nodded, watching your thighs on the counter. “Figures.”

He chuckled wryly. “You know me too well.”

“Thought I did.”

Carefully, he took a single step forward and you jumped, meeting his eyes like a frightened prey. “I never meant for you to carry all that with you for so long,” he said, brows knit and eyes hazy like he may cry. “I didn’t expect you to be so hurt.”

“That’s stupid,” you said. “You can’t tell someone you were only with them out of pity and expect them not to be hurt.”

“I know, I just…Jesus, I’m just stupid,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair. “Since I was moving away, I didn’t want you to waste your time waiting for me to come back, so I wanted to give you a clean break. Since I knew you wouldn’t wanna break up just because of distance.”

You stiffened. “You…what?”

“I didn’t mean it,” he said. “Any of it.”

You felt like you’d been hit right in the diaphragm, like when you play dodgeball and someone throws a ball at your chest. You sat up straighter and stared at him, watching him carefully. “You lied?”

He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, meeting your eyes seriously. It really looked like he might have cried. “I didn’t think it was fair to keep you from meeting new people and making new connections.”

“Then why didn’t you tell anyone we were dating?” you asked, brow low, scanning him for any signs of insincerity.

His eyes went wide. “I…I told you before, my high school friends…they weren’t so great,” he said, shaking his head. “I meant it when I was texting you about all that. How t’s hard for me to find good people.”

“And you didn’t show up to Burger King last time because…?”

He sniffled. “I meant what I said about that too. I was…really nervous. I was scared you’d be disappointed when you found out it was me.”

You sighed. “Why weren’t you just honest with me from the start?” you asked, all animosity draining from your voice as you saw him wiping his red, swelling eyes. “Back in high school. Why didn’t you just tell me all of it then?”

He sniffed and looked away. “I was scared you’d think less of me if you knew I was so insecure. And I didn’t want you to wait for me in college, not when you could’ve been out making new friends.”

“Well, the opposite happened actually,” you said with a dry laugh. “I got really worried that any friends I made would be doing it out of pity.”

Jungkook stiffened. “You…you did?”

You nodded. “Yeah…”

“Shit,” he breathed out, gripping his forehead with two hands. “I’m so stupid!”

Distantly, the sound of the rain picked up outside. You nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking at you once more, startling you with his sincerity. “I messed up so bad. I messed up everything.”

You blinked at him, standing nearly at eye-level, and slowly reached out to wipe beneath his eyes with your fingertips. “Well, you were right about one thing. I wouldn’t have accepted it had you not said what you said.”

He furrowed his brow and leaned into your touch. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” you said.

He swallowed hard and you watched his Adam’s apple bob. “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” you said with a shrug. “Now that I know everything, it’s hard to be mad at you for being a jerk when you were really just being an idiot.”

He stared at you, inching forward so he rested just between your knees. “I’m so sorry,” he said again.

“Yeah, I know,” you said, letting out half a chuckle as you let your hands drop to his shoulders, giving them a pat.

“Really,” he said, nodding once as he stared right into your eyes.

“Jungkook, it’s-,”

Before you could finish, he had closed the distance between you, one hand grasping your jaw as he pressed a kiss to your lips. You jumped back, eyes wide, and stared at him in shock. He too looked shocked, like he hadn’t meant to do it at all. He shook his head, eyebrows knit, stuttering out syllables that didn’t add up to anything.

“I-I-you-I mean-,” he sputtered, irises shaking. You noticed no small margin of fear in his eyes, like he was terrified he’d messed things up again.

I didn’t want to make any more mistakes, you know?

The words he’d trusted you with through the screen, his sincere thoughts. He really regretted it a lot, didn’t he? Your expression softened as he continued struggling to find words, and, without even really meaning to, you wrapped your fingers around his neck. He didn’t seem to notice, or he was too spooked to comment on it, but you slowly pulled him closer. Just like that day in high school, just like it was when you’d first entered hopefully into this fateful relationship, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, shutting your eyes. Stunned, he was completely still for a moment before eventually his hands moved to your hips, then slid along your sides, then hooked around your lower back. You hadn’t intended it, but the kiss was getting steamier with each passing moment. You felt his hot breath on your skin as he pulled back to adjust his position before crashing into you again.

As the fever settled down, Jungkook was the first to pull away, but only by a faction so he could speak. “I love you,” he whispered.

You stared wide-eyed at him, only inches away from you, eyes heavy-lidded and forehead resting just barely against yours. “O-Okay,” you said. It was all you could manage.

He chuckled once, still embracing you as he stood between your legs. “That’s it?”

“You expect me to say it back?” you asked.

He smiled, staring down at you. “I guess not.”

“You’re gonna have to give me some time,” you said with a nod.

He nodded too, shutting his eyes as he held you close. Slowly, he moved to rest his forehead against your shoulder, resting against the crook of your neck. “I understand.”

“Like…a lot of time probably.”

“I know.”

You let out a shaky exhale and only then did you realize your hands were shaking. As silly as it seemed, this reunion was pretty jarring to your system. The foundation on which you’d rebuilt your sense of self had broken down beneath your feet, leaving you to stand among the rubble once again. Just like back then. Everything you thought you understood had been proven wrong.

But nonetheless, you smoothed your palms against his back and rubbed gently. Not to comfort him, but to comfort yourself. To let yourself know that, even though it was scary, it was okay to trust people sometimes. Self preservation shouldn’t come at the sacrifice of human connection. And even though you knew the road ahead was going to be long and that trusting Jungkook again would take a long time and a lot of work on his end, you were ready to try.

So, as the two of you left the shop under one umbrella, you drafted a text.

You: Sua, I have SO MUCH to tell you.

#jungkook one shot #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts request #bts reader insert #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts fluff #bts angst #bts series #bts scenarios #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook reactions #jungkook request

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just-random-obsessions · 4 years

Text

Funny Moments In Thor The Dark World

Find Thor 1 here

Find Avengers 1 here

This is the second part of me watching all three thor movies and the avengers movie and comparing the humor pre-ragnarok to the humor in the 3rd Thor movie. And, as before, I’m writing this on my computer where the I and U keys don’t work so sorry for any spelling mistakes.

Tag List: @nikkoliferous @fyrecrafted @lokijiro @miskiett @darthxerik @icyxmischief @iamanartichoke @juliabohemian @official-and-unstable-satan @melodylnoelle @just-another-human-2019 @fandomsfanfiction @mentallydatingahotcelebrity @cateyes315 @burningarbiterheart @imnotacreepijustlikeyou @usedtobegoodfriend96 @alexakeyloveloki

Official-and-unstable-satan and fandomsfanfiction weren’t tagged sry

Anyone who wants to be added/removed to the tag list please let me know! and if I missed someone please also let me know. Sorry this post is so long

~ “Hello Mother. Have I made you proud?”

~ “Please don’t make things worse” “Define worse”

~ “I really don’t see what all the fuss is about”

~ “Just like you”

~ *That smile!!!!*

~ “I’ve got this completely under control!” “Is that why everything’s on fire?”

~ *About the Scary MonsterTM: “All yours”

~ *Thor says hi to the Big Scary MonsterTM*

~ “I accept your surrender”

~ “Anyone else?” *All the people simultaneously: NOPE*

~ “Perhaps next time we should START with the big one”

~ *Odin obviously shipping Thor and Jane* (idk I got a kick out of this)

~ *Jane awkwardly avoiding her date*

~ *Date: hi*

~ *Him awkwardly talking about his ex*

~ “And the fact that she kept sleeping with other men” “NO!”

~ *Darcy being mistaken for a waitress*

~ *Darcy mouthing “Cute” to Jane about Richard*

~ *Darcy embarrassing Jane by talking about Thor*

~ “Is there a point to all of this cause there REALLY needs to be a point to all of this”

~ “That’s what I said!”

~ “That’s what I did!”

~ “He’s not interested” “I’m interested” (Am I the only one who feels like his awkwardness was actually kinda cute?)

~ “He’s my intern.” “You have an intern?”

~ *Intern is fucking adorable like Richard*

~ “I have totally mastered driving in London!” *Has not mastered it at all*

~ *Selvig running around Stonehenge naked*

~ *Darcy keeps calling Ian ‘Intern’*

~ *Darcy calls Jane cause she didn’t wanna shout*

~ God I fucking love Darcy she’s so criminally underrated

~ “I am not getting stabbed in the name of science”

~ “It’s okay, we’re Americans!” “Is that supposed to make them like us?”

~ “We’re scientists-well I am” “Thanks”

~ “That doesn’t seem right”

~ “I wanna throw something! Jane give me your shoe!”

~ *Jane ignores Darcy*

~ “Give me your shoe”

~ “Were those the car keys?”

~ *Ian’s face when he realizes he threw the car keys to another planet*

~ *If you have to bury so many people then you’re doing something wrong you hot dumb fuck* (I mean that’s basically what Heimdall said right?)

~ “Typical” *after being left behind while Jane goes to talk to her boyfriend*

~ *Jane! Love of my life and most talented and beautiful person in the world oh how I love yo-SLAP*

~ “As excuses go, its not terrible”

~ “I know” “You do?” “Do what?”

~ *Darcy interrupts the KissTM*

~ “Um I’m pretty sure we are getting arrested”

~ “How’s space?” “Space is fine”

~ “He’s my intern… My intern’s intern”

~ “Holy shit!” (after Jane went up in the Bifrost)

~ *Heimdall calmly dodges the car*

~ “We have to do that again”

~ “Hello”

~ “What’s that?”

~ “It’s a soul forge” *No I’m pretty sure that’s a quantum field generator*

~ *Jane being ready to fight Odin for comparing her to a goat*

~ “You told your dad about me?”

~ “It must be so inconvenient, them asking about me day and night”

~ “Please meet my mother” *Jane shies away from Thor*

~ Loki casually tossing the thingamajig in the air like the cute little shit he is

~ Lord, he’s so damn pretty

~ *Kurse being like: Lol I ain’t touchin’ that boy with a ten foot pole*

~ “It’s as if they resent being in prison”

~ “There’s no pleasing some creatures”

~ *Loki calmly reading a book while all Hel breaks loose*

~ “You have my word that no harm will come to yo-” nvm bitch die

~ *THAT look between Sif and Jane*

~ *Frigga immediately seeing through Odin’s bs lies*

~ *Heimdall: I have defeated the big space ship!! The bigger one behind him: Bitch you thought*

~ “WITCH!!!!” *Now I know who Loki gets his amazing aforementioned smile from*

~ *Selvig using shoes to explain complicated science*

~ *Selvig then using pencils*

~ “Any questions?” “Yeah, can I have my shoe back?”

~ “What’s SHIELD?” “It’s a secret”

~ *Darcy’s cute af face when she sees that Selvig is in the mental hospital*

~ “Are you sure you wouldn’t just rather punch your way out?”

~ *Loki shapeshifting into the guard*

~ “Mmm Brother, you look ravishing”

~ “Costumes a bit much”

~ “So tight!”

~ “I can FEEL the righteousness surging!!”

~ “HEY wanna have a rousing discussion about truth?”

~ “Honor?”

~ “Patriotism?”

~ “GOD BLESS AMERICA!”

~ “At last. A little common sens-”Bitch are you really fucking kidding me? (What do you mean that’s not what he said?)

~ “I thought you liked tricks”

~ “I’m Loki, you may have heard of-” SLAP

~ “That was for New York”

~ “I like her”

~ *Loki gazing lovingly at Jane in the background*

~ “Betray him, and I’ll kill you.” “It’s good to see you too Sif”

~ “If you even think about betraying him-” “You’ll kill me? Evidently there will be a line”

~ “I thought you said you knew how to fly this thing.” “I said how hard can it be?”

~ “Whatever your doing brother I suggest you do it faster.” “Shut up Loki

~ “You must’ve missed something.” “I didn’t, I’m pressing every button on this thing”

~ “Well don’t hit it. Just press it, gently.” “I aM pReSsInG iT gEnTlY AND ITS NOT WORKING!!!”

~ *Thor starts slamming buttons and it starts working*

~ *Volstagg: Oh fighting is much fun- OH SHIT IM FALLING!! HELP!!!*

~ “I think you missed a column.” “Shut up”

~ “Why don’t you let me take over? I’m clearly the best pilot”

~ *Bitch I’m the one who can actually fly*

~ “Oh dear. Is she dead?”

~ *Thor knocks over a column* “Not a word”

~ “Now they’re following us”

~ “Now they’re firing at us”

~ “Yes thank you for the commentary Loki, it’s not at all distracting”

~ “Well done, you just decapitated your grandfather”

~ *Seriously, whoever wrote the escape scene is a genius!!!*

~ *Loki yelling at Thor about how thIs was a bad idea you dumb fuck- wait wtf are you doing AAAAHHHHH!!!!1*

~ “You lied to me. I’m impressed”

~ *That smile again snfnejaihfeqrqrsbdsalxdjewonjfeq*

~ “For Asgard!” YEET

~ “Nothing personal boys!”

~ “If it were easy, everyone would do it”

~ “Are you mad?” “Possibly”

~ “TADAAA”

~ “Oh yeah, my father. Eric Selvig”

~ “And these” “yeah… those”

~ “How did you find me?” “You were naked on television”

~ “I don’t get paid enough. I don’t get paid at all”

~ “What’s happening? Birds? Birds are happening?”

~ “All right are you ready?” “I am”

~ *phone rings* “It’s not me”

~ “Why are there so many shoes in here?”

~ “I’ll just text her”

~ “So who’s Richard?”

~ *Thor hanging his hammer on a coat hanger*

~ “Where are your pants?” “Oh he says it helps him think”

~ “Loki is dead” “Oh thank God!”

~ “Better get my pants”

~ “Do you even know what these things do?” “No” “…Neither do I”

~ “Ooh get the guy with the sword!”

~ “Oops”

~ *Ian’s high-pitched scream*

~ *Does car insurance cover My Car Was Sucked Into Another Planet Due To A Cosmic Event That Only Occurs Once Every 5000 Years or no?*

~ *Thor and Malekith fighting between worlds and poor little Mjolnir trying to keep up*

~ *The two of them against windows*

~ *AAAHHH*

~ *Awww! Look at the cute little Jotunheim monster! He’s so adorable I wanna pet him so much!’

~ *Darcy and Ian kissing after he saved her life*

~ “Darcy?” “Jane!” “Ian?” “Selvig.”

~ “Myuh Myuh!!”

~ *Thor ends up on the subway*

~ *The girl taking 50 photos*

~ *Thor and the woman colliding into eachother*

~ “I’ve come to accept your surrender”

~ *Malekith gets crushed by his own ship. Now that’s some lovely karma right there*

~ *Darcy and Ian go back to kissing*

~ “He kinda committed treason on our way out” oops

~ Jotunheim Puppy chasing birds

Wow I’m so sorry this was so long. But guess what? It’s gonna get even longer. Sorry, again.

So one of the differences between the first and second Thor movies is that Thor 2 has humor in the climax whereas Thor 1 doesn’t. This is because of the differences with who is the villain. In Thor 1, Thor is having to fight his brother. To quote Avengers, they “played together and fought together” for several millennia. Of course there’s not going to be any humor in it cause there shouldn’t be. The climax at the end of the movie isn’t supposed to be some epic battle between the forces of Good TM and Bad TM. It’s supposed to be tragic that he’s having to fight his own brother because Loki lost his mind due to so many factors. The last joke in the film is “You’re an amazon liar brother, always have been” “It’s good to have you back”. There’s nothing else till the end credit scene. That’s because Kenneth Branagh knew that this was supposed to be viewed at as being sad a hopeless, not some awesome upbeat battle.

Thor 2 on the other hand, is exactly that. Thor has known Malekith for.. what? 2 days? Maybe 3? His relationship and dynamic with Malekith is different than with his brother. To Thor, this is just another enemy attacking Asgard. And I’m not sure whether this was intentional or not (because I remember reading somewhere how Allen Taylor had a bitch of a time in the editing process so I think the movie came out different than he intended) but the lack of any personal relationship will Malekith means the film can make really funny jokes and still have it fit with the film. If anything, I might even argue that the humor helped the film to maintain a very nice positive vibe. Idk I can’t think of the right words to explain it but the jokes actually fit the film very well.

However, then we move on to Ragnarok. With Ragnarok, Thor is fighting his sister. While (just like Malekith) he has only known her for two days, that still doesn’t take away the fact that he is having to fight his sibling. And I’m not a film director but if I had the option of approaching this situation and taking it the Thor 1 route or the the Thor 2 route, I’d go with Thor 1. Because it’s actually incredibly tragic that Hela has been driven to insanity like Loki (though ok a different level) due to Odin’s shitty parenting. She is the horrible way she is because Odin made her that way. And that could’ve been an AMAZINGLY complex story with the audience feeling so much sympathy for Hela like we did with Loki in Thor 1, but the narrative just falls flat for two reasons. 1) Taika admitted he didn’t want the film to be emotionally complex so 2) The humor in the climax completely detracts from the seriousness of the situation.

Also, some side notes: Yes, this is edited from the original. I accidentally deleted everything and then had to go back and add everything back in. So I also had to re-tag people too. And I also added a bit more explanation at the end. I meant to do so when I originally posted but it never got done till now. Sry. Also sry that it’s so long

#dr badass jane foster #anti ragnarok #anti thor ragnarok #my meta #thor the dark world #thor 2 #thor #loki

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momecat · 4 years

Text

wtf is happening with tumblr

ive been sort of mia due to rl stuff and when i poke my head in they’ve upended everything again with some weird roll out feature that’s currently only affecting some people(????) but that is totally messing up my dash.

here are some examples of some excellent new tumblr features:

it now tags posts that appear to have the American incumbent related content with a content warning??? it’s not part of my blacklist - it’s a literal feature?? with no context except that the post may contain something that warrants warnings.

I mean i wish something like this existed elsewhere as well - cuz im sick and tired of seeing stuff about that guy - or knowing that others see and are affected by him... but is this really the way??? (for transparency: the post itself had little to do with the person in question. More relating to Tucker Carlson. Who warrants a warning label all by himself tbh) I feel like this isn’t the right way of stopping misinformation, hate speech or anything - as you’ve probably noticed I am refraining from including the incumbent’s name in this post, for worry that my post might get tagged as well.

That’s not how things should work. We need more transparency around these types of tagging process. thx.

That brings me to the other weird occurrence on my dash since logging back on: a lack of context about who is reblogging stuff anymore.

When you reblog now - previous comments only appear with a dash across the post under them - without name/time/info about who wrote what in the post itself.

So text-posts look like someone is having a very confused conversation with themselves, as evidenced below.

these are the two glaring things I have noticed so far.

So not only aren’t posts showing up in tags anymore, and sometimes not on people’s dashboards (despite following said person) + you can’t see your own posts on the dashboard anymore. the usage of this site is getting even more confusing.

I was hoping them allowing support of xkit would mean they were maaaybe somewhat listening to their userbase, but nah. seems like they’re still hellbent on driving any sane user off this terrible site.

edit: previous tags used also seem to carry on with subsequent reblogs. i.e. if someone previously tagged something it doesn’t matter what the following person tags or doesn’t tag, the post will now be caught by that # by blacklists.

which might be a good thing? idk. it is strange seeing untagged reblogs get blacklisted though.

Anyway. Anyone else dealing with these things? Have you figured out how to go back to the old settings? xkit doesn’t seem to have fixed it yet... and half the time tumblr is now turning off my xkit :/ help. how am i supposed to use this site now.

#tumblr #tumblr issues #staff #update #issues #text #same old same old #tumblr rolls out an update and it fucks up everything #ughhh

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warmbeebosoftbeebo · 4 years

Note

/PAVLOVEWHORE/status/1315759891668242433?s=20 on twitter

oh her (she also thinks b is grooming kids because his music is appealing to them, the puppet, etc, and thinks grooming means... culture appealing to kids and younger adults? when it means a significantly/much older person building a relationship with a kid, introducing them inappropriately to sex eg porn, pornographic phallocentric sexuality, in order to sexually abuse/exploit them. so she may be suggesting that b’s doing it so he can have more kids to abuse a la the anon accusations). if you (general you, not the anon specifically) read ronan farrow’s catch and kill you know rich men protect themselves by doing crazy shit (spying, ndas, trashing accusers, blackballing women who rejected them or spoke out about sexual assault, catching and killing accusations) and this new accusation is in that same boat of crazy shit... but a non-plausible crazy shit.

why would someone rich (unless this was happening vices era and before, when b and sarah were far from rich) bribe FANS to have accounts online smack talking breezy, dallon, accusers, etc. if so, they’re doing a terrible job, because there is so much shit being said about b, and now sarah, it’s unreal. (with zack, there are both substantiated and unsubstantiated, anonymous claims. i find some of the later claims plausible. he’s being taken far less out of context than b is. i don’t think he’s absolutely evil, but he’s clearly sexually harassed breezy, has been sexist/misogynist on his twitter, etc. i’ve talked about this more my tag for him.) i’ve come across comments on twitter, instagram, etc where two to none of the claims made about him are true the rest are... idk where most of this bullshit comes from. i’m tempted to do a debunker side blog here (eg the plausible, implausible, true, definitely false, etc). the rumor mill is really something. especially in the age of social media online.

i don’t think sarah and zack would do this. as we have seen over this summer fangirls (and boys) turn on their idols like WHOA. gives one whiplash just looking at it. it would be profoundly STUPID and shortsighted to use fans, because today’s fan is often tomorrow’s basher. fans also have no... loyalty in a sense to their celeb (eg it’s not like a religion, political belief system, country even), no job on the line, no contract, no lawsuit worries... all it would take for this to come out if it were true is someone within that circle of fans getting bribes to smack talk breezy to turn on sarah and/or zack and blab to others, show screenshots, etc. it could NEVER be private very long. even not turning per se, but just realizing it was wrong and sharing the convos, etc they had with them publicly. fans also LOVE talking about and showing the contact we have with our chosen celebs and celeb adjacent people, posting about it publicly. seriously, it is so foolish to try to have private GROUP convos where people bribe TEENAGERS and 20somethings with merch, tickets, photo ops, private photos of b, etc both on the levels of the youth and frequent fickleness of fans (how many leave an artist/show/fandom/franchise/etc after months, a year, a few years...), plus the outrage culture/cancel culture going on where some of the outraged are former fans, etc.

even employees who agree to spy, hack, create fake personas online and in person, etc can turn on their employer, but someone who’s just there as a fan? there is literally not just no guarantee it won’t be found out, it probably fucking will. and quickly at that. the question is more when than if.

this situation, if it did happen, is also plausibly someone pretending to be sarah and/or zack and catfishing fans. chelsey was mentioned, and frankly... this is in her wheelhouse. she has extensively impersonated b and others online, for a few years. she has also hacked accounts and gotten photos/video of b that were supposed to be not public. and another important question, did these freebies eg ticket upgrades, photo ops with b, materialize? or did they not happen? the fact that some girls can be seen on the tour vids doesn’t prove they got them as a quid pro quo in exchange for slandering others and defending b online at all. (btw, the fact that there are chelsey defenders absolutely ASTONISHES me. wtf. there’s a lot we don’t know with breezy, b, etc so i can see to some extent people based on part of the picture, siding with “one side” and deriding the other, but with her? how? what?)

i know this is a crazy fucking idea on twitter for sure, and probably elsewhere online, but one (like me) can like both breezy & dallon AND brendon & sarah. fucking deranged, isn’t it, in this polarized fandom/these fandoms. b is getting the worst of it, but breezy is getting a lot of shit too. and i feel sorry for both of them in particular. again, the rumor mill: assertions of fact without evidence, even people coming forward with their names/faces, being spread around like wildfire and taken as confirmed, undoubtedly true fact eg the claim that breezy said that b knew about all the sexual harassments by zack of her the whole time (eg how could he have? eg how would he know what zack texts her? he obviously would have known some of it but those likely seemed in line with the joking around they did, would be my guess. i also think his anxiety and trying to fit in can come into play. he may have been a bystander to things zack did that crossed lines eg with breezy, idk. speaking of speculation, here’s me doing it. i also don’t think b did nothing wrong, and i’ve also talked about various things when i’ve come across them that i’ve had a problem with.

there’s also aspects going on that i want to delve into, but i’m debating eg that one young male fan who’s apparently friendly with breezy and dallon now but used to be obsessed with b (including making sexual comments to him on twitter, wanting to look like him) and is claiming zack took advantage of him (jobwise). seems to be a history of mental instability there and a serious lack of boundaries. it’s not about monstering him; i feel bad for him.

edit to add i’m still reading things on twitter, what i can find anyway, and another thing i’m ambiguous about discussing is breezy’s dms with others because ppl are posting screenshots. obv there’s more to read there too. in one she thought zack was doing the getting fans to target her and dallon thing in exchange for perks eg meet n greets. the closest she’s gotten to saying anything bad about b was saying he wasn’t always sweet (didn’t say if it was to her and/or dallon) and that she thinks he could have changed, that i’ve seen posted anyway.

also, there’s posts ppl are screenshotting of breezy from years ago to say how gross or disgusting or whatever she is and i’m just like “she’s so saucy, i love her.” it’s mostly pg level stuff too, and mostly about dallon, or brallon. like i said before, notice how what damns breezy (being sexual) excuses zack to many people. at most he’s an “old school roadie” who might have an apology to make, they dunno, but not really, people are so sensitive and breezy is a bitch who is to blame for everything. (seriously, there’s people who think she started it all eg the firezackhall tag, and somehow the accusations against b too. fuck outta here.)

#abuse allegations #speakupbrendonurie #zack hall #brendon urie #sarah orzechowski #sarah urie #chelsey #breezy

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starker-stories · 4 years

Text

The Cold, Chapter 7 - The Messages Series

This chapter on AO3

By @thestarkerisobvious and @starker-stories

New chapters in the series post every Thursday.

All links are to AO3. You don’t need to be a creator to have an AO3 account. You can have one solely as a reader. But to read anything at all in this series, you can just be an anonymous reader and/or commenter.

The best way to keep up with The Cold is to subscribe to the story on AO3. And the best way to keep up with the Messages Series is also to subscribe to it as well as the individual stories. That way you’ll know when the next book is added.

Tags: Tony Stark Feels, Peter Parker Feels, College Student Peter Parker, Established Relationship, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Tony Stark Still Has Arc Reactor, Arc Reactor Kink, Peter Parker is a Mess, Spider-Man powers, Communication, They Finally Communicate!, And Fuck Of Course Look at Who It’s Written By Of Course They Fuck, Avengers Compound

The entire Messages Series. All links are to AO3.

Messages Unsent (complete & posted)

Nothing More Than A Machine (complete & posted)

Tomorrow (complete & posted)

My Virgin (Revisited) (completely & posted)

The Cold (completely written) Posts Every Thursday

There’s been a change.

The Cold is the final book in the main line of the Messages series. There is this one and three more chapters until the end (10 chapters total.) The story has been completely finished and is ready to post to schedule.

What were formerly the last two chapters will be written as Messages Interludes and won’t be posted to the same schedule that Messages has been.

The best way to follow them is to subscribe to the Interludes series link. These stories involve time jumps that make them their own separate thing from the contiguous week that Peter and Tony have been through in Messages.

The Opposite of Cold ( in progress )

Untitled ( in progress )

Note: There is some Italian in the chapter. It’s left untranslated until a note at the end of the chapter to put the reader in Peter’s head. If you speak Italian, obviously this little gambit won’t work on you. If you are an Italian speaker and we’ve gotten it wrong, please leave us a comment with the correction and we’ll make it.

Chapter 7: Faremo L'amore Ogni Notte

She guided him away and they headed to her lab, leaving Tony behind in her office.

Tony agreed that what was discussed between Peter and Helen would remain between them. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous about what was happening. Instead of pacing the courtyard, making a nuisance of himself, he headed to his long-disused personal labs two floors up.

Cleaning the place up, activating and repairing the equipment, it all took time. He checked his watch. Not enough time. Peter was still gone, still downstairs with Helen. He looked up what he’d been working on when he was here last, years ago.

There was little to distract him. Going over his notes on his development of the nanotech for his and Peter’s suits was interesting in a ‘historical record’ sort of way, though the data wouldn’t become part of that until long after it had ceased to be useful to him.

Watch-checking time again. Tony’s inability to keep himself distracted for more than, at most, an hour was annoying. He was sitting in what had been the top lab in the country, and he couldn’t find anything to do. Because his mind was still two floors down. Where he had no idea what was going on. Tony wasn’t sure which was worse. The possibility that something could be wrong or the fact that he couldn’t see it even if there wasn’t anything wrong.

Peter’s texts finally interrupted him.

We’re still talking

Still talking

Hey can you send me that vid of me stopping the car? The first one? Can’t find it.

Can you send me my laser-course stats?

Thanx

Ok headed to the examination room now.

The updates were at least keeping Tony from going completely crazy. But they also kept him from getting involved in anything truly distracting. So their effect was to have him sitting there, doing nothing, staring at his phone, waiting for the next one.

He wanted to text back, to find out more, but he didn’t want to interrupt an exam or a test. He had no idea what was going on before or after the texts. So he just stared at his phone waiting for the next notification.

Omg I haven’t been naked at the doctor since I was 13

This is not a gown this is paper wtf?!

Finally Peter texted him again. The medical exam was over (I get to put on my clothes now) and he and ‘Helen’ were going for a walk.

At that, Tony’s resolve not to spy on Peter broke. He could control things in Helen’s office. He could control things on the entire medical floor. A ‘walk’? Where? Under whose watchful eyes and ears?

Finally, after the cameras showed them heading outside, he gave the monitoring over to FRIDAY. “Track them, turn the surveillance off as they move along the grid, block communication from anyone who sees them and decides to talk about it. I want them in total privacy, from everything and everyone.”

Tony paused. “Even me,” he added, abiding not by the rules Helen gave him, but by the rules he set for himself after their argument.

After an hour, he got another text.

Were on our way back headed to the cafeteria. Im starving

Tony took the elevator down to the atrium level where the cafeteria and the entrance from outside was. He tried not to be, but he was a little terse when he met Peter and Helen at the door. He looked at Helen. “You and I need to have a conversation.”

Helen flashed him a sunny smile, then turned to Peter. “You won’t believe it, but the pizza here is actually good. I’ll see you after?” After Peter was gone, Helen looked back at Tony, but her smile didn’t fade. Most people would have been alarmed to find themselves at the receiving end of a Tony Stark Glare. Helen Cho, of course, was not most people.

“Your office, Doctor?” Tony said, waving his hand in that direction. He was too involved in his own conspiracy theories to notice Helen’s unflappable demeanor. When they arrived, he shut the door behind them. The windows that looked out onto the atrium darkened, the active monitoring lights turned off on the cameras.

“Why the hell did you take him outside into an uncontrolled environment? Are you asking for the spies in the building to know that he had to see you about something? That alone right there is more information than I wanted out about this. So what’s with the doctor/patient confidentiality? That doesn’t apply suddenly?”

Dr. Cho looked mildly surprised at Tony’s accusatory tone, but only shrugged.

“Sorry, it’s now confidential that I met Spider-Man? My bad.”

“Everything about this is confidentential, I thought I made that clear. Fury, New-Cap, no one is supposed to know anything about anything. Just knowing that Peter is talking to you lets them know that something is up with Spider-Man. That will get them curious.

"All anyone knows is that we came here so I could show off the labs to Peter and make sure New-Cap accepts him as an Avenger. Coming here to see you? Getting tested? That was never on the agenda.”

“Good thing you’ve secured my office, then. We’ll go over the details after Peter achieves some caloric intake. I have theories.”

“That’s great. It’s what Peter needs. I want him to have your theories, your conclusions. But I want him to have them. No one else.”

“And you made that clear when you tried to bribe me for my silence, Tony,” Helen said, stepping closer, her patient face hardening a bit. “Peter wanted to go for a walk. He had things he wanted to talk about, and he did. And for the record? I can think of sixteen things we could have been talking about without even trying, and the fact that YOU can’t think of a few is a little telling. Not that he needs an alibi for finding his own personal physician... do you realize he hasn’t had a physical since he was fourteen?” She shook her head in disbelief. “He hasn’t even gotten all his shots! Not that it matters but still… just the idea…

“In any case, Peter is my priority now. If he wants to tell me about the things on his mind in a field, or a laboratory, or an alien spaceship it’s his call. Not yours.”

“He still thinks the Avengers are one big happy family spending nights in pillow forts, watching movies, and eating popcorn. He has no idea of the risk. You can’t trust his ability to know where he should be talking to you. He still… he still fucking trusts people.”

She reached out to touch Tony’s arm briefly. “Well, we know better, don’t we? You were right to call me in on this one.” Helen’s tone was gentler now. “I’m glad he’s got you in his corner on this one, Tony. He may need you. You may be protecting the real next Captain America…”

“Over my dead fucking body,” Tony interrupted hotly.

“…And I’m not sure he’s ready to say ‘no’ to Nick Fury. But I know you. You were born ready.

“I think you two make a good team.”

Tony sighed, a little more relieved. At least Helen saw through some of the smoke and mirrors that surrounded her. “He trusts people. But… he’s the only one… I trust.”

There was silence for a moment. Only when he turned to look at Helen did she speak again.

“I’m glad, Tony. You, more than anyone else on this planet, have earned the right to every single trust issue you own, and then some. But you trust me to an extent, or you wouldn’t have called me. And I’m glad you did. And for the record? I think he’s adorable, and you make a very sweet couple.

“Now shut the fuck up and stop telling me how to do my job,” she said dismisvely, turning back to her desk and pointing at the door. “Go debate the propriety of pineapple on pizza with your boyfriend. I’ll meet you two back here when he’s done eating.”

Tony nodded. He knew he had no objectivity on this issue. Just being here was the last place he wanted to be, which he’d tried to explain… No, he hadn’t tried to explain, just expected Peter to somehow intuit — which wasn’t really fair. Nor was it fair to Helen to blame her for what went on around her.

“Is that even a debate? Of course pineapple belongs on pizza,” Tony said smiling as he left to go find Peter.

Peter had, in fact, already scarfed down his pizza and was on his way to find Tony. He only glanced around for a moment to make sure they were alone before he wrapped his arms around Tony and hugged him fiercely.

“Thank you for this,” he whispered.

Tony smiled and put a kiss on — not the top of Peter’s head anymore! — Peter’s cheek. “Helen says she has ideas. So, I’m glad we were able to come.”

When they entered Helen’s office, she was pulling up a chart on her holoscreen, using her finger to add Peter’s numbers.

“Now, obviously I can’t chart a line based on one point. I’ll need more data. Peter and I may have to talk once year, twice a year ideally. But based on his memory and what data you gave me, I have some theories. Peter’s weight, muscle mass, and BMI put him solidly average, though his height is in the lower 25% until this last growth spurt. Still very average. Nothing anyone can do about that. Now — the jumps in his performance scores look drastic, but not if you take into consideration that the recorded scores from when he was sixteen were inaccurate. According to him he was holding back. But given the stats you calculated in high-adrenaline situations, catching moving vehicles, going hand to hand with the Winter Soldier, I’ve made different estimates. And that gives us a trajectory that looks like this.”

She drew the line with one finger, then hovered over the chart already on the screen.

“The numbers appear extreme, but the math is ultimately the same. A non-enhanced male of Peter’s age, weight and healthy caloric intake, not to mention his daily workout schedule…

“Yes,” she interrupted as Peter tried to correct her. “You swing your bodyweight through over the streets of New York City for hours almost daily, you weren’t taking that into account.”

“So a non-enhanced young adult male’s trajectory would look the same as the one Peter is making now. If my theory holds he’ll peak the same time a non-enhanced male would peak, then begin to decline the same way.” She looked at Peter, as if asking permission to continue.

Peter only nodded and looked at Tony. He was nothing but smiles. He seemed pleased and relieved. When Helen kept looking at him, waiting for that permission to come, Peter decided that it didn’t need to. They were finished talking.

The numbers didn’t matter any longer. They’d discussed them during their walk. What mattered was that he was growing at a normal — for non-normal — rate. It would stop. He’d reach a peak and not just keep growing ridiculously forever. There would come a point where he didn’t have to keep being afraid of his ability. He could just learn how to work within it. He’d learn his limits. Then he wouldn’t hurt anyone else. And he wouldn’t hurt Tony. That was what both of them needed to know.

The meeting ended with cell phones out and schedules compared, Peter and Dr. Cho making plans six months in the future and exchanging numbers. Tony copying the dates in his. Peter hugged Dr. Cho before they left the office, then once again as they said goodbye.

“Did you get the answers you were looking for?” Tony asked as they left Helen’s office, heading to the residence wing.

“Yes, I mean no, but I got some decent theories. Which beat the fuck out of my theories. My theories were just too scary. Helen put it all into perspective. She’s awesome. Thank you, Tony.”

They left the medical wing for the stairs in the lobby, then down them, holding hands.

They had decided to kill the rest of the day by heading to the pool ‘to relax’. Peter’s manic need to perform feats of strength had cooled. They talked, they joked, they made up conversations in between Sam and Bucky who, they assured each other, were watching them at every moment. Peter matched Tony joke for raunchy joke, laughing freely and easily.

Tony smiled, sneaking glances at Peter when the kid wouldn’t notice. He hadn’t seen Peter this relaxed and easy since, well, since his work started to impinge on their lives. Peter’s happiness started to slip away when they’d meet up at different hotels in the city as something fun and different from the penthouse. At first, Peter would get excited and they’d laugh and play around with things in the suite, even bouncing like a kid on the very soft and bouncy beds.

That seemed like a long, long time ago. As Tony drifted away from their life, Peter also drifted away. Now, his Peter was back.

They did laps, at which Peter would’ve beat Tony easily if the kid hadn’t been acting like a dolphin following a ship, diving and ducking underneath him, swerving in patterns, even leaping up and over Tony’s body.

More than once Peter made bets he could hold his breath for ‘this long’, bets he always lost, unable to resist surfacing directly under Tony to grab him and lift him into the air.

The kid was a fish. Their swimming quickly turned into nothing but playing, splashing, dunking. And a lot of teasing. A kiss stolen and then swam away from. An ‘accidental’ brush against somewhere while coming up from a dive.

Tony let himself go. He couldn’t remember when he’d last played around in the water. Or even if he had ever just played around in the water. If the surveillance to the pool room hadn’t been turned off, no one watching would’ve believed that it was Tony Stark down there, laughing and smiling and playing.

“There’s a huge pool at my house in Naples. I’m taking you there. It’ll be just like this for a week. Only better. New-Cap and the Manchurian Candidate won’t be trying to spy on us.”

“Take me to Italy,” Peter said, grinning, swimming into Tony’s arms for another kiss. “Take me somewhere where I don’t know anything, and teach me all of it. Maybe we won’t come back.”

“Andremo in Italia. Nuoteremo in piscina ogni mattina. Faremo l'amore ogni notte.”

“Mmmmm… more. I love being ignorant.”

“I’ll take away your phone and you won’t be able to use ‘translate’,” Tony grinned.

“The less I know the better. I’ll just assume you’re telling me a dirty joke.”

“You’ll have to trust that I’m correctly teaching you what to say. That I’m not having you to insult someone and get us chased out of the restaurant,” Tony clenched his fist and sprayed a squirt of water at Peter’s face.

“Ti comprerò diamanti e quell'orologio e ti rovinerò marcio.”

“I agree! I assume it’s about sex, and I agree.”

“Ti porterò in ogni ristorante di lusso che riesco a trovare. Indosserai scarpe italiane da mille dollari. Ti misurerò per un abito da uomo che costa più di quanto la maggior parte della gente guadagni in una settimana.”

“Yes! I’m unfazeable,” Peter said, laughing. “Whatever it is, I’m in.”

“E quando arriviamo a casa, ti scoperò nel culo così forte che non puoi camminare. Ti lascerò persino toccarmi lì.”

“I’ll assume that means ‘I want to have sex in the pool’,” Peter said, sinking straight down, nuzzling Tony’s cock for a moment before swimming away.

“Voglio fare sesso in piscina,” Tony shouted just before Peter dove again, this time swimming all the way down to the bottom of the deep end.

Peter didn’t spring back up like he’d been doing. A whole minute passed and he was still sitting, cross-legged, at the bottom. Tony frowned and looked down at the distorted image through the water. He counted another ten, fifteen seconds before he dove down. Paddling in front of Peter he looked into the kid’s face. His hair was waving through the water, looking like a mermaid. His eyes were open and he was grinning.

When they had laughed themselves silly and their fingers were getting pruned, Peter and Tony headed to the changing room, showered off and dressed. When they hit the common room, Tony’s hair was slicked back wet, and Peter’s kept falling over his forehead in little ringlets.

Cooking and eating together, they spared only a socially required greeting then ignored any conversation attempts. They were alone in the large room, regardless of who was there around them. Their conversation ranged through the adaptations Tony would be working on for Peter’s suit to the new webbing Peter would create for it. They had no worries about the security of their discussion. No one would understand what they said, even if overheard.

Peter still teased about the pool, his dive, and how it had scared Tony. Tony was still breaking into Italian as he described what he would cook for Peter in Naples and how he would spoil him.

As they sat down to the table, a robot that no one even knew was in the compound came up to them, bringing a bottle of wine from a private cellar that, also, no one knew was in the compound.

By the time dinner was made and finished, they were dry, well fed, and in good humor. They headed to Tony’s suite, leaving behind a befuddled Sam, staring at Tony laughing like he must’ve been an alien left to replace the real Tony Stark.

Italian translations:

The title

Faremo L'amore Ogni Notte - We'll make love all night

Within the text

Andremo in Italia. Nuoteremo in piscina ogni mattina. Faremo l'amore ogni notte. - We will go to Italy. We will swim in the pool every morning. We will make love every night.

Ti comprerò diamanti e quell'orologio e ti rovinerò marcio. - I'll buy you diamonds and that watch and spoil you rotten.

Ti porterò in ogni ristorante di lusso che riesco a trovare. Indosserai scarpe italiane da mille dollari. Ti misurerò per un abito da uomo che costa più di quanto la maggior parte della gente guadagni in una settimana. - I will take you to every luxury restaurant I can find. You will wear Italian thousand dollar shoes. I'll measure you for a men's suit that costs more than most people earn in a week.

E quando arriviamo a casa, ti scoperò nel culo così forte che non puoi camminare. Ti lascerò persino toccarmi lì. - And when we get home, I’ll fuck you in the ass so hard that you can't walk. I'll even let you touch me there.

Voglio fare sesso in piscina. - I want to have sex in the pool.

#Starker #messages series #Messages Cold #Von writes stuff #thewitchway writes stuff

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mithranqueersmusings · 4 years

Text

Before This Dance Is Through V

Chapter: 5/16

Rating: M (Smut Warning)

Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.

Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Despite what John had suggested, Ringo didn't go back to The Helter Skelter the following week; he'd considered it when John sent him yet another late night text but ultimately decided it wasn't the best idea. Spike had been playing on his mind daily and Ringo wasn't sure he was prepared to face him again. Instead he focused on his drumming and searched for a few more students to teach, which were fairly easy to find. Usually Ringo enjoyed his time off, he understood he was lucky that he didn't have to work a 9-5 job just to get by, but recently he wanted his fill his time up as much as possible, to distract himself.

One of his new students seemed incredibly interested in him, they'd spent an hour just chatting in his living room before they'd even moved over to the drum kit. Ringo wasn't too fussed, he was getting paid by the hour so wasting time was beneficial to him but he didn't want to give the guy the wrong impression. He was a little bit older and attractive enough but Ringo simply wasn't interested.

"Why didn't you just go for it?" John had asked him when they next met up.

"I dunno..." Ringo mumbled, but a part of him knew very well.

He'd given the guy another lesson since then and it became clear that the guy's interest in him wasn't going away any time soon. Ringo felt bad about the whole thing, wasn't he just doing exactly what Spike was doing to him? He tried to act as professional as possible the second time around in attempt to get the guy to back off, considering he hadn't heard from him since he was hoping it had worked. What was wrong with him? Was he really going to make himself suffer like this all because of one guy? And not just any guy, a stripper who had shown absolutely no interest in him at all. It was ridiculous, he kept telling himself, but no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he had to get over Spike, he would still think about him every day without fail. Trying to distract himself with clients had been working somewhat, but it had been difficult, especially when his best friend was John Lennon.

youre gonna love me

The text came through when Ringo was sat in a café getting some lunch. He'd finished with one of his younger students, a sweet girl who's parents had tried to convince her to try a more 'ladylike' instrument but she had promised only to give up the drums if she was awful; much to her delight, and Ringo's for being able to prove the stereotypical parents wrong, she was pretty good. Seeing her always put Ringo in a good mood, the parents mostly stayed away partly due to the noise but mostly due to disappointment, which meant they could joke around together. Ringo could tell she admired him and he welcomed it gladly, one of the best things about teaching was inspiring others, at least for him it was.

do i not already?

well yes but youre gonna love me EVEN more

what have you done

well i happened to stop by the club last night

oh god what did you do

wow is that how little you trust me

can you blame me

suppose not ANYWAY i got talking to paulie

surprise surprise

do you want the good news or not???

fine fine sorry

AS I WAS SAYING i was talking to paulie and he told me that your special little someone has an onlyfans account

first of all fuck you for calling him that second of all wtf is onlyfans

oh sorry i didnt realise you werent living in the 21st century

...... care to grace me with your knowledge?

basically its a website where you can post exclusive stuff for ONLY FANS to see its not a porn site or anything but its basically where people sell their nudes MEANING spike has an account so you can totally see loads of raunchy filthy perverted pics of him

but i have to pay?

well weve all gotta make a living

i can basically see him naked for free

but this way you wont get all freaked out and embarrassed well you will but nobody will know at least so do you want the link or not???

Ringo paused for a few moments, he was gripping his phone tightly in both of his hands as he unblinkingly looked at John's words. If his mind was going to decide to make him suffer by enabling his intense interest in Spike, he may as well get something out of it.

fine

where are your manners richard??

can i please have the link to the strippers nude photos please john please

alright calm down let me know if its worth while i might have a look

idk if im even gonna look at it paying for porn is a little dated

treat yourself ringo id offer to pay but im broke

if youre broke why were you at the strip club last night?

well SOMEONE had to go

they really didnt

im supporting my local economy

i dont think thats how that works

sure it is anyway here you go

Ringo stared at the link for a while, his eyes even began to blur, he didn't want to risk opening it in public even though he knew there was little chance of anyone seeing. He finished his lunch in a hurry and headed home quickly, only when he was in the privacy of his bedroom did he dare open it. First he had to make an account, when he saw the screen loading up asking for an email address and password he just turned his screen off and put the phone down. This was far too much effort for something he shouldn't really have been doing in the first place. But it only took a few minutes for him to pick the phone back up and begin signing up, he used an old email as it felt less seedy that way and he didn't want to risk his name cropping up anywhere for Spike to see. Now he could load up the link properly and take a proper look at Spike's profile.

Just looking at the small profile picture was enough to startle Ringo a little, the dark eyes looking into the camera with that unreadable glimmer behind them. He was shirtless in the picture, Ringo wondered why that didn't catch his attention first, with the frame cutting off just before it showed anything too explicit. The header was a photo taken from the club, showing him in tight, leather pants and tassels on his nipples which matched the whip he held in his hand. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He'd spent so much time and effort trying not to think about this man, attempting to keep him out of his mind as much as possible. Ringo knew that if he went through with this all that progress would be lost, he'd be giving in to whatever strange obsession he'd developed for Spike, one that no doubt wasn't going to lead to anything good.

Ringo kept staring at the screen as though it was going to tell him what he should do. Spike's profile had no description, which wasn't very surprising, and it dashed any hope Ringo had of discovering something new about him. Right before he was about to put his phone down again, it vibrated.

howd the wank go??

john i dont care how long weve been friends asking how my wank was will always be weird

youre right sorry so how did it go???

if you must know i havent had a wank i havent even paid for entry

now whos the one being inappropriate??

ha ha

why havent you???

feels weird

oh i see youll consume a bunch of unethical porn for free but god forbid you actually give sex workers any actual money

you are the last person who can lecture me about unethical porn

hey now watch yourself ringo if you dont get a subscription I WILL

go ahead

and ill tell you every day what sexy sexy pictures hes posting ill tell you EVERY SINGLE TIME i have a wank over them

every time? i dont think youve got enough data for that

im not joking

neither am i you wank A LOT

ringooooo just buy it i swear to god if its not worth it or you regret it or whatever ill give you the money back

on top of the money you already owe me?

have you always been such a capitalist

youre not doing a very good job of convincing me

fine spikes cock now are you convinced???

maybe

naked pictures of spike whenever and wherever you want them all for the low low price of 10 quid a month convinced??

fine fine if itll shut you up

im starting to think thats code for 'i really wanna do this but im too embarrassed to admit it'

i hate you

now that DEFINITELY code for 'john youre right' anyway theres no time to be telling me how right i am all the time youve got dick pics to look at even i wont stand in the way of a good wank so dont bother replying to me until youve paid for that subscription young man

im older than you

DONT BOTHER REPLYING

Ringo let out a sigh and rested his head against the bedroom wall from where he was laying on the bed. He opened up the link again and his thumb hovered over the subscription button, why couldn't he just do it? The money wasn't an issue, it could've cost half as much or be double the price and he'd still be debating it all the same. Somehow it felt like an invasion of privacy, after all Spike hadn't told Ringo about it himself, but then again that didn't necessarily mean he didn't want Ringo to see it. After all it was like John said: everyone has to make a living somehow. Sometimes Ringo wished he could turn off that part of his brain that was so empathetic, so concerned about how everyone felt and what they were thinking. He knew that he wanted this, so why wasn't he allowing himself to have it? Ringo could see that he was being ridiculous, as he was with almost anything involving Spike, and after lying there for a while pondering and debating he decided to flip a coin. Heads would mean he got the subscription, tails that he didn't. He watched the coin spinning through the air after he flicked it upwards, then snatched it and slammed it down onto his forearm before slowly moving his hand away: it was tails. What a relief. Ringo chuckled to himself for being so foolish, settling down into his bed; it was still only around midday but he didn't have anywhere he needed to be.

So why didn't he feel relieved in the slightest?

This whole thing was getting tiring, the constant debate between what he believed he should do and what he wanted to do, and it seemed like it wasn't going to be ending anytime soon. Apparently he was in this for the long run, whatever that meant, but if he was going to turn down relatively attractive guys practically throwing themselves at him, he may as well go all the way. While he was putting in his credit card information, he stopped to think around three of four times, but once he'd finished and the images became accessible to him, his brain was barely able to conjure up a coherent sentence.

"Jesus..." Ringo breathed out as his eyes flicked across the plethora of pictures loading up on his screen.

There was a lot of them, and a lot of Spike was on display. Most of them were pictures taken at the club, either from a professional photographer in the audience or photos he'd taken himself in the mirrors backstage - Ringo could even see glimpses of Paul in the background of some of them. The ones that caught Ringo's eyes the most were those that seemed to be taken in his house, these also happened to be the ones in which Spike tended to be fully naked. It was very different experience to see him like this: a static image that he'd intentionally taken of himself and posted for so many people to see, an image that couldn't look back at Ringo and make him feel that strange mixture of excitement and shame. He began scrolling down the feed which only revealed more and more enticing photos. Ringo began to feel himself hardening, he suspected it had been happening for a while now but he'd been far too distracted to notice. He felt like a teenager discovering porn for the first time, it was difficult to remind himself that this wasn't anything new. Seeing Spike naked shouldn't have excited him so much, and yet it did.

One picture in particular drew Ringo's attention: Spike was stood in front of a bathroom mirror with a loose black tie lying against his bare chest, one hand was holding a phone and the other gripping his cock. He had dark eye make up on and his hair was messy. Ringo wasn't sure exactly what it was about this photo that was so enticing but he couldn't take his eyes off it. The prominence of his collarbones, the faint curls of his dark hair, how his slim fingers wrapped around himself. Slowly Ringo slid his own hand under the waistband of his boxers as he stared at the picture. At first he hesitated, his fingers stopped right above the base. It's not like this would've been the first time he'd touched himself while thinking about Spike, it would've been far from the last he imagined, but this was different. It was more concrete, more of an admission. Nothing felt quite as real when it's only being imagined, the haziness of lust fuzzing up the mind as it so often did, but now with a very real photo of Spike in front of him - which he'd paid to see - the feeling was far more tangible, far harder to ignore.

He'd come this far, he told himself as his hand sunk lower until his fingers were running along the length of his semi-hard cock, he may as well go all the way. To begin with Ringo stayed looking at this single picture as he slowly pumped himself, but as his lust began to grow he perused through more and more pictures: Spike kneeling naked in front of a mirror with a loose cigarette hanging from his lips, lying in the bath with bubbles only just about covering his nakedness, spread out on the bed with a gag in his mouth, handcuffs forcing his slim arms behind his back with his cock throbbing. None of this was anything Ringo hadn't seen before, like most people in this day and age he'd searched through the darker corners of the internet - sometimes willingly, sometimes John was to blame - but to see Spike in such a way was like an entirely new rush. Each picture drove Ringo further and further on, at times he almost dropped his phone with how sloppy his movements were becoming. Who took these photos? Ringo figured it was best not to think about it, the possibility that Spike had a boyfriend who took all these pictures of him would've been the quickest way to kill his erection.

Ringo began moaning and cursing wantonly as he got closer and closer to his orgasm, he had to stop flicking through the pictures because he could hardly concentrate on what his other hand was doing, so he settled on a final one to help him finish; it wasn't particularly strategic but he was definitely grateful that he selected the one that he did. In it Spike was looking directly into the camera, allowing Ringo to gaze longingly into the rich brown of his eyes and how his dark lashes curled beautifully around them. He was shirtless with nothing but a necklace on, the same necklace that Ringo had seen him wearing in the record store and Ringo couldn't help feeling a sense of satisfaction that he'd seen it with his own eyes, as though it meant something. Deep down he knew that it didn't but his inebriated mind was latching onto it. The nudity in the photo was hardly interesting Ringo by this point, although it would be wrong to say that he completely ignored the flatness of his stomach or the faint shadows of his ribs beneath his pale skin, it was the personal aspect which truly affected him.

This wasn't just lust. Lust Ringo could understand, he could compartmentalise it and give into it without much shame or a second thought. If this was just lust, he would've bought the subscription without a care and touched himself looking at the nakedness of Spike's body as though it meant nothing more than a way to get off. Yet here he was on the brink of orgasm looking into another man's eyes, eyes that felt like they were looking straight back at him as though they were sharing this moment together. It wasn't hard to imagine Spike's hand in place of his own, those deep eyes watching Ringo come undone piece by piece. Ringo's hip began to stutter, his leg twitching a little as he had to drop the phone down onto his lap as his head fell back against his pillow as his orgasm approached. It wasn't the image of Spike's naked body that filled Ringo's mind as he came, it wasn't his arse or his cock or even his chest, it was his face, his voice, it was him.

Ringo lay breathless on his bed for a while, the clarity that arrived as his orgasm subsided wasn't welcome in the slightest and he was reluctant to pick his phone back up to see Spike's eyes looking at him once again. There was no use in feeling ashamed about it, no point in trying to deny it any longer: his feelings for Spike were more than a mere passing fancy, that was clear. Exactly what he was meant to do about these feelings was far from clear but that wasn't something Ringo could figure out right now with cum on his stomach and the daylight seeping through his bedroom curtains.

When he'd picked up his phone he'd closed all the apps immediately, doing his best not to catch a glimpse of what he'd been so eagerly looking at before. Just as he was about to step into the shower to clean himself off, his phone buzzed; he almost couldn't hear it over the music he was blasting out. It alerted him for a moment as though it was going to be a message from Spike stating he knew exactly what Ringo had just done - it wouldn't have really surprised him had that been the case, Spike's face almost always looked like he knew something that nobody else did - but fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it was John.

sooo how did the wank go

who knows but on a totally unrelated note im about to get into the shower

well before you do that i have even more good news

can it not wait?

NO because you might cum just at the thought of it and then youd be wasting a good shower

well arent you considerate and unnecessarily graphic

thats me anyway im taking you to the club next tuesday whether you like it or not

im still waiting for the good news

well if youd let me FINISH next week theyre doing a special event and we just have to go youll never guess what it is

what is it?

guess

you just said ill never guess

youre no fun

WHAT IS IT

alright alright keep your hair on its a crossdressing event high heels make up probably a few wigs all that good stuff

im still waiting for the good news

OH COME ON youre telling me you dont want to see spike in heels and fishnets with some lovely lipstick on

Ringo gulped. It wasn't a difficult image to conjure up his mind, considering he'd been staring at photos of Spike for the past twenty minutes and it excited him to say the least. He did want to see that, very much indeed.

#the beatles #beatles #beatles fanfic #the beatles fanfic #beatles fanfiction #george harrison/ringo starr #ringo starr/george harrison #ringo starrxgeorge harrison #george harrisonxringo starr #starrison

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sunshinexlollipops · 4 years

Note

Have you given up on ACW?

Hey anon, to answer your question: no.

I meant to make a more detailed post explaining what has gone on BUT I have just had shit keep happening to me time after time.

To put it simply: I have not had the time or ability to write ACW this month.

Have I given up on it? Forgotten it? Been pushing it off? Ignoring it?

No. I’ve been terribly busy and stressed in the process of trying to replace my car. Which has single-handedly been one of the worst experiences I’ve ever gone through.

Sounds dramatic right? No.

I have been:

Treated horribly bc I’m trying to buy a lower-priced used car outright instead of financing on any and I’ve had dealers tell me “I don’t care about those” and hang up on me

I had to pull money out of my college fund to even get a majority of my car budget and that was like pulling teeth

I was trying to save every penny I could of money I earned afterward so I was trying to spend NOTHING while literally picking pennies off the ground

I spent an entire day just rolling my own change to help my budget

I have gone to car lots trying to find a car I discovered online that is listed to be there only to find out it’s sold or even in another state

^ that happened to me 3 times

Some lots left listings on hella good car deals to lure people in

I found out I couldn’t finance a car bc I have no credit history but lord did they try for me to do so

And the biggest issue is that since I am a woman, I faced SO MUCH SHIT from dealers thinking I was an idiot or waisting their time.

One dealer literally lost his shit after I declined a sale because:

He was trying to finance me on a car worth 10k. From taxes and other fees and interest, and extra 6k was added to the car’s price. My car payment was gonna be almost $400/month and with having to get the insurance required for a car on lean I wouldn’t be able to spend any of my money on anything but the car for a year and he thought this was okay.

He was so sneaky he tried to get me to “drive the car home” to show my mom once she got off work. “All you gotta do is buy insurance and she can see it! And I’ll get you dealer tags!” THAT IS SELLING ME THE CAR. NO.

Once the deal fell through bc I refused to do anything but tell him we were done, he immediately changed with how he was acting and says “this is bullshit,” and proceeded to go fucking nuclear.

Said my parents didn’t love me bc they were going to buy a used car for me with no warranty and high mileage and I was gonna get screwed over even more than I already was without having a car.

He called my parents idiots for not co-signing and “I prayed to god for this deal and they won’t let you have it” — and overall he mostly zeroed in my mom, who bought two cars from them, saying she was a “fool” and “I couldn’t even talk to her for doing this to you.”

Said my parents didn’t love me and “you can’t do this to your daughters. Sons you can put in shitty used cars with high mileage, but your daughter? To have it break down on the side of the road? Haven’t they read the news? Don’t they know what happens to women?”

Complained that we were going to make him look like an idiot bc he reworked this car deal for me 4-5 times and now he’s gonna have to explain to his boss I said no and get him “in trouble” and that he might lose his job bc I’m not buying this car.

Needless to say I’ve been stressed as fuck this month.

And, a few days ago, I bought a car.

But it isn’t working out.

There was a crack in the windshield the dealer said they would replace. And this isn’t a sketchy side-of-the-road dealer, this is a franchised Ford dealership.

Well, the day after I bought my car (a green 2000 Honda CRV that needs some cosmetic love), I was told it would be fixed and they would call me to pick it up.

They didn’t do so. Either with calling me or fixing the windshield.

I called them 3 times, right after I got off from work at about 4, and then, about an hour before they were set to close.

I got a call back after leaving messages asking how my car was and if it was ready for pick up to come 10min before the dealer shut its doors for the night to get it.

So I show up and it’s raining and at night, so I don’t immediately see the crack is still there until I get home.

Thankfully I live right down the road, so I still had enough time to call them back and say: “wtf? This was supposed to be fixed? Y’all said it would be?”

The gentleman on the phone tells me: “Bring the car in tomorrow morning. We will get you a loan vehicle while we fix it and you should get it back same day. What time would you be coming in?”

I tell him about 9am or a little past, and he says he will make a note of it.

Come morning, I make sure to take pics of the windshield.

I take it, find out the guy to fix it isn’t even in till Monday, and since it’s a 7-8in crack it’s not safe to drive around with (the salesman even told me for it to be on the lot it had to be fixed).

So now o have a loaner car after getting to complain to the sales manager and I broke down crying bc I havent had my car for even 48hrs and they’re already having to take it back and keep it for several days longer.

The lady who does car loaning for people like me felt so bad she prayed for me before I left and texted me personally about my car bc i discovered they cleaned the brake pedal and it was worn down to expose metal— not a common thing you see on a car with only 97k miles.

Both she and I did research on the vehicle to make sure the odometer wasn’t rolled back (something highly illegal and fraudulent).

So I’m out of a car at least until Monday, but it just depends on how this all goes down.

Until then I have a 2019 Ford Edge and it’s nicer than anything I’ve ever been in but still.

So yeah. I haven’t brushed off ACW.

I literally have just been having the worst luck and time and this has taken priority over writing.

Not that I’m shitting on you anon, but this is what’s happening and this is why there won’t be an update this month.

I’m sorry, but it’s just how this has played out for me and everything else.

All i can say is that I hope this works out soon and for the better. 🤷‍♀️

#luffy posts #luffy asks #car shopping is a stage of grief #lol nah its all 5 #also sorry this got posted prematurely

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fordarkisthesuede · 5 years

Text

The Tolls Of Justice - Chapter 3

*throws confetti* IT’S DOOOONNNNEEEEEE! (I barely beat my deadline, huzzah!!!)

Sorry for the long, long wait. I apparently needed to recharge my internal batteries... But here we go!

{Previous} {Next}

Important Spoiler Tags: drug mention, prostitution & stripping mentions, gun mention, violent thoughts, therapy sessions

Read on AO3 or continue below:

[Chapter 3: Ink Trails]

John was finding it difficult to concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing.

He couldn’t help it. He’d made the mistake of looking at recent Gotham news, hoping for something new in the murder case every newspaper and station seemed to be going on about, but he’d scrolled too far down his news feed.

You Won’t Believe What This Arkham Orderly’s Seen - Bruce Wayne and ‘Joker’ not ‘just friends’!

Dr. Leland had warned him that people would speculate about his relationships with others. Especially Bruce, given Bruce’s social standings and John’s lack thereof. Bruce himself had said his team of lawyers were well-equipped to stop this sort of gossip from spreading; he’d proved it the last time one of the tabloids had printed such a thing, getting it redacted with an apology from the paper itself.

But that was before they actually had a relationship.

Bruce was careful. He’d never said anything or done anything romantic while John was locked away, with the exception of his first post-Scarecrow visit, when the power and cameras were turned off for those few minutes. And last Saturday, of course, but did it really count when they were so far from Arkham’s nosey orderlies and any prying eyes? The article clearly stressed Arkham orderly.

But John had been good. He’d kept the real them a secret, even from his Arkham doctors. Even from his current doctors. Sure, he’d occasionally give a slightly suggestive comment when he and Bruce had the rare chance to be completely alone, but no one could have possibly overheard them. As much as he wanted to shout it from the rooftops, John understood that any question about potential tampering with his recovery process could land him right back into another involuntary stay at Arkham.

And he’d die sooner than face that.

Unable to stop himself, he ignored the pair of shorts still waiting for a proper hem and skimmed through the thing, keeping in mind that Bruce would no doubt bring the hammer down on the Gotham Moonrise regardless of the details.

Anonymous Arkham orderly claims to have inside knowledge regarding the relationship between John Doe, alias ‘Joker’, and Bruce Wayne, blah blah blah... “Reports to have seen Bruce pay off themselves and other orderlies in exchange for uninterrupted time in John’s cell on multiple occasions”?

“Hah, I wish,” John muttered to himself, closing the article as his anxiety starting to ebb away. A lot of money must have exchanged hands to be bold enough to make that claim on paper. Bruce’s team of three-piece suits were probably already on their way to the Gotham Moonrise’s editorial department with a nice large lawsuit.

He skimmed through further. There was an old close-circuit-camera picture in the middle, taken in the nicer of Arkham’s two visitor rooms - John and Bruce were sitting together at the table, watching something on Bruce’s phone. Bruce had been showing him one of the old Gray Ghost serials up on UBox upon learning that John had only ever seen bits and pieces of the nearly thirty-year-old cartoon reboot from bloggr posts. John didn’t see how that qualified as them ‘getting cozy’, as the caption put it, considering they had to stay a minimum of a foot apart at all times inside there.

He breathed out slowly, like he was supposed to, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to fidget. He pulled up his favorite picture of Bruce. He was walking down the steps of the courthouse after his first hearing regarding last year’s mess, looking determined and impossibly handsome in what John knew to be his second-favorite suit, the black with dark gray pinstripes. There was nothing about the angle or lighting that was wrong: it was perfect, like him. “It’s nothing, John,” he told himself in his best imitation of Bruce’s smooth, deep tone, “They won’t throw you back in on idle gossip.”

“You’re right,” he answered in a whisper. He kissed the tip of his index finger and tapped it over Bruce’s face. “I’m worrying over nothing,” he said firmly. The more he said it, the more he believed it.

The feed above that article had some of the usual fair regarding celebrity socialites cheating on their significant others and some minor political scandal, but then - boom, third article down: Missing man’s body found near East Docks.

John wasn’t sure how to feel. He was excited there was something new, but he couldn’t help but think he shouldn’t be happy over a stranger’s death. The thought might as well have Dr. Leland’s voice attached, telling him to think of how it would feel to lose someone he cared about, and apply that. The stranger might have been a criminal, but he could’ve been someone else’s Bruce Wayne.

But John didn’t cause this one. It was a force beyond his control. He didn’t have to feel bad about it. Hell, it might have been justified. Maybe Muddy Nye had done far worse things than distribute toxic garbage to the masses through organized crime.

The scar on his palm peeked out over the edge of his phone.

...or maybe Muddy was someone’s John Doe.

John opened the article, finding a video on top. That would be much faster than reading.

He recognized the newscaster - Faith Ackart, who had covered his recent court proceedings with barely a smidge more kindness than Jonathan Crane’s. A real go-getter in the journalistic field with apparently very little fashion sense; her top was so bright it made the blush on her cheeks look severe.

“You think your morning’s bad, be thankful you aren’t Lou Monger - a task that should’ve taken two minutes turned into nearly two hours after Lou went to take out the trash and found a body in his business’ dumpster.”

The camera cut, showing the police tape draped across an alley and a dumpster underneath a fire escape in the background, where the aforementioned man stood in front of it with the microphone almost shoved in his face.

That was the exact alleyway he was yesterday morning. The same dumpster with the dent on top, the same fire escape, the same graffitti in the background… He could practically smell the rotting fish carcasses.

“I just open the lid, ready to throw on more crap, and this guy’s just layin’ there, dead as a doornail,” Lou explained, looking angrily flummoxed, “I got a business to run and now I gotta leave my customer’s hangin’ for two hours during prime-time! I open the lid, guy’s got a new hole in his head - what else do you gotta know?”

The camera cut back to Faith, standing across the street from the police line. The body had already been removed.

“What Lou didn’t know was that the body was that of Muddy Nye, who police believe to be connected to the van explosion by the East Docks on Tuesday morning - where an anonymous witness says they spotted Batman nearby only minutes before. G.C.P.D. decline to comment on whether or not the group killed in the explosion are connected to those found aboard the Chandis, and on the supposed Batman sighting.”

John drummed his fingers against the table surface. A wannabe-mobster shot in the head, a la execution style…

And suddenly, like a trigger pulled in his head, he realized that both he and Tiffany had used the fire escape. She might have used the dumpster. There had been no rain the night before to wash any of their trace evidence away, and the cops were likely going to comb over the alley for anything useful.

That was bad. Real bad. Especially if Tiffany had caused that dent in the top of the lid. Especially-especially since he’d been walking around when he technically shouldn’t have been.

Tiff please tell me you didn’t use the dumpster as leverage yesterday!! He texted, unable to stop his leg from bouncing anxiously.

For what?

The fire escape??? Muddy’s dead

He’s LITERALLY sleeping with the fishes in that dumpster

I touched the fire escape and our prints are gonna be all over the ladder!!!!!

Hang on

How could John hang onto anything? They would have known he left work, and they’d question his boss, who would no doubt lie and say he snuck out to cover his own ass, they’d question him, and they’d suspect John heavily for no other reason than his past history and they’d throw him back in.

He could feel his heart racing. He didn’t want to go back to Arkham. How many exclamation points after that did he have to use to drive that point home?

Okay so 1 I didn’t use the dumpster, I jumped like a normal person, and 2 chill out. Traffic cam got conveniently jammed around 2am so they definitely planned to dump it. They’ll just check the dumpster

John breathed deep, trying to relax. She had a point. Why check the fire escape if the killer dumped the body like a pro?

3 sleeping with the fishes?? That is a terrible pun wtf

But it’s not wrong!! He texted, This has classic mob hit all over it.

“Actually…” It did, didn’t it? He could practically see the plan in his head: kidnap to get information, shoot in the head to stop any squealing, drop off at a planned dumping ground a good distance away…with fish, no less. They didn’t go to the harbor where the message would be crystal-clear, despite the large stretch of it not occupied by cops... Yet with a million dumpsters in the city to choose from, and they went to a dumpster with fish?

It was as if…

“It is a joke,” he muttered to himself, believing it more firmly as the words left his growing grin. It was a terrible, tongue-in-cheek sort of gag.

The whole thing was something he couldn’t help but laugh at, escalating from titters to a low cackle.

He tried to stifle it with his hand; the manager was rather keen on a quiet workplace, and he knew ‘random laughing’ had a more negative connotation when he was the one doing it.

The back-room door swung open on queue, and Mr. Prinya stuck his head in. “John, keep it down,” he whispered in a rush, “I’ve got a customer.”

“S-sorry,” John managed, swirling in his chair as he slyly slid his phone underneath the pile of orders, “I just remembered a funny meme.”

The older man frowned like a stern parent. “You’re not on your phone at work, are you?”

“Me? Never. You know, idle hands and all that,” he lied, holding up both hands and wiggling his fingers to show he was empty-handed. “If they’re here for the shorts, tell them to wait - thread got stuck again.”

Mr. Prinya eyed him, his suspicion waning into something like concern. “You need it unstuck?”

“Nah, I’ll get it.”

“Okay...just keep it down.”

“Yes, sir,” John affirmed with a little salute.

The second the manager was gone, John put his phone on silent and slid it back into his pocket. He didn’t really like straight-up lying to people he didn’t dislike, but he tried to think of it like lying to the Arkham staff - if it meant he and his secrets were safe, then it was acceptable.

The door didn’t quite close - it had a habit of not sticking without being given a little slam. He could hear the annoyingly digital door chime and the last customer’s cheery goodbye through the crack in the door. And then another not a moment later, as tinny and loud as ever.

“Ah, good morn-” There was a brief pause. “Good morning, Mr. Nito,” Mr. Prinya said, his accent becoming a little thicker on the ‘i’s and ‘o’s.

“My vest ready?” A somewhat gruff voice replied.

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but John was more of a hyena person anyway. He had no problem taking a peek to satisfy the itch to know.

Mr. Prinya’s small shoulders were clearly tense. The customer looked the rough type, with shaved eyebrows, barbell brow-piercings, and a nose ring. He seemed to have a tan, but the facial features and complete lack of any other underlying accent indicated that he was probably only a little less white than John.

“Yes…” Mr. Prinya sorted through the rack. He was at least a head shorter than ‘Mr. Nito’; what would that make him, five-eleven? Or six? “Here it is.”

“I hope you know I ain’t leavin’ ‘til I know it’s safe.”

There was little doubt it wasn’t drugs; probably coke or heroin, given how much was carefully distributed in the fabric. Or it could’ve been something new hitting the streets.

John thought back to Vicki Vale and her little drug-ring; he’d gotten used to passing information along to Bruce, hadn’t he? His first instinct was to tell him. The handsome billionaire might not be directly involved this time, but it was certainly something he’d be interested in...and probably thank him for.

John could barely see the lumps in the cloth as Mr. Prinya brought to the counter. It looked like an old police-grade bullet proof vest - it wasn’t as big as the SWAT ones he’d seen on TV, or the one he’d worn last year.

He had a good angle. Bruce’s tech had that fancy facial-recognition software on it. It’d be easy to find him through that - or just by combing over his tattoos. One could be one for a recognizable gang.

Flash off, zoom in, and...snap!

The vest was laid carefully on the table. “Of course it’s safe,” Mr. Prinya assured.

Mr. Nito - if that was his real name - snorted. “For all I know you could’ve done shoddy seams on purpose.”

“Of course-” Mr. Prinya stopped himself short.

The tattooed man glared at him. “Of course what? You got somethin’ to say?”

The rudeness of him was one thing, but the way the guy touched his belt, like he was going for a gun, really rubbed John the wrong way. He could see the handle of a blocky pistol under the guy’s unseasonable zippered jacket. He didn’t have to pull it out - open-faced threats of death like that just made John think of the bridge incident, and that memory was one that still made his blood boil.

“No,” Mr. Prinya responded with a slight hitch. “Of course you may look.”

Tamper you instincts, they would say. He tucked his phone away and clutched his hands. Clench, release, clench...

Calm down. (Hard to do that when he knew all too well what it felt like to be on either sides of a gun barrel. There was too much power behind them.)

Think of your future, Dr. Leland had advised months and months ago.

...Bruce...wouldn’t want him to go out there. If the guy talked, people might know where he worked. His private life was meant to be private until he was officially released.

But Bruce would surely have taken a bullet for him. And he wouldn’t have let that...that scumbag just walk around acting like he could just do whatever the hell he wanted.

He mentally crossed ‘hiding’ off his list of options. He certainly wouldn’t go in there and just punch the guy - there’d be too much collateral damage.

John would play it cool. Confident. Things were different - he was different. He could do that. Be that.

(He’d save the gory imagery of the guy clutching the bleeding stumps of his fingers for a mental replay later.)

So he clutched the door-handle and made a show of entering, swinging the door wide - not too wide - with a random piece of clothing tucked under his arm. “Hey, boss-man-” He cut himself off as appropriate, pretending to just see the ‘customer’ behind the counter. The man’s eyes flashed to him, hard at first, and then widening with recognition. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know we had company!” He flashed a grin Mr. Nito’s way.

He looked less horrified than John would have wanted. Not the ‘oh my God, it’s that crazy guy from the news last year’ that John expected. More like John was someone he knew, and he just didn’t expect to see him there. Or really, more of a ‘you look weird, and I’m suddenly not sure of what dimension I’m in’ sort of stare.

Mr. Prinya, on the other hand, looked almost disbelievingly surprised to see him. “D-did you need something, John?” He asked, his accent just as thick as before.

“That darn machine is still stuck,” he lied, “My butterfingers can’t untangle the threads as easily as you.” He wiggled his free set of fingers to show how noodley they were. It wasn’t completely untrue, which sold the bit better - he usually got so frustrated when the knots wouldn’t untie that he’d end up cutting them out nine times out of ten.

Mr. Nito’ had tugged his jacket back over his pistol. He was still staring at John. Thinking about how much of a risk it was to deal with the Arkham loon. He’d fought Batman and lived. He could be armed. Even if he wasn’t, he was fast, and who knew if he cared about collateral damage?

John stared right back, feigning curiosity. “Is there something on my face?” He asked as innocently as possible while imagining the guy’s hands being slammed on the counter and stuck there with the whole tomato of pins.

He wouldn’t be able to reach for his gun if his hands were pinned. The thought was so funny it almost made him laugh; he could feel his grin widen.

Mr. Nito looked away and gathered the vest under his arm as quickly as possible, looking like he was trying to hold a toddler on his hip. “If this falls apart on me, it’ll be your fault,” he emphasized at Mr. Prinya, glaring with less machismo than before, “Hope you’ll remember that,” he huffed.

He turned and left, leaving John to titter under his breath at how the tough-guy act had dissolved into an immature little bark. The obnoxious doorbell went off and the man disappeared into the city with a disgruntled scowl.

Mr. Prinya watched him go, only relaxing when the man was out of sight. He muttered something incomprehensible in a relieved breath.

“Yeesh, what a weirdo... Whelp, I’ll be in back if you need me!” John spun on his heel, two steps into his return to his lonely work when Mr. Prinya spoke.

“John,” Mr. Prinya said in a similar sort of tone to the one Bruce used when he wanted John to stop and think for a moment, “You shouldn’t…” He paused, thinking further, seeming to soften with every passing moment. John waited for him to finish. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” John said honestly. It wasn’t as if he’d actually done anything outside of show his infamous face. He decided to gamble and ask the big question rather than let the chance slip away. “Who was that guy, anyway?”

Mr. Prinya eyed him. He had that sort of gentle-letdown look Dr. Leland used to get when she would tell him ‘no’. “Don’t get mixed up in this. You have your own life to worry about.”

It was the second time that was said to him in two days...

Maybe fate was trying to drill that into his head.

...or maybe it was just coincidence.

“I swear you guys say that as if you’re not part of my life,” he said with a short chortle, making sure to close the door behind him.

The back room felt much cooler than before, and for a moment he felt like he was back in Bruce’s cave, sitting at that ridiculously oversized supercomputer to dig up dirt wherever he thought a useful little worm of information might be. Only this room was smaller and crowded with sewing supplies instead of fancy tech and stalactites, and there were no bats or handsome best friend around for company.

Still, he couldn’t shake the sense of intrigue that came with the idea. He pulled up the picture he’d taken of ‘Mr. Nito’.

He zoomed in on the tattoos. A dragon tail peeked out of the jacket’s sleeve - it was such a standard thing to get that he figured there wasn’t much to go on with that one.

A large embossed star sat between his neck and shoulder. He’d seen celebrity chefs with the same sort of tat’. Nothing special.

Knuckle tattoos - because of course he’d have those - spelled out ‘PAIN’ on his left hand. He didn’t doubt there was a matching one of some kind on his right. Talk about basic.

There was something peeking out above the v-neck: the top of a face that looked like it was split in half, with the expressions like the sock and buskin masks in theatre, cast in black and red. Or at least that’s what John assumed they were, given the eyebrow and eye shapes...

That one was definitely more unique. Worth looking into.

He heard the door chime again, but Mr. Prinya didn’t sound so nervous when he greeted them this time. There was no need to go back out or throw the sewing machine at someone. (At least...not yet.)

John had to get back to work. He’d have to sort through a lot of social media garbage to find something like it, but he had a lot of free time on his hands...

*~*~*~*~*

John had been through far too many FriendBook pages. And Chirp pages. And bloggr posts. And he’d posted and searched through the more disturbing internet forums. All in moments snatched where he could at work and travel and in the very few spots in St. Dympha he could get away with using a contraband phone in to look up gang symbols in the tri-state area and beyond.

And nothing. Not a single thing depicting either the symbol the bodies made on the Chandis or the tattoo on ‘Mr. Nito’.

He was tempted to just ask Bruce (or even Tiffany) and shove the picture he’d taken of ‘Mr. Nito’ in their fancy Batcomputer to analyze, but...they were both definitely-probably busy. After all, they were working on the mysterious-gang-war case, and Bruce was probably dealing with the stupid tabloid article from that morning on top of that, and those were more important than his little investigation.

(Besides, he really liked that expression Bruce got when John had figured something out; surprise and pride and intrigue all rolled into one. He’d gladly comb over a hundred more pages of junk to see that face when he inevitably surprised him with.)

And now he was stuck in group. Unable to do anything but sit and mull over what he was missing, and think about Bruce’s mess of a mystery. He’d looked as far back as the nineteen-twenties for criminally-linked logos that looked even remotely like what either of them should be, but found none. It had to be new, and small enough to fly under the radar…

John had a mental catalog of all the gangs that were and ever had been in the city. Black Mask was much more recent, seizing the opportunistic hole that Falcone had left in his wake and picking up business fronts and those ridiculous protection rackets, and adding in the standard drug trade. He was sure he was an out-of-towner who noticed the lack of a big organized crime unit… Or at least someone who operated outside of the city to get power before moving in on the big fish.

He’d crossed off a lot of the old mafias already, mostly due to them being dead and gone. Falcone’s leftovers weren’t smart enough or loyal enough to organize themselves into some sort of revenge plot; they were the type to follow the new guy. Maroni’s crew tended to be more hot-headed and not take orders from new people, but there were only so many left, and they had their own little territories carved out on the map that Black Mask hadn’t bothered trying to take.

The small-time gangs (seventeen of them at the last count) scattered around the place didn’t really have enough to pull of a stunt like that of the Chandis. They were more the types to make deals with the big time crooks and go down in a blaze of glory if something went wrong.

So unless it was someone new… But why? That was the real question. It felt too personal to be random. Maybe whoever was running Black Mask had crossed paths with someone who had the patience to wait for revenge. Someone deadly. Trained, if the knife-throwing was anything to go by. Maybe it wasn’t a gang, but one person. A serial killer bent on revenge. Maybe B.M. killed someone they cared about, or took something from them.

Maybe B.M. had lit a circus on fire or something. He added it to his little list of things to look up later.

He hated admitting it, but Tiffany had been right in her little insinuation - there was little he could do about this particular thing while he was on the inside...

“John? How about you?”

Of course Dr. Ludgate would call him out while was sitting there thinking. She had a knack for picking on the quiet ones. She looked it, too, with her severely-sharp haircut and the general attitude that she commanded the room. He wondered if she used to be a teacher or something. (She certainly had the style of those fussy teachers he’d seen on T.V. over the years. Awful floral patterns were her apparently her favorite thing in the world.)

Of course they’d call him out when he was sitting there thinking. He hadn’t been paying attention for quite a while.

Complete honestly wasn’t even an option here. He’d hate to just say he was just daydreaming or not listening…

“Ah, well, I was just thinking, doc’...”

The doctor was giving him the ‘ah, yes, go on’ look he was used to. It seemed a lot of the group was paying attention to him… Well, who was he to disappoint an audience?

“I still have those moments where things feel like some kind of alternate reality. Like I’m in one of those weird ‘what-if’ comics and I’ve got only so many pages left until I find myself still in…” That cozy little slice of hell, he wanted to say. But that was ‘inappropriate’ and ‘disturbing’. Not exactly the picture he wanted to paint for himself in front of a healthcare professional. “Well, Arkham.”

Mickey, sitting across from him in their little circle, was watching him like he was actually paying attention. He had a tendency to stare at his lap a lot in group. Or into space.

“But...the past couple of weeks have helped prove that I’m not there anymore.” ...kinda. He thought carefully. “Like it’s not just the scenery that’s different, you know?”

Some thoughtful looks at that. Nice.

He wasn’t going to add on anything too sugary, like his hope for others feeling the same. No, no, that wasn’t his style. He leaned back in his chair, unable to hold back the little grin. “Though this place could take some pointers from it. Exposed brick is much more chic than all this eggshell.”

A couple of titters and amused little smirks in the group. Much better.

Dr. Ludgate just nodded her head. “It’s good to know you’re feeling more comfortable, John. I think everyone here has days where they don’t feel like they’re really at a better point in their lives.”

John leaned back a little further in his chair. She didn’t seem to completely understand, but that was okay. She got the end message, at least, and that was what mattered. He didn’t really care if anyone else got it or not.

When no one else spoke up after a few beats - clearly no one wanted to delve further into that conversation link - Dr. Ludgate pretended to look at her watch. “I think that’s about all we have time for today.” She made sure to look at the group as a whole. “You’ve all made wonderful progress.”

A phrase he’d heard a thousand times, and it still hadn’t lost it’s funny side. He at least managed to swallow the urge to giggle at it.

John strolled out of the room, going straight back to thinking. There wasn’t much he could do with Bruce’s stuff. Back to thinking about the mysterious Mr. Nito as he made his way back to his room. The perfect thinking place.

He hadn’t seen anything resembling the weird theatre masks in his tattoo search, either. It was apparently rather unique. Maybe he had to do some more forum digging for that one…?

“Hey, John,” Devi Hanson waved to him from a little further down the hall clad in pink cheetah-print pants, and he saw a flash of intensely-bright neon green in her hand.

Nail polish. It was ridiculously bright, and he was seized with the urge to have it. “Where did you get that color?” He asked enthusiastically, already making a bee-line for her.

“Outside, where else?” She joked. “What, you wanna use it?”

He could steal it from her, but she was one of the few people who actively enjoyed his company. “How many ways can I say yes? Absolutely, sure, oui, si, ja...”

She gave a light laugh. “Alright, but you have to do my right hand for me.”

“Deal!”

He followed her into the recreation room. It was ten times cozier than Arkham’s; only one orderly to oversee things, much comfier sofas, a cable package with actually decent things on half the time, several board games that weren’t just checkers or some variant of it, and people that weren’t prone to sudden bouts of violence. (Well, mostly. He’d seen a very heated game of Dungeons, Dragons, and Dice.)

They sat at one of the corner tables, away from the crowd watching that boring ‘“nerdy” comedy John didn’t understand the appeal of.

“So, how’s the sewing gig goin’?” Devi asked casually as she started to paint her left hand with practiced strokes.

“About as well as it can go,” he answered. He wasn’t going to mention anything about what transpired earlier. “How’s the laundry shift?”

“Hot and borin’,” she answered back. “They say a job’s a job, but it actually makes stripping seem good again. At least there was fun music and a lot more money in it.”

“Huh, I didn’t know you did that.”

“Eh, it was a lifetime ago. It’s how I got into my nasty little habit.” Devi was rather quick at painting, apparently, already going on her third nail. “I’d rather go back to bein’ a stylist again, actually. I could style and dye hair like nobody's business.” She shot a look at his hair. “Wouldn’t need to do yours, though. You’re color sure stays...”

“It’s au natural.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Really? Man, you’re lucky! I’d kill for a color like that.”

“Maybe I did,” he said slyly, half joking to himself. For all he knew it was true. “We’ll never know!”

She gave him a funny look. Sort of curious and amused. “You don’t remember anything before the last decade, right?”

“Correct-a-mundo.”

“So why do you look like you’re always thinkin’ really hard about somethin’ lately?” Devi started blowing on her nails to dry them.

It was always tempting to tell people to mind their own business, but Devi had half her arms covered in very well-done tattoos. He could use some insight... “‘Cause I’m thinking hard about things.” John started to paint his own left hand, deciding on odd fingers instead of all of them. “In today’s case, though… It’s tats.”

“So nothin’ to do with the studmuffin that keeps visitin’ you?” Devi was shaking her hand and blowing on it alternatively.

Either she was blowing smoke, or...she saw the tabloid article. “That? It’s...just a rumor,” he shrugged off, finding it difficult to say. He’d mostly just avoided the topic altogether, or else rolled his eyes when people brought it up. He hadn’t had one of those stupid tabloid opinion pieces since last year, when it was very easy to say it wasn’t true because it wasn’t.

“Didn’t say anythin’ about rumors.” She admired her nails, looking for imperfections.

John narrowed his eyes. Did she think he was stupid? “You didn’t have to. You probably saw that stupid article on the news rack while you were out, and that’s why you lured me here. To ask about it.”

“Not even close!” Devi answered with a little frown, “I actually like your company; you’re funny and you’re the only one in this joint who appreciates my taste in color,” she said, gesturing to her whole yellow-and-pink outfit, “And I asked because half the time I see you, the guy’s almost attached to your hip. What’s this about an article?”

Oh. Whoops. “Sorry,” John muttered, feeling bad at jumping to conclusions, “it’s this whole stupid tabloid thing… It’s bad enough they gossip about Bruce, but to just...speculate about our relationship like that! It’s enough to...” He breathed in through his nostrils. “It really pisses me off.” It was too close to home, too paranoia-inducing...too much that put Bruce on edge, and thus John on edge.

Devi gave a sort of half-nod, half-shrug. “That’s what they do. Don’t give ‘em the satisfaction.” He knew she was right, but it didn’t help that she didn’t know everything about the situation. She couldn’t possibly know how messy it made him feel. “Anyway, why were you thinkin’ ‘bout tattoos? Jealous of mine?” She leaned her right arm on the table to show off the prowling leopard and scatter of flowers trailing down from her shoulder. She had someone’s name tattooed under a cross on her opposing forearm, and a necklace of constellations on her collarbone.

Flattery was the best way to go the majority of the time. “Yours are pretty,” he offered, watching her sit up a little proudly, “but I’m just puzzling over one I’ve seen,” he said cryptically, finished on his thumbnail. “I’ve never seen one like it before.”

“You got a picture?” She asked, putting her left hand in front of him so he’d get the hint.

John eyed the guard in the corner. He waited until he’d turned just enough away to slide his phone out of his pocket and pull up the gallery, zooming in on Mr. Nito’s tattoo. “If anyone asks, it’s yours,” he muttered, nodding to the phone as he started painting her other hand.

“Not allowed one yet, huh?” Devi pulled it across the able and looked. “Hm… That’s new to me.” She zoomed out, much to John’s discomfort. “Him, on the other hand, I’ve seen.”

“You have?” John could not keep the excitement out of his voice. “When? Where?”

“Here,” she shrugged. “Hang on a sec - hey, Mick’,” she called out, leaning to get a view of the only ‘Mick’ it could be in the facility, “Can you come here for a sec’?”

John did not want to involve him. They weren’t on...well, any real terms. It was hard to tell if Mickey liked him...or anything at all, in fact. Mickey was too abrasive to know if he would be loyal to anything or anyone.

Mickey, unfortunately, did in fact come when called, though. Maybe he had a soft spot for Devi, or women in general. “Yeah?”

“You remember this guy? I remember seein’ him, but I don’t remember his name.”

Mickey breathed out, crossing his arms over his plain t-shirt and looking...not very different from his usual gruff expression. His thick dark brows were furrowed together. “I just knew him as Ian.”

“Yeah, that was it… He didn’t stay too long, did he?”

Mickey snorted, smirking a little. “A week.”

John resumed painting, not realizing he’d stopped. “Who was he?”

“A patient,” Mickey replied. He was staring holes down at John. “We shared the same doctor. Why?”

John was getting annoyed, and he was getting tired of being polite. “That’s my business.”

Mickey decided to just sit next to Devi, still staring at him. “You trying to stop a racket?”

John ignored that and started on Devi’s pinkie finger.

“The hotel’s got one, too,” he continued quietly. That caught John’s interest.

Devi gave a slight chortle. “Every bus’ in the docks has one. Stupid to try and get us to be so law-abiding when they put us down there.”

Yes, now John was doubly-interested.

“What kind is it?” John asked Mickey, looking up from his handiwork.

“Drugs and prostitution,” he answered as Devi made a disgusted face, “Yours?”

John decided to be honest as he started on his own right hand. He rather liked the look of his left. “Pretty sure my boss is a drug mule. I don’t think it’s by choice.”

Devi winced harder. “Ugh. I got lucky, mine’s just a secret loan racket in the basement.”

Mickey was watching him. “Are you trying to stop them?”

It was...almost hopeful. Like he actually wanted that. A tough guy like Mickey, who could have easily been in a gang himself, wanted the crime in his life stopped. How...oddly refreshing.

“I don’t like being potentially thrown under the bus for other people’s decisions,” John chose to say, discarding the joke that he still had Batman’s number on speed-dial. “It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

Mickey nodded sagely. “You don’t want to go back,” he stated. “I get it.”

“Until you’ve been in Arkham, Mickey, you really don’t.” He hoped it didn’t sound as rude as he thought. “You guys know the name of your employer’s racket group?”

“Some guy named Boata,” Devi answered, blowing on her newly painted fingers.

Mickey looked up at the ceiling very briefly. “Last I heard, it was something like ‘Volto’.”

Interesting. A chain of small gangs working in such a small area? That only meant one thing: they were sections of a bigger gang. Especially with such European-sounding names...

The leftovers, perhaps. Or maybe they wanted just to sound like the leftovers. Cast the suspicion of the Bat off.

One thing was for sure. He had to find Ian’s full name. A last known address wouldn’t hurt, either.

And that meant he’d have to break into an office.

Notes: I’m very happy with the first section, but less satisfied with how the second half turned out, and it bent me out of shape for a week to think of how it would end... But I reminded myself that I’m setting up for what’s coming in what should be Chapter 5, and...oh boy, I know that is gonna knock some socks off. (Including mine, haha!) So it’s worth the struggle, but I hope I kept everyone’s attention. :)

So, fun facts! I had to look up what the theatre masks were called, and “sock and buskin” are literally names for the masks, taken from the “sock of comedy and boot of tragedy” characters could wear on stage. (I’ve...never heard of such a thing before now, but I like it.) And my reference to “a whole tomato of pins” is an allusion to the common tomato-shaped pin-cushion. I’ve grown up with one in the house and rarely see any in sewing stores that aren’t shaped like that, so I thought it was a sort of funny thing to add.

It’s really too bad I can’t just make a whole game for this, because I think John would have some interesting mental-mapping in animation. You’d get to see him connect the strings together like Batman does on his tech, and imagine some things like Bats’ 3D-projecting. Plus he talks to himself, both aloud (like Bruce) and in his head, so the player would actually hear that sometimes, and some of his little vocal memories from other people. (If my alternate-universe self is doing this...man, I hope she’s having fun with it.)

And of course, thank you for all the love so far!! Every time I get a note I go like this: (♡´౪`♡) *✧ ✰ ｡* I’ll see you in two weeks, when we rejoin Bruce!

#ttoj #bttts s4 #telltale batjokes #the boy!!! is here!!!#John Doe #Tiffany Fox #look at all these OC's #Fordarkisthesuede writes #writing John making new friends is hard hahahaha #drug mention #canon-typical violence #prositution mention #stripping mention #gun mention #please tell me if i missed any tags #the tolls of justice

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