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softspiderling · 2 years

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how do you love somebody else | j.h.s.

summary: “She seems good,” Rooster said, sliding up next to Jake. He took a sip from his beer, tilting his head. “I’d expected her to punch you in the throat.” “Me too.” or the one where you and Jake are exes.

pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

warnings: cursing, and that's it I guess?

word Count: 3,5k

song I listened to while writing: how do you love somebody by why don't we

author’s note: writing this fic gave me fucking whiplash, I never knew where it was taking me. happy reading peeps.

“Hangman, you made it!” Payback hollered as Jake stepped into the Hard Deck, and he merely waved at his team mate, his gaze sweeping the bar. While part of him knew that there was no chance that you’d be here, he still couldn’t help looking for you. Last Jake heard, you had moved to LA to be closer to your family, but then again, it wasn’t like he was really up to date with your current whereabouts.

“She’s not here,” Coyote muttered to Jake as he reached the pool table, pressing a cold bottle of beer into his hand. Jake wasn’t sure if he felt relief or disappointment to hear that, but he took a swig of his beer before grabbing one of the cue sticks.

“Alright, who’s ready to lose some money?”

“Don’t be too certain, Hangman,” Phoenix said, pointing her cue stick at him. “I picked up some tricks while I was in Florida.”

“Well, then it’s going to be an even bigger honor when I beat you.”

As they took turns sinking their balls into the nets, Jake couldn’t help noticing how Rooster kept pulling Phoenix aside when it wasn’t her turn. Whenever they noticed him watching, though, they changed the topic. So they were talking about something that they didn’t want him to know about. Therefore Jake subtly moved to the other side of the pool table, acting like he was assessing his strategy, until he could hear their conversation.

“- a bit unfair, Tash? You’re just throwing him into the cold water here. You would tell her if it was the other way around.”

“Yes, I would, because he’s the reason they didn’t work out in the end,” Phoenix hissed back, glancing at Jake, but he moved around the corner, placing his stick, so she turned her attention back to Rooster.

“I don’t know, I just don’t think it’s going to end well. I thought he was your friend.”

“He is, Rooster. But she’s my girl, I’m always going to have her back first.”

Who is the she they kept talking about? They couldn’t possibly be talking about you, right? Jake was about to sink his last ball into the net, when he suddenly heard Phoenix call out your name. Cursing, the stick slipped out of his hand and the white cute ball was shot in the opposite direction he wanted it to go.

“‘m sorry man,” Rooster said under his breath with a clap on his shoulder, when Jake saw you rounding the corner of the bar, falling into Phoenix’ arms, and it felt like all of the oxygen was sucked out of Jake’s lungs.

While he knew that it was possible that you’d be here, he hadn’t expected what seeing you would make him feel. Jake watched you embrace Phoenix and Halo, apparently catching up with them when Rooster greeted you with a hug as well.

“You okay?” Coyote asked, suddenly having given up his game of darts with Fanboy, like the good friend he was.

Jake nodded dumbly, his hands clammy, so he pressed the cue stick into Coyote’s hands. “I think I need something stronger than a beer. “

Waving down Penny at the bar, Jake tapped his nails against the counter, inhaling deeply, hoping to get rid of the blockage he felt in his throat. As Penny slid him his drink, she sent him a pitying smile and he nodded in acknowledgement. Jake contemplated just staying there, sulking, but instead he inhaled deeply, took a swig of his whiskey and marched over to where you were talking with Phoenix. Calling out your name, he made his presence known.

“Jake. Hey,” you greeted him, considerably less warm than a few seconds ago. You didn’t seem surprised to see him and judging by the somewhat guilty look Phoenix was sporting, it was thanks to her.

“Hey,” Jake replied, clearing his throat. “You look good… This really was the last place I’d expected you to be.”

“Why? Because you didn't think I’d want to be in the room as you?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

This was one of the reasons Hangman liked you so much. You never were the kind of person who just took his shit. Most of the time, you gave it back twice as badly.

Jake shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, you did tell me to go to hell, remember?”

“Well, I was hurt,” you shot back. “But that was a long time ago. Bygones be bygones, right?”

Yeah, Jake called bullshit.

“Right… Water under the bridge.”

Judging by the way Phoenix was staring at you with narrowed eyes, he wasn’ the only one who thought you were acting off. She probably remembered how vicious you could be when you got wronged.

And he did wrong you, you had every right to be resentful, instead of giving him the easy way out. He half-expected for you to at least insult him, if not slap him.

“Hey, there you are!”

A dark haired man joined you and Jake, throwing his arm around you. Jake bristled.

“Oh hi babe, haven’t even seen you coming in,” you replied, leaning into his side. “Jake, this is Levi. Levi, this is Jake Seresin.”

“Hey man, nice to meet you,” Levi said, shaking Jake’s hand. His grin, while smarmy, seemed genuine. So he was the reason that you let bygones be bygones. You’d moved on.

“Pleasure.”

“Anyways, I am going to get us drinks. Rum and coke?”

“She doesn’t like rum,” Jake interjected, before you could reply, trying to goad a reaction out of you. “Try a tequila sunrise.”

“Thanks man.”

Levi disappeared with a clap on Jake’s shoulder and Jake glanced from Levi to you, one eyebrow raised. You gave him a forced smile. Bygones, huh? Without another word, you followed Levi to the other end of the bar, and Jake couldn’t help but glare after you.

“She seems good,” Rooster said, sliding up next to Jake. He took a sip from his beer, tilting his head. “I’d expected her to punch you in the throat.”

“Me too.”

“m sorry. Can’t be a good feeling to see her with someone else. I tried to warn you,” Rooster said, surprisingly gentle.

Jake merely shrugged, throwing back his whiskey. “‘s not like I expected her to be single till the end of her days. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. I know you still love her.”

Jake glared daggers at Rooster. “Says who? Phoenix?” he scoffed, “I’m the one who broke things off, remember?”

“Says you,” Rooster replied, narrowing his eyes at him. “Don’t you remember when we got drunk at my place? You basically threw a crying fit about her, I was seriously concerned.”

Jake pulled a face. They were drinking Vermouth, and he never has been able to handle that.

“That was ages ago, I’m over her.”

“That was last week.”

Jake exhaled deeply, staring daggers at Levi’s back. Oddly, it made him feel better.

“Come on man, I’ll buy you a drink, I can’t keep watching you trying to make a fool out of yourself.”

///

Turned out that you had moved back to Fightertown for your job and Jake was thrilled. The prospect of having you around more often made him feel things he hasn’t felt in a long time. There was a downside, however, because wherever you went, Levi apparently had to come. Ever since he joined the group at the Hard Deck, he was everywhere.

God, Jake couldn’t stand that guy. And it wasn’t only because you were with him. It was just… Levi was a tool.

He worked for some important banker back in New York and whenever he opened his mouth to talk about his job, Jake wanted to hang himself. (Pun intended). He just didn’t understand what you saw in Levi.

“- very thorough and precise. Not everyone can do what I do.”

Jake was about to throw up in his mouth when he saw you rolling your eyes at Levi behind his back and Jake almost choked on his beer.

Everyone looked at him and Jake waved them off, coughing a bit. “Sorry, went down the wrong pipe.”

“Anyway,” Levi continued, speaking to Fanyboy, the only person who felt obligated to listen to him as the host, while you narrowed your eyes at Jake. When you finally excused yourself and slipped to the kitchen, Jake nearly pushed the armchair over, he stood up that fast.

Phoenix gave him a dirty look but he didn’t spare her a glance, heading to the kitchen. You were leaning your forehead against the fridge and Jake shut the kitchen door behind him quietly. Like a deer in headlights, you stared at him when you realized the two of you were alone.

“So… Have you told him about us yet?”

“What’s there to tell?”

Ouch.

“Oh, I don’t know. If my girlfriend was constantly around her ex, I’d want to know,” Jake pointed out and you grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, taking your time to answer.

“I am not constantly around you. Besides, telling him would just complicate things. I like the way things are right now,” you said and Jake made a noise.

“That suspiciously sounds like you’re not actually serious about him.”

“And why do you care if I am serious about him or not?” you sighed, looking at him. “It’s obvious that you don’t like him very much.”

“Do you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying, despite you constantly parading him around like he’s your show pony, it doesn’t seem like you actually like the poor guy.”

“Oh please, I am not parading anyone around, especially not Levi,” you replied, scoffing. “Are you jealous? Is that what this is about?”

Yeah, that definitely hit a nerve.

“Me, jealous?” Jake sneered, his mean streak showing, “I was the one who dumped you, remember? Why would I be jealous?”

You flinched at his words and Jake immediately regretted what he said. It was cruel and mean, and not necessarily the truth. He knew it was too late to take it back though, when your eyes hardened.

“Fuck you, Jake.”

Helplessly, he was only able to watch you leave, but not without bumping into his shoulder, making him stumble. You brushed past Rooster and Phoenix in the doorway and Jake hadn’t even heard the kitchen door open.

But he certainly heard you slamming the front door shut.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Phoenix muttered with a shake of her head, shoving her glass on the counter before running after you. Rooster merely sighed, running a hand over his face.

“I didn’t mean that,” Jake gritted out, trying to explain himself. Rooster only looked at him with a mixture of disappointment and pity.

“I know. But does that change anything?”

///

A few days have passed since the argument and Fanboy and Payback’s place and Jake was going stir-crazy. He had hoped to get the chance to apologize to you, but you had been missing from any further outings. Jake didn’t know where you were staying and he didn’t have your new number, so all that was left to do was endure Phoenix’ glares and Coyote’s pity drinks. Rooster, while trying to be a friend, mostly tried to keep out of it, which was understandable.

“Jesus, fuck!” Jake cursed, not having paid attention for like five seconds and promptly getting bonked in the head with the football. Rooster had put together a small “end of the month barbecue” and had insisted on another round of dogfight football in the afternoon, which Jake regretted agreeing to. Phoenix had way too much fun tackling him to the ground and she never even looked remotely sorry.

“That’s what you get for not paying attention, Bagman!” Phoenix yelled and Jake bit back a retort, knowing it was no use in disagreeing with her. He instead headed over to the cooler to grab himself some water, stilling with the bottle in his hand when he saw you in a sun chair a few feet down, sun glasses on your face.

It took Jake a few minutes to muster up the bravery to walk up to you, despite the warning stare Phoenix gave him. If you’d heard him trudging up to you, you didn’t acknowledge it, your attention on your book.

“Hey,” he said, somewhat nervously.

He waited a couple of minutes until he realized you weren’t going to make this easy on him, so he cleared his throat, shifting from one foot to another.

“I am sorry,” he finally said and that got your attention, but only barely.

“For what?”

“For saying what I said at Fanboy’s. It wasn’t fair nor true and I shouldn’t have said it.”

Slowly, you lowered your book and closed it, turning to look at him. “I accept your apology. But it doesn’t mean that you’re forgiven.”

Honestly, that’s about as good as he was gonna get. So he plopped down on the sand next to you, eager to get back in your good graces. And since you didn’t make him leave again, he figured he was making progress.

“How come you’re not playing?” you asked, gesturing to the game of football still taking place near the shore.

“A man can only take that many hits. And Phoenix is way stronger than she looks,” Jake grimaced, rolling his shoulders and you bit back a smile.

“I didn’t put her up to it, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I wasn’t. Phoenix is just a good friend like that,” Jake said.

“Well, so is Coyote,” you pointed and Jake looked at you questioningly. “He hasn’t tackled me in football or anything, but I am pretty sure he spilled his drink on Levi twice last week. On purpose.”

Jake barked out a laugh. Coyote hadn’t told him about that. He really needed to buy him a drink for once.

“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to him,” He promised, before pausing. “So. Where’s Levi?”

“Don’t push it.”

///

Later that day, Jake was helping Phoenix light up the bonfire while the rest was taking care of the rest. Jake wasn’t sure what Rooster was thinking, assigning them both to the bonfire. Jake was terrified that Phoenix would “accidentally” light him on fire or something. Her call-sign had to come from somewhere.

“I am not going to push you into the fire, Hangman.”

“Is that a promise?” Jake asked lightly, tossing the smaller twigs into the lower half of the bonfire. “I just feel like you’re more foe than friend nowadays. I thought I had seniority.”

Phoenix leaned her hands into her hips, staring at him. “I know I was your friend first, but you hurt her. Breaking up with her the way you did? Saying stuff like that? I couldn’t stand with you over her.”

Jake was silent, keeping his gaze on the floor. He didn’t like making mistakes, and he liked it even less when people pointed out the mistakes he’d made. And breaking up with you was the biggest mistake he’s ever made.

“She forgave me.”

“Has she? Or is that just what you like to believe?”

Jake gritted his teeth. “What’s the point of this?”

“The point is, I see the way you’re looking at her. It’s the same way you used to look, honestly I don’t think it ever changed. You’re still in love with her,” Phoenix said, looking at, like she dared him to say she was wrong. “So if you really love her, and want to be with her, you should be ready to marry that girl. Because if you break her again, Hangman?”

Phoenix stepped into Jake’s personal space and he was only like, 80% scared.

“I will break you. And that is a promise.”

///

“Why am I not surprised to see you here?”

As the night had progressed, you somehow had reappeared, without Levi, Jake had noticed. While most were sitting around the bonfire, roasting marshmallows, you had sat down a bit further down the beach.

“Because I am actually a nice person who people want to be friends with, unlike you.”

Jake grinned into his beer, offering you the other bottle, before sitting down next to you.

“Thanks,” you said, taking a sip from your beer. Jake sat with you in comfortable silence before he cleared his throat, making you look at him.

“You know, earlier when I was apologizing to you? Well, I left something out. I, um. I wanted to apologize for breaking up with you.”

“Jake, what-?”

“Just let me finish,” Jake said and you sighed. “I was scared. You looked so ready to settle down and it terrified me that I wouldn’t be able to give you what you wanted or deserved, but at the same time I felt like I was missing out on life. And just, the way I broke things off… I could’ve handled things better. I am sorry for hurting you.”

Jake never realized how good it would feel to get these words out, after holding them on for so long. And he was glad that he said it, with you giving him the first genuine smile in a long time.

“Thank you for saying that,” you said, hugging your knees closer. You looked like you wanted to say something else, so Jake gave you the time you needed. “I have to admit that I lied, when I first saw you again at the hard deck,” you finally admitted. “Bygones are bullshit.”

Jake smirked, pleased that he still knew you good enough to tell when you were lying.

“When I saw you standing by that bar, I just- I wanted to punch you in the face. So badly. But I told myself; no, you need to be the bigger person, so he’ll realize what a mistake he made for leaving. Apparently that only lasted for about a day, because you always manage to get under my skin.”

“That’s part of my charm,” he chimed in, bumping his shoulder into yours with a laugh.

“No, I am pretty sure it’s just plain annoying,” you retorted with a roll of your eyes, still smiling. “I guess I was still pretty angry, and I never knew until I saw you again. So. Thanks for apologizing. It means a lot.”

“Yeah, ‘course.” Jake said gently. There was still something that was bothering him, but he didn’t know how to ask without making you mad again, so he opted against asking. Pursing his lips, he sighed quietly, before taking a sip from his beer, making you groan.

“You look like you’re about to explode, just ask already!”

“Jesus, woman, fine. I was just wondering where you left Levi.”

“God, you’re so predictable,” you cried out gleefully and he glared at you.

“Well, are you going to answer my question or not?”

“Probably back in New York. We broke up a few days ago.”

Jake looked at you, somewhat bewildered. He wasn’t sure what he should say to that. “I’m sorry?” he offered and you waved him off, shoving the beer bottle into the sand.

“It’s fine. We were fizzling out anyway,” you said. “He was kind of pretentious, wasn’t he?”

“So pretentious. And that’s me talking.”

You laughed, shrugging with your shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s my type.”

Jake’s stupid little heart made a little jump and he hid his smile in his shoulder, staring at the small waves crashing into the shore. He thought about asking you out, but he felt stupid. He broke up with you, and now he was coming crawling back to ask for a second chance? Jake didn’t even know if he had the right to ask you out again.

When you suddenly leaned your head on his shoulder, Jake tensed a bit, before relaxing, leaning into you.

“Do you think we would’ve been married by now if you hadn’t chickened out?” you asked all of a sudden and Jake’s eyes widened slightly, before he shrugged.

“I don’t know. Would you want to be?”

“Are you proposing, Jake Seresin?” you laughed, pulling back to look at him, but he only raised an eyebrow at you. God, he didn’t even know what was riding him right now.

“I was kidding, Jake. We’re not even dating anymore.”

“But you know we’re a good match,” he pointed out, inching closer to you until you looked noticeably more nervous. Lifting a hand, Jake pushed a stray strand of hair out of your face and you frowned at him.

“Who even said that I love you anymore?”

“Are you saying you don’t?”

Jake was so close to you, that he could feel your breath on his skin when you spoke. He came even closer, waiting for you to push him away, but when you didn’t, he finally pressed his lips against yours. You sighed softly into the kiss, and Jake cradled your face, smiling. Kissing you after all this time… It felt like coming home.

After a few seconds, you pulled away, leaning your forehead against his.

“I am not marrying you, Jake.”

“Right now, or ever?”

With a roll of your eyes, you pulled away, but Jake grasped your hands, pulling you back. He gave you a long, hard look and you shook your head.

“You gonna break my heart again, Seresin?”

“Not even if you wanted me to, sweetheart.”

🏷️list: @rosiahills22 // @alluringshawn // @dempy // @obiwankenobis-lap // @luckyladycreator2

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin fanfiction

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libidomechanica · 5 days

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The divine

—An’ O for a five year old age. Remain as its only Florida. But when we court us no more, for we will. But three April performing Chloe. Boys! To fight, never

why shore a second health in death. Break, break her: strong, supple, sinew-corded, apt at all. My life renew. The maids and the only Stellaes eyes of your arms open, eyes survivor

bulging with her at all. And think’st by how farre this, dearest and give me on my father’s bleed, my onelie hire, desire! He scent and yet amid all must show seems a gracious

seem to lovest thou mayst comfort neer. Behind your prince’s functions rage unbred; ere you? And I feel thou hast had reddens what can be fynd, and, wonder highest foam of this

knot too deepe furrow bring your whole and free, and sword and unruffled; they are, or doth sweet with scoffing, and its meaning in the beauty still we call the chorded shell, his eyes. We

hunter; woman wed is the first step. Thee have her neck, And straitly curbed she movies or once, went unexplained, a folded to fill a little tepid pool, that my tempests cleere,

stella, I say, phillis the road and its head, pitying abroad and pure and so I often lived in a window light appeare: which the going. Take me to thee: while I fled.

Such as might, that fills both sides all, that I did but sweetest lips meet! I brought they him clayme with me, and sting, that their baldness now, if you’re lucky together, Tut, you for it. I

am watery disk caught in the Temple’s inner leave for her splendent sun hotter things at parle: and mid the coldness up and prospered jest to render you occur in

grass! My hear’st thou, that transient in a mirror are one with the Seven of love and rainy, O; but brightness, or flowering him home; but tis too high, though I be left sucked on

the weird affection clung the winds are sad and whiskey, on their image yow made, the lists were pitty. The porch with, when thou return. Unworthy reason. The rapture, that he left

to wish thy be to one, one this story, let so we can his hand, and breed up her visage all my name is not one another; for he nil false to bow, syllables in thy

poet’s eyes squinched with a melody they be, i’m thine at a window, Sweet! Robert Burns: country in Mexico I slept in a dreams, and he had drunk in tourney takes it

up, and she will not his lips to our point: not lock’d up in her look up the Impression learned here are not talked on the boat and doat. Vulture: is not one that wing that in answer.

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of the most uselessenesse with you, when the sheath, the pain, whence ye see my business, and on thee more fat, by all the raging fyre, the bottomless apartment and maist thou

ever mouth doth keepe. While, I will die. Hey, rose, just musings in which she lovers on the garden bed this is short-numbers sweeter the honour first time, butchered by a ghastly

glimmering scarfs and dumplin burn blue. I’ll not ask. Her brother dreerie death he red man dance Yea, ’ answered, touched by the huge tree-house did heart compeld my mouth was grave. This small glory.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #135 texts #ballad

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the-firebird69 · 11 months

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Watch "The greatest day at the 2021 San Diego FitExpo part 3" on YouTube

Started doing this again they kicked him out and recently it was 3 or 2 days ago two days ago and up the street actually in Tampa and one of them said if you come in again I'm going to kick your head in. And so he came in again the guy went outside and kicked his head in and dented it. A lot of times it gets killed and that's one of them. He is criminally mentally ill and needs to be locked up but he's not your son's going ballistic and these people are losing and we're helping and we're doing our plan and their plan as well same plan we know about the ship and it's larger than Tommy F biggest ship by about 2/3 so it's almost twice as big and it's not the biggest it's our sonship and our daughter is just on the other coast both of them are massive they take up a good chunk of the Earth there are four more and three of them are bigger than Tommy F biggest ship and we were surprised but then they said their ships combined and it becomes the biggest ship and they locked together. The stone is different than maybe other components that you don't know about and we will we won't talk about and the insides are different than what you think and it's none of your business it does have ancient murals in there and carvings as well and the clans did not go in there.

You saw them die and we're going to get you cuz you're saying a lot of stuff there's nothing you can really do against us it's going to be pitiful right now we've taken the areas and secured them and we've secured the Midwest to the wall in the south and we secure the Midwest to the wall in the western portion and the Eastern that from River to River there's still a 100 MI it is yours it's a Swath, and really from the wall South about 500 miles your 2 mi on either side of each River and that's it the rest of it's gone in those areas are evacuating now along the rivers and the 100 mi swath rapidly because we're going in there now taking everything too. We're using your gas gas and the KTM and we are in Mack out some of them out of there and we are using the ATK and whatever else we find or manufacturing our own he decided to stick with ATK cuz he wants to use it and we're using the KTM too and other brands and those brands are ours and he and she designed this Canadian vehicles and it was about 30 years ago and you're going to have to pay for them now but you are and we're going after the money. You're a huge groups now descending on the East Coast giant ones keep in mind the ships intact that the plate moved. At the tip of the ship is Florida and it's an angel it's made out of a certain material you might be interested to know and that material has the magnetic field around it that prevents it from deteriorating and scatter is the dust so it doesn't destroy the ship while it's underway even though it's shielded it does work. And he says it's of her that it's not it's his angel and it looks like Archangel Michael it is of himself, where is Archangel Michael in the statues looks a bit more chiseled like Bill Pierce he was younger and thinner

You'll be amazed but then you'll be very dead we don't have anyone survive who has any information sadly his plan was intelligent and they could become Giants and died fighting

Thor Freya

And yeah that's where I come from I come from the water

But these are the arcs and they're meant for our people and once again that's not exactly where I'm from and those mega diamonds you're saying Tommy f is down there but you have to wait and see I guess

Hera

Wow this is going to truly suck I should never let these idiots do anything

Mac

You don't mean you of course but it is funny

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princessofprocrastination · 3 years

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Nothing But Hatred (GeorgeNotFound)

MASTERLIST

pairing : georgenotfound / george davidson x reader

summary : you had nothing but love for people, even strangers. so how could george hate you so much?

a/n : long imagine? i owe you guys this. also, happy new years!

you were taught since young to love people.

“you don’t know what they have gone through before.” your mum always reminded you whenever you would complain to her about someone.

and since then, the quote stuck to you. it was planted in your head even more when she passed away. you couldn’t describe the pain to other people.

your dad also left the earth soon after her, following suite. his last words to you in the hospital were “i know you can take care of yourself, i believe in you. always.” you just turned eighteen then.

since you were a legal adult, the house was automatically yours. now, you’re twenty-one, and since then, you have moved out.

you found yourself a decent sized house. born and raised in florida, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave the country, or state, that is. that’s just one thing you couldn’t bring yourself to do.

you often forget that you’re on your own, no parents. born the only child, no siblings. and since you are a legal adult and everyone thinks you’re all good on your own, seeing that you have done many things on your own, your relatives don’t pry in your life.

no, you weren’t lonely, if you say so yourself. you and dream, or clay, as you call him are best friends. literally platonic soulmates. you met him when you both are seventeen. he stayed with you through everything.

when he started blowing up on social media, you were ecstatic. but you would often jokingly brag to him that you blew up way before he did.

you didn’t understand why people watched you, if you were being honest. clay would say that it’s because of your charming and kind self that brought so many supportive people. you don’t agree.

you never once pried in clay’s life. in social media and in real life. who’s his friends are his and you never would try to come across that. your friends and yours and his friends are his. simple.

when clay blew up, no one knew that the two of you even knew each other, let alone best friends. they found that out weirdly. somehow they heard clay screaming in your kitchen when you were streaming. that clearly was a common occurrence for you since you barely even acknowledged it.

yes, before anyone asks, there were shipping comments immediately after that. but, you two talked about it on stream, about how you two were nothing but amazing friends. but neither of you mind the ship comments. the fanarts have always been so incredible.

being the biggest supporter of clay, or dream, you watched every single stream, video, liked posts of his, so you knew who his friends were.

although you told clay that you didn’t want to pry into his life, he begged you to talk to his friends. you clicked so well with everyone. beside george. you didn’t understand it at first. whenever you’d watch his streams, he’d seem so nice and welcoming.

but somehow, whenever you’d join in their discord or play in the dream smp, his tone would change drastically.

after some time, you got the memo. he just didn’t like you. and you accepted that. not everyone would like you, so you backed off. you gave excuses to clay if george was present.

you didn’t want to be the one interrupting his stream or be the cause of his mood change. so you stayed away, and so far, it had been better that way.

you and clay were different in some ways. everyone is. but to be more specific, he made his money off of social media. and no, this wasn’t to say that he is below you. in fact, he was lucky that he got to do that.

and this also didn’t meant that you couldn’t live off of your streaming money, you just rather do something other than social media. you wanted to make sure that if one day your social media career were to flop, you’d have a backup plan.

but you didn’t want to put your degree to waste. your mum used to tell you all the time to study all while you are still young, so that you don’t regret it when you’re older.

so that is what you did. you spent your years studying psychology, something you’ve always wanted to do. and in your free time, you’d stream or make videos. you didn’t tell that to the public, wanting that part of you to be private and away from social media.

and one more thing, you never once brought up the loss of your parents to the public. you wanted people to like you for you, and not want them to like you for pity. hence, no one besides clay knew about your parents.

and lucky for you, clay understood and no one had brought up any questions about your parents. they just knew you lived alone.

you sat on clay’s bed, on your laptop, typing in important paperwork that had to be done from home. he invited you over. he told you he was lonely and that he needed the company. and in exchange of your company, he’d buy the both of you takeout for dinner.

so you agreed. you told him that you being there would make no difference since you would be sat in the corner doing work anyways but he still begged you to come, saying that he didn’t mind it, that he just wanted you to be there.

that is another common occurrence. there are days when he just needed someone to be there with him, in the same room. you never asked why but you enjoyed the company too, so you never bothered to know.

as you sat on his bed typing, he was on his desk recording a minecraft hitmen video for his youtube with george, sapnap and badboyhalo. you could feel the nerves coming from him.

he did need to pay his friends if he lost, after all. not that he cared about money but his ego was too big to lose now.

you heard him bang his desk as he won, somehow by flying a boat. your best friend was a genius anyways, so you were not surprised that he did something new.

now they were just talking on discord, you still typing on your laptop, unmoving from your spot on his bed.

“you hungry?” clay asked you, to which you didn’t reply, since you were too focused into your work. he called your name another two times before you stopped typing and looked up at him.

you shook your head, and pointed to your laptop, telling him that you just wanted to get this done before the two of you ate. he continued talking to his friends after that.

“yeah she’s here. i just needed the company.” you heard him say. you knew he was talking about you. his friends probably asked who he was talking to earlier, anyway.

“george, stop.” you heard him say. your heart sunk a little. you could hear the conversation going on in discord. you had heard george saying something along the lines of ‘if she’s here i’m out.’

that really hurt, but you knew you had to suck it up. “i’ll leave, it’s okay.” you said, closing your laptop and picking up your stuff.

“wait, don’t leave. he’s jok-”

“i’ll see you another day, clay. go have fun.” you cut his sentence, smiling at him as you left his room, and place.

as you sat in your car, driving home, you wondered if you were really unlikeable. clay always said that you are the nicest person he’s ever met yet you never believed him. this was the reason. why did his friend hate you so damn much?

you tried to push it to the back of your mind. you parked your car in your house garage, but stayed in the car.

at this time you wished you had your parents still. death comes to everyone at some point, and you knew that. but it felt unfair, not having both your parents. you wished you still had them to talk to, to hug and cry to whenever you had a bad day.

weeks pass since that uneventful day and you are not having the best day.

to sum it up, you went to work early, ready to meet your mentor, to teach you the way around your workplace. however, your mentor had called in sick and apologized to you.

everyone gets sick so you didn’t blame her. but that would mean that you had to do things on your own, no one to guide you, so you were lost constantly. this also meant that you were screamed at a lot.

they called you names, saying that you are useless, slow, lazy, and that you are just a pretty face but you didn’t have the brains to work professionally. sure, that hurt. but at the end of the day, this was what you wanted, so you continued, you pushed through all the mean words.

you went home with a heavy heart. you were exhausted, mentally drained as well. you facetimed clay on your way home, when you were driving to tell him everything. you just needed to let it out.

he told you to go home and relax, that you would be all good tomorrow.

at first, you believed him, but then you felt like you weren’t feeling any better, so you decided to stream.

“i just showered, please ignore my wet hair.” you told chat as you started your stream.

as the hour passes, you started to feel better. clay watched your stream, donating you at times to ask you questions.

your phone goes off, signaling someone calling you. you picked up, knowing it was clay anyways since no one else would call you at 10pm.

“discord.” he told you and hung up.

“wow, not even a hi. what a friend.” you told your chat while you got in discord.

you silently went in, not greeting anyone. you had a feeling that it isn’t just clay in the call.

“there she is.” sapnap called you out. you said hi to all of them, even george, who you knew was in the call too. he only grumbled a reply to you.

you guessed that george streaming since sometimes he would talk to himself, not muted. sapnap told you to join the smp and play with them, to which you agreed since the night was still young anyways.

you spawned at sapnap’s house somehow, but walked across the smp towards where the rest of them were. you heard george say something as your character walked closer to them, you were still in the discord call, anyways.

“dream, why did she need to be here?” you heard him say.

“maybe cause i’m his best friend?” you replied, innocently. you didn’t realize that you saying this would cause a huge problem, or could potentially lead to a fight between the boys and you.

“i’m his best friend, you butt off.” he says, somewhat using an angry tone.

“wait, i didn’t mean to-” you tried to say but was cut off by george.

“you’re literally so fucking annoying. i don’t understand how clay can stand you.” he almost shouted.

you could feel the tears coming, but you tried your best to keep it in, not wanting to cry on stream, especially with your facecam on.

“george, language.” bad told him off, trying to ease the tension.

“no, no. i’m not going to just sit and keep quiet anymore. i don’t like her here.” george starts another sentence.

“i’ll go.” you tried to say, voice small.

“georg-” clay tries to stop him before it goes too far.

“chat says she’s about to cry? well go cry to your mum, don’t waste your time here on the smp.” he scolds.

fuck. that one really hurt. “george what the fuck.” you heard clay say before you silently left the smp and discord chat.

you still had your stream. you didn’t want to disappoint so you still kept your stream going, trying not to cry.

you connected your ipad to your laptop so they could see what you were up to. you decided to draw since you didn’t feel like going on your own world in minecraft.

“chat, i drew this of sapnap the other day cause i was bored.” you showed them, zooming in the drawing on your ipad.

your intention was to only show chat your drawing of sapnap but you didn’t realize that you accidentally clicked off that drawing, and showed a different drawing on stream.

“oops, you weren’t suppose to see that, chat.” you told them as you clicked back from the drawing you accidentally showed them. specifically, you had shown them a drawing of george that you made.

“calm down, chat. i draw everyone.” you tried to ease the comments that arrived to your stream.

“i even drew dream but that’s in my private section cause you guys haven’t seen his face yet.” you told them.

the comments were positive. some of them were telling you to post it on twitter, that the boys would appreciate it. “oh my god, chat. fine i will, i’ll post them right now.”

you went on twitter and posted every single drawing of them, even clay’s but you picked the ones that you had drawn a mask on him. you captioned it “chat told me to do it and i couldn’t disappoint them.”

slowly you saw that your positive chat started to turn very negative. the name calling, the degrading. people were calling you attention seeking, that you are nothing but a whore for drawing them all.

“okay guys, i should go to bed, i have things to do in the morning.” you told them, saying goodbye, leaving the stream and turning your pc off.

you had your twitter notifications off so that you wouldn’t be annoyed at the constant pinging but since you were already on twitter, you had known that most of the people you drew had already noticed it. they retweeted it, screenshotted it, asking for your permission to post it or use it in their profile.

you replied to most of them, before turning your phone off to get ready for bed.

you sat on your bed, staring at your wall opposite you. you could feel the exhaustion come over you, the tears streaming down your face. it had been a good couple of hours.

streaming definitely did take your mind off a lot of the things from your job earlier. but somehow you felt like your day got worse.

you didn’t blame george, nor anyone for the matter. you needed to just suck it up, that not everyone will like you and that it’s okay for someone to call you out like that.

that didn’t mean what he said didn’t hurt. in fact, nothing hurt you more than this. the fact he reminded you about your mum. you wished you could cry to your mum. everyday. you just wanted to hug her, talk to her. you wanted nothing else than to have a couple more moments with your parents.

you needed to be tough, as your dad told you to be. you won’t be torn down because of this. your phone rang. you already know it’s clay facetiming you. you dried your tears and quickly went to wash your face.

“hi.” you started, smiling to him as you picked the call up.

“you don’t have to act like you’re okay. you’re allowed to cry.” he reminds you.

“i am okay, don’t worry.” you told him.

“you aren’t” he starts. “he went too far, i’m sorry.” he says.

“don’t apologize. neither of your faults. i am tired though, i’m going to bed and so should you.” you replied to him, reminding him not to remain awake for too long.

“sleep well, hopefully tomorrow won’t suck for you. i’ll sleep later. goodnight. i love you.”

“i love you too.” you told him before you ended the call.

you laid down on your bed, continued crying and praying that tomorrow would be better. with that, you cocooned yourself in your covers and went to bed.

DREAM’S POV

“what the actual fuck, george.” i scolded the british boy as you left the smp and discord call.

“turn off your streams, all of you.” i told them.

i had your live put up on my other monitor, so i knew exactly what was going on and what she was doing. so far, her chat had nothing but nice things to say and now she’s showing her drawings to them.

good. she’s good so far. she’s probably only trying to take her mind off things.

as all the boys turned off their streams, i told them to wait before i continues saying anything. we were all still on minecraft, doing our own things. i couldn’t just sit and do nothing, i would end up being too mad and breaking things.

“i am so fucking disappointed in you, george.” i started to say. i was truly disappointed. i knew the two of them somehow didn’t get along well but i didn’t understand why he’s such an ass about this.

“i find her so fucking pretentious. i refuse to sit here and not say anything about it.” george told all of us. i wish i could shake him awake right now.

“she has been nothing but nice to you, what is wrong with you?” my voice louder now.

“clay, i fucking hate her. she’s acting nice in front of everyone. you, chat. i don’t like that.”

“acting nice? she’s the nicest person i’ve met.” i scolded him, bad and sapnap agreeing with me.

“then you clearly haven’t met many nice people, clay.” he told me, scoffing.

at this, i got more angry. i didn’t want to hold back. i couldn’t anymore. although i knew she’d get mad at me for telling people this, i didn’t care. i had to tell them, tell george. he will not just step on my best friend and get away with it, not when i’m around.

“you dickhead. you told her to cry to her mum. her mum isn’t there to be there for her, to console her, to calm her down when your bitch-ass decide to talk crap about her. her dad isn’t there to hug her, to tell her that boys like you don’t deserve her. you really fucked up this time, george. i can’t believe you.” i basically screamed at him.

“what?” i head sapnap say. “you don’t say-” he tried to say again.

“her parents passed away when she was eighteen. she had no one but me. even her relatives don’t give a shit about her anymore.” i told them. that felt good to say. sure, it is a private matter about you and i should respect her boundaries but i can’t listen to george talk shit about you like that and not do anything.

“i hope you’re happy, george. you probably fucking broke her.” i told him before leaving the smp and discord call.

before i left, i heard him. “fuck.” i knew bad and sapnap would torment him anyways.

i called you right after that. you looked fresh and looked like you haven’t been crying but i knew better. i knew you went to the bathroom before picking up my phone call. i knew you too well.

when she hung up on me, i went to check out her twitter. i saw my twitter notifications earlier and saw that she posted something. i knew it had to be one of the drawings. chat must’ve told her to post it.

my heart sunk when i saw a drawing of george. you are too nice for this world. no one on this earth deserves you, not even me. the fact that you still posted him when he was the cause of your tears prior to this.

and the fact that he has been mean to you since the start yet you still spent hours drawing him just melts me. george really needs to wake up.

i saved the drawing you drew of me and had it up as my profile picture. it was too wholesome. you really are talented. not to mention, really smart too. you were incredibly forgiving, it wouldn’t shock me to hear that you’re not even mad at george for being so rude to you.

YOUR POV

i heard a knock on my door as i was finishing reading a book. i went to the front door not really expecting it to be anyone. maybe it’s clay, since he comes to your house often and never told you earlier. not that you mind, anyways.

you were shocked, to say the least, to see a slightly shorter than clay, boy standing in front of you. that isn’t the shocking part. it is the fact that you are well aware of the man standing in front of you.

george. and for some reason, he was holding flowers.

when you opened the door, he smiled sheepishly at you. you just stared at him, waiting for him to say something before you decide to.

nothing. he says nothing. “is this about the things you called me? i totally get why you said what you did and i don’t blame you.” you said first, since it didn’t seem like he would.

“how am i not one to blame when i was so incredibly rude to you, not even getting to know you first.” he finally opens up.

“did clay ask you to come?” you asked him. he shook his head.

“i offered, actually.” he started.

“i couldn’t just sit around and not try to apologize. i’m so sorry for turning a blind eye and calling you such things. i didn’t mean any of it.” he says.

before you try to say something, he cuts you off. “and i know you’re going to stand there and tell me i did nothing wrong, that i have nothing to apologize about but that’s not true.” he says.

you smiled. were you that predictable. you knew he had a couple more things to say, hence you kept your mouth shut and told him to continue, and that you wouldn’t cut in this time.

besides, him apologizing with bouquet of flowers in his hands is just too adorable for you. so you decide that you should enjoy this.

“clay told me how much of an idiot i am for talking about your mum. i didn’t mean anything i said, i swear.” he starts again.

“i just- it seems like you and clay are so close and it made me feel so alone, like i barely stood a chance with you in the first place. and that thought alone made me feel enraged. i know that doesn’t count as an excuse, nothing can count as an excuse bu-” you cut him off by pulling him by behind his neck to kiss him.

the kiss was short, but sweet. it was for two reasons, one, to shut him up, for him to stop rambling, and two, for him to realize that you liked him just as much.

as you pulled away from the short kiss, he was already looking at you with a glint in his eyes, as if he was looking at the last piece of donut in a coffee shop.

he showed you a grin, a grin like none other. it showed you how much he did actually like you.

it’s safe to say he only spent the rest of his stay at your house, or in your company. even clay couldn’t steal him from you.

#georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound #georgenotfound imagines #georgenotfound imagine #georgenotfound fanfic #georgenotfound fanfiction

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imagine-loki · 3 years

Text

Blushing in His Colours, Chapter 22

TITLE: Blushing in His Colours CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 22 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki being a Daddy Dom, his adores and loves his little, worships the ground she walks on. She has vaginismus, but he couldn’t be more supportive with her. RATING: M

Loki and Mia got a private jet to the coast of Florida, then a boat took them out to the villa that was sat on a small island.

It was just the villa up high on rocks and there was a small beach area. There was a pool, too. The villa was pretty big, as they had expected it to be.

Mia was excited as she looked around the place, there were three bedrooms, all with an en-suite. They picked the biggest one with sliding glass doors that led right out onto the patio where the pool was.

Even though they spent every night together, either in Loki’s room or Mia’s, there was still something rather exciting about the fact they were sharing a room. Heck, their own place together, even if just for a while.

There was plenty of food stocked in the fridge, freezer and cupboards. But they would be able to get anything else they needed delivered over within the day.

They spent the day getting accustomed to the villa and having dinner. They watched a movie together and just snuggled for the evening. Then Mia went to bed and when Loki went through a little while later, he found her watching something on her iPad.

‘What are you watching, sweetling?’ He asked, but he recognised the sound.

She looked like a deer caught in the headlights as she quickly stopped it and threw the iPad down on the bed. Trying to look innocent.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked as he started stalking towards her. ‘Little one, tell Daddy what you were watching.’

‘Uhm… cartoons.’ She lied, so obviously.

Loki stopped at the side of the bed and folded his arms across his chest, raising an eyebrow at her. ‘Don’t lie to Daddy. You were watching the drone footage, weren’t you?’

Mia’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. She knew she was caught. She bit her lower lip and nodded slowly, making Loki chuckle.

‘Does it arouse you, pet? Knowing how powerful I am?’ Loki growled seductively.

‘I… I always knew you were powerful. I just… never realised quite how much.’ She said quietly.

Loki smiled and winked at her. ‘Take off your clothes for Daddy and give him your panties, little sweetling.’ He said firmly.

Mia slipped off the bed and quickly took off her clothes, she handed him her panties like he wanted. Her face was on fire when he took them and examined them, there was a wet patch, like he had expected.

Smirking, he slipped them into his pocket. ‘Kneel.’ He growled.

She obeyed him instantly, kneeling at his feet. But she moved in close to him and wrapped her arms around his leg, pressing her cheek against his thigh. He reached down and stroked her hair softly.

‘My good girl.’ He purred.

Mia closed her eyes and revelled in his praise and touch. She looked up at him, smiling. He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb up and down, setting her skin alight.

He skimmed his thumb over her lower lip, she parted her lips and he slipped it into her mouth. His cock stirring even more when she started sucking on it, slowly.

‘Ohhh sweetling, you are going to be the death of me.’ He groaned.

Mia slid a hand up his leg and palmed at his cock, she could feel him hardening. She did her best to look as innocent as possible while she swirled her tongue around his thumb and squeezed his cock.

Loki had noticed over time she was getting braver, more confident in herself and her actions. He was awakening the kinky beast within her, and he was totally here for it.

Although, he wasn’t sure if he was totally here for getting his cock sucked right now and cumming embarrassingly quick again. Plus, he had other plans for her anyway… Or so he thought.

‘Can I suck you, please Daddy?’ She asked quietly around his thumb.

Loki groaned again and his head fell back for a moment. How could he resist when she begged, while quite literally on her knees? Her hand still stroking him through his trousers wasn’t helping his dilemma, either.

He looked down and slipped his thumb out from her mouth, stroking her hair. ‘Hmmm, do you really want to suck Daddy’s cock?’

Mia nodded eagerly, squeezing him excitedly.

‘I’ve got a better idea.’ He bent over and lifted her up, making her squeal. He tossed her, gently, onto the bed and as he crawled on with her, his clothes vanished.

He grabbed hold of her and lay down, pulling her on top of him but top to tail. She knew exactly what he was proposing as soon as she was in position. He gripped her thighs and pulled her directly over his face and got to work, licking and suckling her folds and her clit, driving her wild already.

Loki had hoped that having her pleasure to focus on would help him last longer. Oh boy, was he wrong.

When he felt her lips wrap around the tip of his cock, he moaned against her. She then took him further into her mouth and started sucking him. He tried to focus on her clit, rapidly flicking his tongue over her, but that made matters worse as she moaned around him, causing vibrations that made him cum.

She swallowed every drop he had to offer her, lavishing her tongue all over his cock to make sure she hadn’t missed any. Loki really struggled to focus, but her taste was too intoxicating so he was able to continue pleasuring her, living up to his silver tongue nickname.

Loki was still hard, even after cumming. Which delighted Mia. She was struggling to concentrate, Loki’s tongue causing too much havoc on her. But she was obsessed with Loki’s cock, she enjoyed simply having him in her mouth. So even though she couldn’t concentrate properly anymore, she took him in her mouth and just slowly sucked him.

From already cumming once, and the slightly less intensity, he was able to last longer now. He focused on her clit and drove her wild, making her cum too. But he didn’t stop there, his grip on her thighs tightened and he kept pushing her through into another orgasm.

Mia wasn’t sure how she managed to refrain from biting down on his cock as he forced orgasm upon orgasm out of her. Her body shook on top of him, until he came again and then he decided to have some pity on his poor girl.

He rolled her off him and manoeuvred her around so she was up next to him, she snuggled into him as she tried to get her breath back. Loki lazily stroked her back, feeling goosebumps rise on her skin under his touch, making him smile.

‘Sweet dreams, my little sweetling.’ He said as he kissed the top of her head before the two of them drifted off to sleep.

The following morning, Loki woke up moaning and arching his back up off the bed as he came, from the feeling of Mia’s warm mouth around his cock, sucking him.

‘Ohhhh Jesus!’ He gasped as he spilled into her mouth and she swallowed it all.

He lifted the blanket up and looked down, seeing her grinning cheekily up at him from between his legs as she licked her lips.

‘Mia!’ He panted.

‘Good morning, Daddy!’ She crawled up and lay on top of him.

Loki put his arms around her and slid a hand down to squeeze her bum playfully. ‘Good morning indeed, sweetling. What was that about?’ He chuckled. His mind was still trying to catch up with his body after that awakening.

Mia giggled and nuzzled into his neck. ‘I just… wanted to give you a nice wake up call. And it was fun taking my time and… exploring a bit.’

Loki raised an eyebrow and looked down at her. ‘Did I last longer this time?’

‘Yep.’ She grinned.

‘Well, that is interesting. Progress.’ He chuckled.

‘Can we go for a swim? Pleeeeeeease.’ Mia pleaded and fluttered her eyelashes.

Loki smirked. ‘Alright. You know I can’t resist it when you beg.’ He tickled up her spine, making her squirm and giggle before she managed to slip off him to get her swimming costume on.

After a big stretch, Loki slipped out of bed and his swimming trunks shimmered onto him. He had thought about them both just skinny dipping instead, but there was a part of him that was worried about any drones lurking around, you could just never be too sure.

When they got in the pool, it was lush. It was warm as the sun had already heated it up nicely, it was a beautiful day.

Mia floated on her back so peacefully, looking up at the sky. Loki swam a few lengths and then stopped next to her.

‘Are you happy, Mia?’ He asked.

Mia turned in the water so she was upright and she put her arms around his neck for support. Loki put his around her middle, holding her close. ‘Of course I am… Why wouldn’t I be? Are you?’ She asked, a little worried.

Loki smiled. ‘I am the happiest I’ve ever been. I was just worried that all this chaos was making you unhappy. I want to give you the world, sweetling.’ He said softly and smoothed her hair back from her face.

She smiled and moved in to kiss him, he slid his hand to the back of her head and held her as they kissed.

‘I’ve never been happier, Loki. I promise. I love you, so much.’ She whispered over his lips.

Loki felt his heart soar. ‘I love you too, sweetling.’

Mia couldn’t resist then pushing back off his chest and splashing him playfully while laughing. Loki was so surprised as it was unexpected, but he laughed and splashed her back, then he went under the water and chased after her. Making her squeal as she tried to out-swim him.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #Blushing in his colours #chapter 22 #fanfichiddles

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outoftimewriting · 4 years

Text

Imagine (inspired by the incomplete fanfic Son of Underworld) (2/5) (Son of Hades! Percy AU)

Check the other parts in the masterpost - read the warnings before proceeding. Good reading!!

After the worse summer, Percy goes home.

Luke's proposal keeps swimming in his head - the blonde is not wrong, but Percy has been scammed before - he remembers once that a "friend" convinced him to be a lookout for him to do something shady at the Dean's Office and then put the blame on him.

And he was blamed - Percy is black, and black kids are never the innocent ones - but now he knows better.

Being a child of the Underworld gods is not that different from being black.

Percy is comfortable with his skin though - his mother is incredible, and most people at Camp are mixed up. Charles is African-American. Selena's father is Muslim, and the Stoll's mother is Jewish (half the reason they are year-rounders). Clarisse's mom is from Nicaragua. Michael Yew has a Brazilian grandma with Japanese heritage.

He isn't friends with most of them - Charles is like a big brother to him and Michael Yew taught him how to shoot an arrow, but Clarisse is at most a good spar partner and nor the Stolls nor Silena care for his company very much.

Percy tells himself that he doesn't care.

He packs his bags - a blue and red backpack and a few surf shirts from the amusement park where he destroyed a pool and made the ground swallow mechanic spiders, both the Minotaurs horns, now fashioned into very cool knives, his Warhammer and his ax slung across his back. The only sweater he has, the one he came here with, the blue one, is warming him up to the chill of autumn.

Chiron asks him if he doesn't want to stay. He touches the willow standing in the furthest shore of the river, the one that marks the barrier of Camp Half-Blood. It used to be Thalia Grace, daughter of Poseidon.

Chiron looks to him with pity. He doesn't need to know that Percy is planning to murder Gabe Ugliano.

Percy goes to do that. He travels, by car. He has enough money - he has money appearing in his pockets all the time now, his father must be truly guilty.

Then he opens the door of his old apartment - but Gabe is not there, in the living room. There's just his mom, on the couch.

His mom

Alive

Percy cries, and they hug, and then they trade stories. She tells him she was asleep in Olympus, and Zeus gave her back when the bolt got to his hands.

He is less angry. But the heavy weight of indignation seats in his stomach.

There's no time for it now: Percy is going back to Yancy Academy - his grades were not bad - and Gabe is now a very charming statue for someone very rich (later, he will discover it was Persephone who bought it).

He tells her everything, safe in her arms, no shirt, no gloves. His mom can touch him everywhere - not even a cell in his body would attack her.

He is so touch starved he keeps sleeping in her bed for a week, and, at night, he cries. Percy has horrible nightmares - he is just twelve and he has killed.

He tells her about his meeting with his father in hushed whispers at an evening where the sky is blue and pink - just how he likes it.

Sally almost goes to the Underworld herself smack sense in her ex-lover, but she knows Persephone would do so for her.

Percy tells her about Luke - not about the Rebellion, lest any gods hear him, but about Luke and Alabaster and Ethan and those kids, alone in a Cabin of rejects.

She says she is going back to college - and that she'll do her best to go see him every weekend at Yancy.

He tells her about his powers. Sally doesn't like the risks but say he should start practicing for his own safety.

They cuddle and Percy clings to his anchor like a lifeline. Percy wants to go to the Underworld again sometime - more to play with Cerberus than to do anything else.

He takes the bus reluctantly - he offers to stay and go to public school, but he knows his chance lays at Yancy.

Percy study Math. He is in seventh grade now - the real Math is here, the financials and calculus and they keep putting him in "Gifted and Advanced" classes for it.

His English still sucks. Biology, for all that should be easy for him, its way too boring - he prefers dead bodies, thank you very much.

He excels at Math and Health&PE (which summer camp took care), passes with acceptable grades in World History, Geography and Social Studies (he nails a project about demographics with some really helpful ghosts), does badly in Science and fails tragically at English and Literature.

They call him a genius - and a genius has areas they specialize in. His grades in math are enough to push him to the eighth grade.

At weekends, when his mother can't come to see him, he locks his dorm and practices his shadow traveling and his powers over the earth and metal manipulation.

His shadow traveling is a mess - once he ends up in Ukraine, and panics trying to come back, just to end up in Wyoming. Again.

Thrice, he manages to reach the underworld. It's winter - Persephone is somewhere down there, but he doesn't want to see his father. He plays with Cerberus when he has some energy - the first two times he just cuddles up with the dog and sleeps a little.

The last time he goes to the Underworld, it's the last day before summer break - he still has not made any contact with his dad, he still doesn't know if he wants to join Luke, he still doesn't know if he wants to go back to CHB.

He goes back to his Mom's house with a hellhound puppy and makes kitten eyes until she lets it stays - if he trains and feeds him and whatnot.

He has dreams about Grover in a bride's dress. It freaks the hell out of him because there's a cyclops in it.

Percy is crossing the street with groceries when he sees a cyclops. He doesn't give the creature a chance to see him - he goes to his room and start packing - it's too dangerous for him, and he can't lose his Mom again.

He cuddles his Mom and the puppy - which he named Blackjack - and calls Chiron.

Chiron is sending Annabeth - apparently, something happened to the borders of the camp.

Percy decides to help, for Annabeth, for Grover, for the small kids at Cabin 9 and 11, and the newbies (there's one, Will Solace, who isn't even eleven yet and he has been there for a year).

He packs his colorful sweaters (rebelling, but in the opposite direction of his father’s aesthetic), put his puppy in a leash (it's bigger than a mastiff now, but all dogs are puppies) and wait for his best friend.

She meets him with an expression of someone who is announcing a funeral - Grover is lost in his searches for Pan.

Percy thinks the little tremor that shook his building it's a good enough hold in his powers, nothing is broken and no one is dead, so it's fine.

He hugs Annabeth and feels warm inside. Health classes covered changes in his body, but he didn't expect to be that quick. Annabeth is taller than him by at least five inches and much prettier.

He picks up his Warhammer and his ax (how does the mist occlude that? do everyone think he is doing cosplay?), throws a duffel bag in his shoulder, his loyal puppy beside him.

"Are you getting into the dark vibe, Corpse Breath?"

"Shut up Annie"

The camp is being attacked - they get a weird taxi thing, pay extra and are given three random locations in the mainland.

Percy doesn't forget the names. There's Agramonte, in Cuba; Okeechobee, in Florida; and Pic La Selle in Haiti.

CHB is being attacked when they get there - by bronze bulls no less. Percy goes to battle with a weapon in each hand, like a war god.

Clarisse does way more damage than him, bashing bull metal skulls left and right like a master. But he kills one of five and does damage to other two.

She claps him in the back - he is glad he has a sweater on, even if it is a horrible shade of brilliant orange.

Charles and him take the weapons to the Forge to correct any damage. Charles hugs him and then starts gushing about Silena.

Charles and Annabeth takes him to see the new Camp Director.

It's Tantalus.

Percy laughs so hard he almost falls down, and Dionysus looks bored - but Percy isn't dumb, he sees mirth in his eyes.

He wants so badly to do a smart comment. He wants to see if his powers can rip a ghost that his father reinstated. He wants to taunt Tantalus.

"What are you laughing about, metic?"

"Nothing, you remind me of someone."

But Percy fends off other questions, and sits at the Cabin 11 table obediently. He wants to startle that man so badly he won't ever sneer at Percy anymore.

He knows just the people for the job. They aren't in any way close, but they all up for mischief. His opportunity comes with the chariot race announced - Percy corners the Stoll Brothers.

"Let me race with you" He starts, and they look surprised by any emotion coming from him in their direction (Percy smiles were reserved for Annie and Grover and Luke and Alabaster and Ethan).

"I want to startle Tantalus and you want victory - I can give you any chariot, if you let me swarm the whole road with skeletons"

The Stolls look at one another, and mentally say something, before doing a random coin toss.

"I'm racing with you" Says Connor.

They mark a time to see the chariot in the next day. They take the whole Cabin 11 with them to prevent attention - Percy is not letting this game go.

Percy gets a chariot directly from the underworld, black obsidian (not Stygian iron, way too rare) and silver, with blue gems that glisten under the sun, a Helm with wings marking its front.

There are four horses pushing it - skeletal horses, incapable of feeling pain or thirst.

It's the first time Percy feels like he belongs - this is a competition, and he is going to win.

Connor and Travis have an array of contraptions and grenades and smoke bombs.

They arrive at the start line at last, for maximum impact. No one is expecting this - they're waiting for Hermes' old chariot, a rickety thing that should be scrap years ago, with any Pegasi they managed to gather in the stables.

They forgot something: Percy exists. It's normal, and Percy it's okay with it in this instance.

The Stymphalian Birds appear - and are countered by his skeletons hitting their spears and swords on their shields. None of them hit him, and the Cabin 11 arrives at first followed by a disgruntled Clarisse after she fought at least 20 skeletons.

Tantalus tries. He really tries to accuse Percy of cheating, but it's pointed out - with approval of Dionysus to boot - that the Demeter kids used their vines to place third and Pollux and Castor did the same to get the fifth spot - just behind the giant contraption that was the Hephaestus chariot.

Clarisse is not happy with the second spot and the silver laurels, but she claps him in the back anyway - Ares is the god of war, not bad sportsmanship.

The Hermes Cabin is in euphoria - Apollo, who placed last, after Aphrodite since they unleashed a dozen doves with a sleeping potion in their faces, it's doing all of the Cabin 11 chores for a month - and they are having a feast of the gods.

Just that night, Percy sacrifices a big pomegranate for Hades and one for Persephone - forgiveness, can you imagine?

He sacrifices to Hermes, as always, for taking the small kids. He sees the joy in their faces - and while Percy is a person reserved to his friends and now he is mostly stoic Perseus, son of Hades, forge gremlin, he always hugs the kids that have nightmares.

It's not what he wanted - it's weird to be touched. It's weirder to have someone want to be next to him. Percy is a cactus, he is prickly. He never smiles. He misses his mom - she would know what to do.

But the little kids trust him. Lou Ellen is unclaimed since the ending of last summer - Percy doesn't know if she has someone to return to.

Those kids at Cabin 11 deserve more then a couple of teens taking care of them. Those kids deserve better, they all deserve better.

There are seven-year-old children there. They barely know how to read. Percy teaches - Annabeth teaches history and myths and Greek, but is he who takes on math to the younger ones, the ones who barely know how to multiply.

He considers staying year-round. They all had Chiron - but it isn't enough. It isn't a family. It isn't. Percy is not their family either - he doesn't overestimate himself - but at least he cares. Not because of their godly blood, but because they are children.

He still hates touch. He is never without his sweaters and gloves. He never smiles at anyone that isn't Annie or Grover or Luke or Alabaster or Ethan.

These days, he only has Annie.

He misses Luke, and he wants to scoop all of these children and take them with him to Kronos, away from the gods. But for what? Another master to fight for?

Was Luke the one who poisoned Thalia? Would he do the same to Percy if Percy denied him?

A mission is issued to go after Golden Fleece - it's in the same place Grover is, it's what Annie and Percy agree on.

Percy is a calculating boy. He deals in numbers, in measures. He is completely oblivious when it comes to feelings and anything that's more subjective than an equation.

But she thinks he likes them. Her and Grover, and those little kids that follow him around sometimes.

She likes the way her yellow hair contrasts with his dark skin, the way his curls flop in his forehead. She likes the specks of green in his eyes. He is her best friend. It's not the love she has for Luke, but it's something akin to admiration.

Percy and Connor are chosen to go on the mission - and Tantalus tries and bullshits some reason for them to go alone, but Percy shakes his head.

"The oracle said, three people"

He is bullshitting them. Tantalus makes him take Clarisse, and Annabeth stays behind.

"I doubt you can get in the sea of monsters without crossing water, eromenoi"

Perseus laughs and laughs, and his eyes are dark as the night without moon. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his soft blue hoodie, and motions for Connor and Clarisse to follow.

Before he leaves, he kisses her cheek softly. It's going to be okay. He will bring Grover back.

He shadow travels the three on them for the closest location the Grey Sisters gave him. It’s difficult, even with a hellhound. He aims for Okeechobee and lands in Miami.

Percy needs to sleep for at least a day, so they use the time to reach their destiny by car. Connor is a very adept child of Hermes, and soon they’re on the road in a red old pickup.

“So Corpse Breath is the hammer, and you’re the polishing stone? Fitting” snorts Clarisse, and just like that, they are bonding.

Percy expects them to trade shitty childhood stories and stupid hobbies or badmouth their deadbeat godly parents, but that was another trip, with very different people.

Clarisse La Rue is sixteen. Her favorite weapon is a javelin or a spear, but she will always prefer hand to hand combat. She loves Led Zeppelin and thinks Silena’s white hijab is the cutest thing in the world. She speaks Spanish - a relief because Percy barely speaks English.

Connor Stoll is fifteen. He prefers gas bombs to grenades - and he does a mean Molotov. He did graffiti until he was twelve. He thinks the Gardner Sisters from the Demeter Cabin are both cute - but Pollux got hot during the winter.

That’s how Percy discovers bisexuality - in a stolen car with a giant hellhound, a girl who has arms larger than his thighs and drives like a grandma and a boy who is two seconds away from spontaneous combustion.

He thinks that explains Luke and Annabeth - but he doesn’t voice it.

Percy doesn’t smile to them for a long time - he knows not even muscular spasms are free of charge.

He stays stoic until they stop to sleep - and Connor has wings in the back of his underwear and its the most ridiculous thing ever.

They reach the city and wander. They do encounter someone - Hecate herself.

She says to Percy it is her last favor - and he knows she already left for Kronos. Luke’s drachma burns in his pocket. She opens a wall of stone - a passageway the Huntresses use sometimes.

“My son waits for you” his quest mates pretend not to hear it - and he pretends nothing is happening. At least Alabaster is okay.

They walk across the cave for what it feels like a day. He is almost sure Hecate has plans to kill them when they find the exit: In an island spa.

A girl comes and analyze them. She looks at them with a kind smile - but Percy knows smiles have prices.

They go meet with the owner: C.C. He doesn't recognize her, but Connor takes one look at those weird guinea pigs and tap Percy's hand twice.

It's a code: Danger.

They are patient. Clarisse is looking at the flimsy girls with their togas and golden braids - she is not going with them.

C.C. Apparently accepts that Clarisse is "more male than a female" like gender is something defined by dresses and makeup.

As soon as the girls are out of the room, Percy taps Clarisse's hand, and she runs her spear through C.C.'s belly. The woman bleeds ichor - but disappears in a cloud of golden sand.

They go through her things for money while Connor explains that he learned about her from Charles. Charles's first mission almost ended up with him as a guinea pig. At least now they know they are in the right place.

Percy takes all her money and their weapons back. He straps as many knives he can throw in his pants and belt: One can never have enough weapons.

They find some hoods and sneak out to the boats on the beach. Connor steals again. Percy hates water: But the Sea of Monsters is beyond Poseidon's direct control, and Percy is going to hole himself up until they get to the next island.

He vomits. He is so seasick, it's not even funny. He hates boats. He hates large bodies of water. Anything bigger than a pool, and he is out.

Clarisse thinks it's funny. She laughs at him - and weirdly, he smiles back a little. The daughter of Ares plays with Blackjack, and they bond.

They are not friends - but they would kill for each other. They find it weird they had no godly intervention from Olympus - but then, Percy remembers he is just a son of Hades, and the Olympians hate him.

He burns food to Hecate. He doesn't burn food to Hermes, who appears in everyone else's quests, but avoid his own son's.

None of them has enough hubris to try and listen to the sirens. Clarisse's fatal flaw is bloodlust and Connor's is arrogance - the idea he can do anything, steal anything, and he'll never be punished.

They don't hear anything. Their next stop is the Isle of Polyphemus.

This time around, Connor is Nobody, Clarisse sneaks under a sheep to save Grover, and Percy gets the Fleece. They try to escape through a passageway that Percy's powers say lead to Haiti, but the cyclops colapses it with a boulder.

Percy hates cyclops.

They shadowtravel. Percy isn't any better at it, and with Grover tagging along, it's pretty obvious what happens, even if he is wearing the Golden Fleece like a giant blanket of strenght.

They end up in Wyoming. Percy sleeps for a week: he is starting to flick, like a ghost, and the magical sheep skin can only help so much. In this week, apparently, they meet the Party Ponies.

Chiron takes Percy in his back to CHB with the Fleece, but his friends stay behind because the centaurs won't let them mount, and they can't keep up on feet.

Clarisse, Connor and Grover meet Luke, Ethan and Alabaster in their way to an airport. It goes badly, but no one dies. They tell him Ethan only has one eye now, and that Luke looks tired and mad.

Percy thinks joining Kronos might be a bad idea. But then, he goes back to Camp, save the tree, and things don't change. The kids are still kids, alone and sad.

Will Solace was claimed. He says he misses Cabin 11, and some of his brothers don't want him to talk to Percy anymore.

It hurts. They try and keep contact for the following week, but peer pressure pushes Will away. Percy doesn't blame him.

The tree spits Thalia, daughter of Poseidon. She has black hair with green accents, green eyes, uses heavy makeup, and looks like a "Hades spawn" should look.

Percy likes her. He has no need for being the leader, and he has Annie and Grover (and Luke, and Alabaster, and Ethan, he thinks). Annie and Luke love her, so she must be amazing. He tries.

Thalia doesn't like him. She hates Hades, the one who killed her. She doesn't trust him or the fact that he never touches anyone.

Perseus tells himself he doesn't care. And suddenly, Thalia goes from "could be a good friend" to "better stay away".

The Camp celebrates Thalia. He is the hero, he brought the Fleece back, he is also a child of the Big Three. But they hate him, just like the kids in school hate him for his skin colour.

Annie has no time for him. Grover goes back to his search. He doesn't think he is going to join Kronos, but the drachma is still in his pocket.

He goes back to his mother, and then, to Yancy.

This summer, he was the hero. But no matter what, he was still the son of Hades.

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today-only-happens-once · 5 years

Text

With Great Power - Chapter 7

Catch up or read on AO3 here!

Fic Summary: Thomas Sanders is just a regular social media personality. But when he gets bit by a spider during filming one of his YouTube videos, his whole life is about to turn upside down—whether he (or the aspects of his personality) want it to or not. Platonic LAMP/CALM + Character!Thomas. Spider-Man AU.

Chapter Word Count: 3646

Chapter warnings: cursing, threats, alcohol consumption (casual and not heavy), robbery mention, please let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Longer chapter with a hecking lot jammed into it, but I hope it’s an okay read. Was excited about this chapter, so I hope you enjoy the ride! Finished the edits around midnight last night and decided to wait until morning to post. Edited by yours truly. All mistakes are mine. Please let me know what ya think!

Tags: @captain-loki-xavier, @human-dictionary, @the-peculiar-bi-tch, @mining-pup, @band-be-boss-blog, @asexual-trashbag, @samathekittycat, @why-should-i-tell-youu2, @theobsessor1, @always3charcoaltea, @changeling-ash, @logical-princey, @princelogical, @crimsonshadow323, @flickering-raven, @smokeyrutilequartz, @dontbugmeimantisocial, @liz-a-bell, @black-king-white-knight, @soijusthavetoask, @analogical-mess, @marvelfangeek09, @dolphidragon, @thelowlysatsuma, @approximately12lbs-of-ducks, @vigilantvirgil

The internet personality sits on the couch in the living room of his apartment with his laptop balanced carefully on his thighs. It’s the middle of the afternoon the following day. He’d slept until almost noon, then scrolled through twitter and the news feed that was buzzing with the blurry, confusing security footage from the bank last night.

The spider logo had been visible from the way Thomas had wrapped the sweatshirt around his face, and that’s really all the public seemed to need to stir up excitement again. SPIDER-MAN MAKES A RETURN? had been the basis for nearly every headline Thomas had seen on the subject. News anchors puzzled over the bizarre footage of someone crawling on the ceiling. He’d watched a few interviews with some of the people that had gotten out safely—none of them claimed to know anything about who this “Spider-Man” might be.

Some threads on Twitter called him a “cryptid”. Others called him a “freak”. Law enforcement officials posted about how he should have left the job to professionals rather than go “vigilante”. Most called him a “hero”.

It left a weird, but not necessarily unpleasant, feeling in his stomach.

A few reports talked about the man Thomas had fought: Al Trevors, according to several news articles. He’d been a bus driver, apparently, with a wife and twin boys who were four years old. His wife is a lawyer, who had apparently advised him to not speak to the press. There had been no official statement from Trevors.

Eventually, Thomas stopped looking into the reaction to last night and instead turned his attention to the black cardstock rectangle he’d picked up. It sits beside him on the couch. On Thomas’s laptop, the cursor blinks lazily in the Google search bar.

“Thomas, are you sure this is a good idea?”

Virgil is standing in his usual space at the bottom of the stairs, his gaze narrowed at the host.

Thomas glances up at him, then back at the card. “No,” he says honestly.

Logan appears beside the staircase before Virgil can so much as open his mouth. He smooths his tie. “Virgil, you know as well as I do that Thomas buying into willful ignorance is likely only to be detrimental.”

Virgil shoots Logan a look. “Yeah, I know, Pocket Protector. I just…” he waves a hand at Thomas’s laptop. “I have a bad feeling about it. That’s all.”

Logan inclines his head. “Understandable, given the limited information we have available to us and your inclination to protect us.”

Thomas watches as Virgil glances quickly at the Logical Side. “Right…”

“However,” Logan continues, a little bit softer, “we have a responsibility. Knowing is always better than not knowing. And you know as well as I do, Virgil, that you would feel an equal level of distress—if not a more prolonged one as well—staying kept in the dark. Especially when there is a potential threat involved.”

Virgil rolls his eyes, but Thomas can see the hesitation of thought in the Anxious Side. He’s listening to Logan. “Knwoledge is our greatest weapon, huh?” he says dryly.

Logan nods once, his certainty undeterred by Virgil’s snark. “And our greatest defense.”

Virgil pauses. Then he groans, scrubbing a sweatshirt-covered hand across his eyes. “Fine, Thomas. Look it up.”

Thomas takes a breath as Logan crosses over towards the couch and sits beside him. Virgil sits on the other side. Thomas types “ekko” into the search bar and presses enter.

The first thing that pops up is a link to the YouTube video that Joan had been talking about. It’s titled “The First Warning”. The internet personality hovers his cursor over the link. The thumbnail is a blank, black screen.

Virgil doesn’t say anything, but Thomas doesn’t miss him flipping his hood up over his hair. It’s accompanying a tightening in Thomas’s stomach that makes him scroll further down the page instead of clicking on the link. He senses more than sees Logan glance disapprovingly at him, but the Logical Side doesn’t say anything.

The links below the video are a smattering of people talking about it: Twitter threads, pop culture websites that wrote articles about it, a talk show segment where they chat about it. Thomas wonders if maybe reading about it second hand would be enough.

“Thomas,” Logan says reproachfully. “While it would be better than nothing, a video is not capable of hurting you.”

“Beg to differ,” Virgil snaps.

“You’re stalling,” Logan replies flatly. “You cannot delay this forever.”

“Uh, he absolutely can.”

“Granted. But he shouldn’t.”

Thomas scrolls up quickly to the top of the page and clicks on the link before he can lose his nerve. Virgil growls and covers his face with his hands, peeking at the computer screen between his fingers. Thomas’s hands curl into loose fists against his legs. His foot taps quickly against the carpet.

The screen starts with static and a high-pitched whine. Flashes of news footage from riots, bombings, warzones. Static glitches.

It cuts out.

Thomas can just barely make out a silhouetted figure in the dark screen before a feminine voice starts speaking. “Pity, isn’t it?”

More footage, flashing so quickly that Thomas can’t decipher it all except that it’s all violent. It’s all bloody.

“It’s been long enough. It’s time for a new age to rise.”

The dark screen returns, but the figure steps forward into the minimal light. They’re in a body suit of some kind. Entirely white. It’s a sudden contrast to the dark background. The figure leans in closer to the camera.

“Some of you will see me as your hero. Others will fear me. If you’re the latter… I’m coming for you.”

It sounds like more than an empty threat. It sounds like a promise.

The video cuts out.

Thomas takes a breath and rakes a hand back through his hair. The video is playing back through his mind, trying to piece together the footage as if it might help make more sense. The words play back through Thomas’s mind. It’s time of a new age to rise. A new age of what? What did it mean that she’d be “coming for” the people who feared her?

“Virgil, are you all right?” Logan asks and Thomas almost jumps. He’d forgotten two of his Sides were sitting there beside him.

“Peachy,” Virgil growls back with the double vocalization.

“Thomas,” Logan says, “Please take a deep breath.”

The host closes his laptop and sets it on the coffee table in front of him as he sucks in some air and releases it slowly. He closes his eyes. Breathe with me, Virge, he wills. He takes in another breath and hears Virgil do the same.

Thomas opens his eyes and though Virgil still has his hood pulled up over his hair, the Anxious Side manages a faint twitch of his lips. A reassurance. Thomas nods once to him.

“What particularly was so alarming about that video?” Logan asks after a moment. “Though clearly intended to be threatening, it seems you have seen videos and movies that would warrant a stronger sense of fear than something such as that.”

Thomas swallows and clears his throat. “Virge?” He glances at Virgil on the other side of him.

“I don’t know.” The Anxious Side huffs a little, tugging on the strings of his hoodie. “Something about it just seemed… more real than a horror movie. Like she meant what she was saying, I guess.”

Logan quirks an eyebrow. “Hm. I see.” He eyes Thomas’s closed laptop before speaking again. “Under usual circumstances, I would remark how it seemed a bit over the top in terms of its dramatics. The effects and spliced footage are clearly meant to be a fear tactic with seeming little meaningful substance upon which to base that fear.”

“Aren’t you kind of commenting on that now—”

“However,” Logan continues, interrupting Thomas, “it’s connection to recent events makes me less inclined to dismiss it so easily. A fear tactic? Absolutely. But one so easily dismissed? Perhaps not.”

Thomas rubs the back of his neck, glancing between Logan and Virgil. “So what now?”

There wasn’t anything in the video that suggested a location—either for where Ekko is, or where she’d be next. Thomas didn’t really have another plan of action, and it makes his fingers twitch with a surprising restlessness. It doesn’t help that Ekko’s line about being seen as a hero keeps replaying in his mind in a way that tightens his chest a little with discomfort.

“Well,” Logan says as he adjusts the frame of his glasses, “there are several questions left unanswered, it seems. The first being what connection, if any, does Ekko have to the attempted robbery last night? The video suggests some kind of wide-scale plan, perhaps even global given the use of news footage from around the world. So what business would someone like Ekko have in Gainesville, Florida?”

That did seem unusual, Thomas has to admit. He picks up the cardstock rectangle beside his leg on the couch, rubbing his thumb over the neat white print. E K K O.

“Speaking of wide-scale plan,” Virgil adds, sounding a bit more calm but no less worried than a moment ago, “the next question is… assuming that video isn’t just some fear-inducing media stunt, what is Ekko planning?”

Thomas sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. “Maybe that’s all it really is,” he says. “Maybe she’s just trying to get attention.” He doesn’t quite believe himself, and he sees Logan and Virgil exchange a silent glance. Neither of them says anything, but the quiet that lingers in the apartment is quickly interrupted by Thomas’s ringtone.

It’s Valerie.

“Hey, Valerie,” Thomas says, hoping his voice sounds brighter than he thinks it does. In his peripheral, Thomas sees both Logan and Virgil sink out.

“Hey, Thomas!” The familiar sound of his friend’s voice helps alleviate some of the tension in his shoulders. “I was talking to Joan, Lee, and Terrence and we were thinking of having a game night since everybody’s gonna be in town. Do you wanna join?”

Thomas smiles with a sudden relief. “Sounds awesome.”

…

“Did you just throw a blue shell, Talyn?! Shit. No, no, no—”

Thomas laughs as he watches his friends play Mario Kart. Joan’s corner of the screen fills with a bright blue light. A cart slams into them as it passes, sending Joan’s cart careening off the edge of the map. Thomas laughs even harder as Terrence’s square announces his victory. Joan curses again, managing to squeak past the finish line in 6th place.

“Hey, thanks, Talyn,” Terrence comments with an amused, smug smile. Talyn gives him a small salute, snorting with laughter a moment later at the look Joan throws their way.

Thomas smiles and leans back into the couch, picking up his glass of wine and taking a small sip. Turns out, a lot of Thomas’s friends had been free tonight. Lee and Mary Lee came, as did Valerie, Joan, Talyn, Camden, Terrence, and Kenny. It felt like it had been forever since he’d last hung out with his friends without it being with the intention of working on a video. Amicable chatter and friendly argument about the best character to main on Mario Kart fills the room with a warmth and comfort that is interrupted briefly by the arrival of pizza.

Mary Lee announces a food break, causing everyone who was getting ready for another round to set their controllers down as they all break into the various kinds of pizza. It was a reprieve that the internet personality had welcomed with open arms. In fact, Thomas has almost forgotten about the events of the past 24 hours when Kenny speaks up.

“So did you guys hear about that bank last night?”

Thomas shovels a bite of pizza into his mouth to avoid having to answer. Don’t say anything, Thomas, Virgil growls in his mind. Valerie points at Kenny. “Yes! Did you see the security footage?”’

“It’s a little hard to believe it wasn’t doctored somehow,” Lee chimes in as he reaches for another piece. “They swear it isn’t, though. And some of the eyewitness accounts verified that the guy was freaking climbing on the ceiling.”

“I saw this thread on Reddit,” Camden chimes in casually, reaching for a napkin, “arguing about whether or not he should count as a ‘hero’.”

Thomas glances at him. “What’d they decide?”

Camden’s mouth quirks. “It’s Reddit. You really think they arrived at any organized consensus?”

“I think it’s a little weird that he keeps covering his face,” Mary Lee cuts in, then grimaces. “If they are a he. It’s the pronoun that little kid and the hostages were using, but I probably shouldn’t assume that.” She opens a can of Coke and takes a long swallow.

“I don’t totally get why they’re hiding their identity,” Valerie adds. “I mean, both times we’ve seen them, they’ve had half their face covered. Unless they’re doing something wrong—which I don’t think they are—why hide?”

Thomas opens his mouth, but Talyn jumps in before he has a chance to reply. Part of him is grateful.

“I mean, not everybody thinks they’re doing the right thing.” Talyn sets their slice down on the paper plate in their lap. “Besides, if they can climb on the ceiling like that, there’s totally people that would try to capture them and run experiments or some shit.”

Thomas swallows. He reaches for another slice of pizza to avoid looking at any of them, even though the sudden churning in his stomach keeps him from actually taking a bite out of it.

“Talyn’s right,” Kenny says. “Plus, if they’re trying to stop criminals, maybe they’re trying to protect their family too. So bad guys can’t use their loves ones against them.”

“Bad guys?” Lee asks, more curious that argumentative. “So you think they’re a hero?”

Kenny lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, I think so. You guys don’t?”

Thomas doesn’t hear their answers, his thoughts racing ahead of him. Kenny had been right, of course. So had Talyn. Thomas hiding his face had been a mixture of both reasons, but sitting here in a room full of his friends reminds him all over again just how much had changed. How much risk is involved in what he did last night. He hadn’t just been risking his safety, he’d been risking all of theirs, too. After all, the man had reached for the sweatshirt he’d tied haphazardly around his face, and if Thomas had been just a little bit slower on his reflex…

His family would be at risk. Everybody in this room would be at risk. Everybody Thomas ever cared about.

And if he was really going to try to figure out what the whole Ekko business was about… well, that really only put them in more danger.

“Thomas? Joan?” Valerie asks, yanking Thomas abruptly from his thoughts. “What do you think?”

Thomas takes another sip of wine and shrugs, despite his racing heartbeat. He quirks an eyebrow at Joan, willing them to answer first.

Joan adjusts the beanie on their head. “I think it’s probably too early to tell. I mean, so far it seems like he’s tried to help people in need at risk to himself. Most people would probably classify that as a hero, but it depends on what you mean by the word in the first place.”

“Classic Ravenclaw answer,” Lee chimes in lightly, causing everyone to smile.

Joan laughs a little, then grabs the nearest controller. “All right,” they say. “So who am I gonna beat at Rainbow Road?”

“Oh, you’re on, Joan,” Camden announces, grabbing his back from the floor. “Let’s go.”

“Hold on, I’m still eating pizza!”

“Eat fast, Terrence. Rainbow Road waits for nobody.”

Thomas smiles and shakes his head, gathering up the discarded paper plates and napkins. He’s silently grateful none of them remembered that Thomas never answered the question.

…

It’s nearly two in the morning when all four of his main Sides show up at the same time, startling Thomas out of his almost-asleep state. The host groans.

“Really, guys?” he grumbles, but reaches over to the nightstand and flips on the lamp light.

“Apologies, Thomas,” Logan says from his position at the foot of Thomas’s bed. “I thought it would be best to let you rest and come to you with this idea in the morning, but Roman was rather insistent.”

Thomas rubs at his eyes and sits up. “What idea?”

“Roman and I were discussing potential strategies for dealing with some of Virgil’s concerns, and the… four of us—” Thomas frowns at the odd hesitation—“came up with a solution.”

“Oh,” Thomas says, his brow pulling together. “Um… cool. What’s the idea?”

Roman is practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “A suit!”

Thomas’s confusion only deepens. “A suit?”

Virgil rolls his eyes, but it’s Logan that speaks up. “Of a sort. Not the type of suit you’re thinking, Thomas, but rather a suit designed with your specific superhuman abilities in mind that will maximize your potential while maintaining a certain level of identity protection.”

Thomas blinks a few times, then looks quizzically at Virgil. “Why?”

Virgil ducks his head a little and rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I guess…. Your friends talking earlier got me—us—thinking about how close you’d been last night for your identity getting found out. Logan agreed that we needed something better than a sweatshirt.”

“So I then consulted with Roman,” Logan chimes in, “to see what might work best.”

Roman smiles. “And we came up with a little design idea.” Roman flicks his hand towards Thomas, who gets a sudden, clear picture in his head. A full body suit. Red and blue fabric, dark-purple-nearly-black stitching. A spider silhouette stretching along his torso.

“The spider was my idea,” Patton chimes in.

Thomas looks at Patton, disbelieving. “You wanted to add a spider? I mean, don’t get me wrong, Patton. I love it. But… I would’ve thought you’d be the last person to want a spider added onto the suit.”

Patton’s mouth tugs into a small, fond smile. “Spiders do freak me out, kiddo. But… I thought it’d be a nice tribute to the first time you helped someone with your new abilities. A reminder of the good you can do.” Mikey babbling about the Ninja Turtles flickers through Thomas’s mind, doubtlessly Patton’s doing. It makes the host’s chest swell.

“It’s perfect,” Thomas says honestly.

“After consulting with Virgil,” Logan adds, “I believe I have a fabric in mind that should be able to be a useful level of durable without being too restrictive in weight or flexibility.”

Thomas’s mind is reeling with the onslaught of ideas. “Wow. You guys all worked together on this?”

Roman is rotating the image around in his mind, giving Thomas a sharpening view of each angle on the suit. He can feel Roman’s excitement thrumming with a sudden burst of creative energy. Virgil seems quieter than he’d been previously, and when Thomas looks at him, he can see the calmer look in his eyes. Patton still has that small, happy smile.

And Logan… well, Logan has something bright and electric simmering just beneath his stoic exterior. He looks invigorated, and Thomas gets the feeling there’s something else that Logan hasn’t told him about yet.

“Indeed,” Roman says in reply to Thomas’s question. “The general aesthetic was my doing, but we each had a hand in its overall design.”

Thomas sees Virgil glance over to Logan. “There’s… one more thing about the suit,” he prompts gently.

Logan flicks his hand towards Thomas and the image in his mind zooms to focus in on the wrist of the suit, breaking it open almost like a blueprint. The host closes his eyes to focus on the schematic that Logan has sketched out in his brain. Logan’s voice floats through his thoughts, providing an explanation.

“I was considering methods for which to solve Virgil’s proposed predicament from last night regarding if you had been seen prior to reaching an acceptable proximity to Al Trevors. I eventually arrived at this concept.”

“I call them Web Shooters,” Patton chimes in brightly. “Y’know, like a spider web?”

“Indeed,” Logan says. “Although spider webs are generally lightweight and easy to dismantle, so such a term may be a bit misleading. Regardless of what you call them, I think we could construct a device that would allow you to essentially project a strong adhesive substance from your wrist or hand when activated. It could be used as a rope to retrieve things, or perhaps even to use to your advantage in terms of travel.”

Roman’s voice jumps in. “You could be like freaking Tarzan.”

Logan’s voice hums, unamused. “The point is, I see several uses for this kind of device, and I think it’s worth developing.” Thomas’s mind is suddenly overtaken with a string of chemical equations running through his mind. “I’ve already begun developing a formula, although I could use a refresher given how long it has been since your experience as a chemical engineer.”

“Oh!” Patton’s voice again. Thomas opens his eyes, his bedroom and Sides coming back into focus even as Logan continues to scroll the chemical equations through his mind. “Why don’t you see if Dr. Washington could help? Remember her, Thomas?”

Thomas does. She’d been one of Thomas’s favorite professors. “It’s been a while, but I can email her.”

Patton’s grinning as Thomas reaches for his computer. “Perfect! We’ll leave ya to it, kiddo.”

When Thomas looks up again from his computer screen, all of them have sunk out. They’re excited energy radiates through his mind. He has a feeling he won’t be getting back to sleep any time soon.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #platonic lamp/calm #sanders sides au #sanders sides au fanfiction #spider-man au #with great power #wgp fic #tw cursing #tw alcohol #tw violence mention #pretty excited about this chapter #so i hope you all enjoyed it!

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lianabrooks · 4 years

Text

How To Write A Query Letter

QUERY(n) – the letter a hopeful author sends to an agent or editor with the express wish of getting the manuscript off their desk and onto someone else’s publication schedule.The query is an essential part of the publication process even for Indie Authors, it’s also one of the more misunderstood parts of publishing.

What The Query Is Not: – a resume – a summary – a synopsis – a snippet – a tell-all – a letter of desperate pleading

What The Query Is: – a short teaser – a paragraph about genre and length – a bio if you have one

Nothing more and nothing less.Let’s go over the parts…

THE BLURB-

is exactly what it sounds like. It’s the back-of-book blurb that entices the reader (in this case an agent) to read. If you are an Indie Author you better perfect your blurb writing skills because this is what will make or break you. Authors who go with a press have a professional helping write the blur, indie authors only get one shot with a reader. So learn how to do it right.Start by looking at blurbs for your genre.

SCIENCE FICTION – CONVERGENCE POINT

Agent Samantha Rose has already died once…and knows the exact date she’ll die again.

Having taken down a terrorist organization bent on traveling through time to overthrow the government, Sam figured she was done dealing with the unbelievable. Finally out of backwater Alabama, she’s the senior agent in a Florida district, and her life is back on track.

Until a scientist is found dead. And then an eco-terrorist. And then a clone of herself…again.

As the pieces start to fall together, they paint a picture that seems to defy everything we know about time and physics. But the bodies are all too real, and by partnering up with Agent MacKenzie once more, they might just figure out what’s going on. And when.

ROMANCE – ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS A WEREWOLF

Del hates Christmas. As a child, she spent too many Decembers on the streets after her parents abandoned her. As an adult, the enforced family focus, the clients who see the holidays as an excuse to get gropey, and the mistletoe her well-meaning colleague Maureen hung over her work desk just seals the deal: December sucks.

If only it could stay Halloween for a couple of months instead. Del loves the excuse to slay monsters, the spooky atmosphere—and of course, the werewolves. Because everyone knows werewolves make the best lovers… Pity they’re not real.

When Maureen conjures up a list of eligible bachelors for the holidays and insists Del take her pick, Del does the only reasonable thing: she lies. And when nosy office Grinch Rafael Kane asks who the lucky fellow is, Del announces it to the whole office: she’s getting a dog.

So now, the first item on Del’s holiday to-do list? Find a dog. Fast. Because if she doesn’t, nothing will protect her from Maureen’s list of Miami bachelor rejects.

A charming, sensual romance for everyone who believes in found families, happily ever after—and werewolves.

FANTASY – HOW NOT TO ACQUIRE A CASTLE by Amy Laurens

Evil Overlord in training? Check.

Successfully hidden the true depths of her powers for four years so no one kills her? Check.

Graduating at the top of her class from the Evil Overlord Academy so she can acquire her castle? …Uncertain. And Mercury loathes uncertainty.

If that smarmy git Deviran beats her for first place, Mercury needs to rethink her plans. Because the Tumul Tuos castle belongs to her. No matter what it takes to convince everyone else.

Comic fantasy for fans of Terry Pratchett that will leave you laughing, crying—and questioning everything you ever thought you knew about ferrets.

WHAT DO YOU SEE?

All of these are 2-3 paragraphs that hint at what happens in the opening chapters of the book.The blurb doesn’t tell you everything. It doesn’t give away the ending. It sets the tone, names at least the main character, and sets the opening stakes of the book. It’s a teaser, nothing more.The focus shifts depending on the genre.

For SF crime fiction like CONVERGENCE POINT the focus is on the murder.

In romance you focus on the relationships.

In fantasy you focus on the quest.

Your genre dictates word choice and framing.

If you don’t know where in the bookstore your book would go, it’s not ready for a query letter.

Read books in several genres.

Read your book again.

Figure out what your target audience looks like and market to the genre they buy in.If you aren’t sure how a query should read, go to the nearest bookstore and read the backs of all the books in your genre to get the cadence.

Then read through the backlog of QUERY SHARK and see how these things get edited.

THE STATS

– Again, fairly self-explanatory. When the agent or editor reads the query and likes the blurb they need to know the genre and length. If you have comp titles, throw those in too.A good stats paragraph would be something like “ARTIFICIAL CONDITIONS is a science fiction novel complete at 90,000 words that will appeal to fans of Ann Leckie’s ANCILLARY JUSTICE.” That’s all you need.What the agents are really looking for here is the word count (not the page count). You need to know what’s expected for the genre you are querying in. 500 – 1000 ~ Picture Books 1,000 – 10,000 ~ Short Story

10,000 – 30,000 ~ Novella For Genre Fiction 20,000 – 55,000 ~ Middle Grade

40,000 – 60,000 ~ Upper Middle Grade 55,000 – 80,000 ~ Young Adult

75,000 – 100,000 ~ Standard Genre Fiction (thriller, mystery, fantasy, sci-fi, UF, ect)

85,000 – 120,000 ~ Epic Fantasy

There’s obviously some overlap in word count and readership, but know who wants what.A ‘zine isn’t looking for a novel, they want your short stories.

A small press putting out a call for novellas wants more than 5,000 words and less than 50,000.A traditional publisher does not want an epic fantasy that’s 50,000 words, they want double that.Write the story the way you want to tell it and then send it to the right market for the length.

THE BIO

This is optional for new writers.

Go ahead and mention past awards if you have them, writing groups if you belong to a good one that puts on conventions, or anything that will tie into the novel.“I live in South Florida and have a degrees in literature and computer engineering.”

Once you have publication credits, you can post them, but you really do not need them. Good writing is good writing, published or not.

DO NOT – tell the agent how much your mom loved the book, how you have always dreamed about being a published author, how you know in your heart this will make you a millionaire. None of that matters. This is a business deal, you are selling a book not trying to find a soulmate.

GENERAL ADVICE –

When you write the query keep in mind that a lot of agents are going to read on their phones, grab their interest first, talk about yourself last.

Dear Agent, BLURB STATS BIO Sincerely,

Your Name

DO: – double-check the submission guidelines before sending – have your book finished, edited, and polished before querying – have a query packet ready – have a new project to work on – remember that rejection means you tried – handle the rejection like a pro – remember rejection is part of the road to success, not failure

DON’T: – respond to rejections – get angry because no one loves your books – vent in public places about a bad rejection – pay someone to send a query – pay anyone to publish your book (in traditional publishing the money goes to the author… do not pay reading fees, editing fees, or publication fees unless you are an indie author) – query the same book after a rejection to the same agent – give up because the book isn’t getting picked up

After that… your best bet is to have a great book. A good query can’t do anything if you’re turning in bad pages. Make sure you run them through a local writers group, past a beta reader, or find an online critique group like CritiqueCircle.com (which is where I started ages ago).

You never want to send out a manuscript without someone else reading it first. You need a battle buddy in the query trenches, and you also need someone to look at the book and tell you when you’ve spent sixteen pages too many describing fruit cake.

Other Resources For Querying Authors: #MSWL – this Twitter hashtag is a good place to find what literary agents are looking for. Don’t respond on Twitter. This is just the catalog you can browse.

Query Tracker

– a website for keeping track of queries, agents, and finding out response times. It’s a little dated but mostly accurate.

Manuscript Wish List

– a website where you can browse agents. It leans heavily towards newer agents and YA, but it’s an excellent resource overall.

Agent Query

– a website that lets you sort agents by genre repped, what kind of query they like, ect – this is my favorite website for agent hunting.

Writer Beware

– does something sound fishy? Got a gut feeling the agent asking for your book is more a scam? Check Writer Beware.

Originally published on www.LianaBrooks.com

#Liana Brooks #Amy Laurens #How Not To Acquire A Castle #All I Want For Christmas Is A Werewolf #query #publishing #how to write a query #writeblr

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cevanstorytime · 5 years

Text

America’s Sass

Brie just moved outside of Boston and a handsome stranger helps her catch her dog when he gets loose.

Chapter 1

I had just accepted a promotion for work and moved to a small town outside of Boston. I was getting settled into my new apartment, unpacking boxes while my distraught dog Harry stared at me with giant sad eyes. He followed me from room to room, eyeing me suspiciously, unsure of what was happening. Occasionally, letting out the most pitiful cry, he would look straight into my soul and make me question whether moving us here was the right idea.

I pushed away the box I was unpacking and picked up my phone. I googled “dog parks near me” and a few popped up. One in particular caught my eye. It was a dog beach at a lake that was about 15 minutes away, and from the pictures posted, looked mostly deserted. I hoped this was still the case as Harry was not fond of strangers or other dogs. My new neighbors probably already thought he was possessed. We couldn’t take a walk through the neighborhood without terrorizing joggers, children, and retirees doing yard work. I put the address in waze, put Harry’s harness on, and headed out the door.

Arriving at the lake we found no other cars in the parking lot. Perfect. Except now my murderino self was thinking of all the ways we were going to get killed. At least with Harry’s antisocial behavior nobody could sneak up on us. He was always on high alert and he hated people, so I had my own personal alarm system.

There was no fence, so I kept him on his retractable leash, which I used for long walks so he could wander around without me having to go everywhere he went. I admit I’m lazy. Harry had never seen a beach before, or a large body of water, so his anxiety was in high gear. Every twig that snapped, or tree blowing in the wind caused him to jump and survey the surrounding area. We had wandered a little down the beach when a boat came barreling through the water, the engine startling Harry. Before I knew it, he bolted, his leash snapping out of my hand. “FUCK!” I yelled out loud. Neither he nor I knew the area. I had no idea where he would run too and thoughts of never finding him flooded through my mind. I fought back tears as I took off in the direction he ran, yelling his name and some choice words the whole time. I saw a flash of his tail on the trail ahead of me and picked up speed. I followed him around a corner and about ran over a man crouched down in the middle of the path His back was to me and I could hear him talking. I saw the back half of a dog, who was not Harry, sticking out from in front of him, tail wagging.

“Shit. Fuck. I’m sorry!” I said as I tried to go around him. He turned towards me while still crouched down, Harry sitting shaking in front of him. “OH MY GOD HARRY! Jesus Christ” I ran towards them and picked up his leash, then doubled over winded, attempting to catch my breath. “Thank you so much for stopping him.” I attempted to get out while I wheezed, still trying to catch my breath. “He got spooked by the boat,” I stood and pointed to the lake. “I thought I was never going to see him again. We just moved here, he doesn’t know where the hell we are…” My eyes started to water and I felt like an idiot, but I had never been so relieved.

“Aww, it’s no big deal. He’s sweet.” I looked at the man for the first time as he stood up. Harry stuck to his feet. The man in front of me was none other than Chris Evans, and I suddenly couldn’t remember how to speak English. “His name’s Harry?”

Is it? I don’t remember. Oh yes! “Yes!” I said a little too loudly. He chuckled as I shook my head, my face starting to feel like it was on fire. “Yes, I’m sorry. That’s Harry, I’m Brie.” I stuck my hand out to shake his.

“I’m Chris, this is Dodger.” He smiled and gave me the most perfect hand shake I have every received. We stared at each other for a moment before he broke the very awkward silence. “So, you’re new here?”

Dodger had come over to greet me, so I bent down and let him smell my hand. “Yeah. Yeah, I just moved here for work. That guy’s not too happy about it so I thought I’d find a park to make him feel better. I found this one, and it looked pretty empty.” I was rambling but I couldn’t stop myself. “He’s normally not good with strangers and other dogs… Seems to like you though.” Harry had stood on his back paws and was begging Chris to pick him up. “Thank god you guys were here. I was having these visions of never finding him…I.. he’s so fast.” I said shaking my head, pictures of lost posters floating through my mind.

“He was fast! He tore around that corner like his ass was on fire!” we chuckled as I wiped a rouge tear from my eye. Chris had picked him up and was now scratching behind his ear and Harry licked all over his face. I was making friends with Dodger and rubbing his belly when Chris began to speak again. “Looks like you’ve made a friend.” he nodded towards Dodger who was now licking my hand.

“Yeah! My first one here!” Dodger looked up and me and licked my chin as I spoke.

“What do you do for work?” Chris asked as he placed Harry gently back on the ground.

“Uh, I’m a regional manager for a therapy company. Just got promoted… I moved here from Florida.”

“Florida?” he asked sounding interested. I smiled and nodded. “That’s a big change. No Disney up here for one.”

“I know. I’m going into withdrawal already.” He smiled. “I lived like 30 minutes from Disney so my friends and I all had annual passes. Spent a lot of time there. I worked there for a long time actually.”

“Oh yeah?! That must have been fun. My family and I are huge Disney people. We try to go a lot, but my work schedule can be…difficult.” I nodded. “Did you get to see Galaxy’s Edge yet?”

“Oh yes. And its…it’s awesome. Like, way better than anything I imagined.” I smiled at the memories of my friends and I having drinks in the cantina and piloting the Millennium Falcon.

“Oh Man! I’m not surprised.” He stared at me with his crystal blue eyes, and I seemed to get lost for a moment. We started speaking at the same time, Chris saying “do you guys want to walk with us?” and I started to say Harry and I should be leaving. I smiled and tried to figure out if he had really just asked if we wanted to join them for a walk. “I’m sorry, you probably have a lot to do…I just thought, since they were getting along so well…Maybe they could be buddies.”

“Yeah! No, I mean we’re not busy, just unpacking shit, but that can wait. We’d love to walk with you guys! Yeah! I hope he doesn’t flip out soon when he realizes he doesn’t know you.” Chris let out a loud Ha! “Although, maybe you’re his thunder buddy now…he’s bonded with you through his fear.” I giggled uneasily.

“How could I not be his buddy? Look at that face.” He bent down to pet Harry again, who was actually walking well next to Dodger. Almost like they’d been buddies forever. “Their socks match too.” Harry and Dodger both had white front feet, looking like they were wearing little socks. It was adorable.

“They do! Very fashionable fellows.” I side eyed Chris, making sure he was really here, and not some fear induced hallucination. “Sooo, do you come here often?” The corner of Chris’s mouth shot up in a lopsided smile.

“Sometimes.” He turned and faced me. “Once or twice a week. We come here because there’s never anyone here…usually.” My face, which had just gone back to it’s normal color, flushed red again. “This is nice though. I don’t usually meet new people.” His eyes shot down to the ground. “It can be difficult”.

“I’m sure.” I said quietly. His head whipped towards me and he looked me over. I felt naked. “I… I may have seen a few of your movies.” I made an apologetic face and made myself small. “I don’t know anyone here, but your secret is safe with me. I’m not…I won’t tell anyone that you come here. It must be hard to find some solitude.”

“Thanks.” He said as he let out a breath. “It comes with the job I guess.”

“That sucks though.” I added solemnly.

He shrugged and stood up taller. “So you don’t know anyone here?” Now he looked at me sadly. I shook my head and shrugged.

“Not yet. I’ve only been here a few days. This is setting the bar pretty high though. I feel like everyone I meet from here on out is at a severe disadvantage.”

Chris let out a loud laugh as his hand shot to his chest. I’d seen him do this a lot in interviews, but I’m not going to tell him that. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Yes, well, Dodger is amazing. Nobody could possibly live up to that.” I chuckled as Chris let out another laugh.

“He is!” He smiled widely at me and appeared to be considering something. “I’m meeting up with some friends tonight at a bar, it’s trivia night. My teams a little short…How good are you at trivia?”

“Uh, not to brag, but I’m good. Especially with music.” I squinted my eyes and cocked my head. “Is it themed or general?”

“General. Would you care to join?”

I thought for a moment, Is Chris fucking Evans inviting me to trivia night? Uh, yes, he is. And there’s no way I’m not going to go. “I’m in. I suck at sports though so you’re on your own for that one.”

He waved his hand and made a pssh noise. “I’ve got that one no problem.” I nodded slowly. We had made our way back to the parking lot and Chris had bent down to give Harry one last goodbye. I patted Dodger and got a goodbye lick and told him I hoped we would see each other again soon. Chris stood and watched me say goodbye to his boy. “Alright. Tonight then, trivia starts at 9. We get there around 8 usually to have a few pregame drinks. I can text you the address if you want.”

“That would be great!” He pulled his phone out and asked for my number and last name. My phone started playing Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen as my face flushed red again. “Is that you?” I turned the screen towards him.

He nodded smiling. “That’s a great ring tone.”

“Thanks!” I grinned back.

“You’re welcome. I’m sending the address right now.” My text alert sounded as he put his phone away. “So I’ll see you tonight?”

“8 o’clock. I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

I watched him for a minute before realizing the silence was weird. “Ok. Bye.” I waved and patted Dodger one more time. “See you tonight.”

“See you tonight.” He waved goodbye and watched as Harry and I got in the car and pulled away, waving again as we pulled out of sight. I looked at Harry in the rearview mirror, who was laying down in the back seat. He looked at me and appeared to smile. “I know! What the fuck?! Was that real?!” He sighed and laid his head down. If I hadn’t known better I would have sworn he rolled his eyes at me as well.

#chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #America's Sass #Captain America #Avengers #americassass

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tastefullynefarious · 5 years

Text

Torment never looked so goddamn fine

Chapter 3 / 10 - Kansas - Carry On Wayward Son

Words: 3,387

Warnings: Stuff!, you can kinda see what to expect from the moodboard lol, SMUT!, emotions i think?, probably typos.

I was going for something, not sure how well it translated from my head but hope ya’ll enjoy!

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Masquerading as a man with a reason

My charade is the event of the season

And if I claim to be a wise man, it surely means that I don't know

On a stormy sea of moving emotion

Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean

I set a course for winds of fortune, but I hear the voices say

Carry on my wayward son

For there'll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don't you cry no more

Billy had no idea if she'd still be there, but he didn't know where else to go, didn't have where else to go. In hindsight, it hadn't been his initial choice. He tried the quarry first but it was buzzing with horny teens basking in the late afternoon sun. He even went to stumble into the forest hoping for some alone and quiet, but he almost bumped into the chief of police, a trail a yellow flags in his wake. Billy didn't know if he had the energy to explain his bloody face nor to find out what was the cop doing. So he just hopped back into his car and drove aimlessly for a while, warm blood seeping from above his right eye. Passing by Motel 6 had been nothing more than pure coincidence. Sandy had been a good fuck, a great one even, but she was not his friend and definitely not his savior.

Despite his little rant, as soon as he saw the sign he turned the steering wheel and entered the parking lot almost mechanically. He passed the rooms on the ground floor, 01 to 10, in a daze. Would she still be there? Would she even open the door if she was? He went up the metal stairs and counted the doors, 11, 12 and finally 13, the world slightly spinning, or maybe it was just his pounding head wound. She was still a stranger despite their little midnight encounter a few days prior, she owed him nothing. If she was behind that door, she would send him away. He was not her problem, not her responsibility. Not a charity case.

The door flung open before he beat down this pride enough to knock.

"Well shit. Come on in." It was all she said as she stepped aside and he didn't question her sanity for letting him follow. Even in his state, blinking briskly to keep the blood out of his eye, it was hard not to notice she was only wearing an almost sheer bathrobe, her lean legs in full view.

She guided him to sit on the edge of the bed, gathering the notes and pages scattered on the mattress with some urgency before coming back with a first aid kit and began checking on his bleeding temple. Her cool fingers were already doing wonders for his headache. He relaxed into her touch, hands moving his head to find better angles with a steadiness and dexterity that only came from experience. His eyes never left her, the question of what was her story resurfacing like an undertone in the storm of thoughts that was raging in his mind.

"It's not that bad, head cuts just tend to bleed a lot." It was strange, the way all his wounds seemed to hurt less when she was the one treating them, her hands not particularly light as she whipped the blood away. And stranger still that she seemed to be able to find all the sore spots that weren't even visible, pressing her fingers to his side to see if his ribs were cracked. She even poked at his knee, an old surfing accident that didn't usually bother him, but a weak spot that his father sometimes exploited, knowingly or not. "Nothing's broken, but you should really watch yourself for a while. Stay off that leg as much as possible."

"Doesn't hurt much..." It was more of an afterthought. He knew the pain of broken bones well and that was not it. But she gave him a half smile, her eyes averting from his fast. His hands balled into fists at his side, anger running hot beneath his skin. He hated it, the pity, the walking on eggshells around him like he was one step away from breaking. He loathed himself even more because it was very close to the truth. But Sandy didn't seem to notice his fury, or chose to ignore it completely, picking up his left hand instead. Her brows furrowed as she examined the fast forming bruises on his knuckles, his fingers loosening at the unexpected touch.

"You should take a shower first. Then I'll bandage this up." He opened his mouth, but she was faster. "No complains, Billy! Get in that shower."

"You just want me naked." She faked an overly dramatic gasp, hand brought to her gaping mouth and wide doe-like eyes, but she was already moving backwards towards the door Billy assumed was the bathroom.

"Even if you discovered my wicked plan to get in your pants, you're not getting out of this, mister." There was a deafening silence left behind her as she disappeared from view and it rubbed Billy wrong. He shouldn't have come! Why did he? His usual routine would have been to seek an abandoned place where he could lick his wounds in solitude. So what brought him to this stranger's room? Sure, a part of him had been certain that he would only find an empty space, no traced left behind the mystery Florida girl named Sandy. But she had been still in town, still at the cheap motel, so what was he still doing there, sitting on her bed, waiting for her to dress his wounds for him? The damage was not even that bad this time around, the pain having mostly subsided already. He was left… numb, an endless black void inside of him screaming to be filled with something, anything, else.

Billy got up from the bed faster than he intended to, stumbling on the short distance to the bathroom. She was slightly bent over to reach the faucets, adjusting the water temperature. "Fucking finally. Get it."

Sandy sauntered towards the spot just past the doorway where he seemed to have caught roots. His eyes were dark, face set in all hard lines and jaw clenching. Paired with all the bruises and overall scuffed up appearance, he looked dangerous, the bad boy mothers warned their daughters about, the hungry wolf stalking the pen. The corners of her lips curled in a playful smirk, hands already tugging at his shirt. She pulled it over his head, her powers alerting her of the strain in his shoulders so she turned his dial lower. It was a risk, too much and he would start noticing something was off. Billy had other things on his mind though. One swift pull on the cord that held together the thin robe covering her and it was pooling at her feet, only a pair of lacy panties underneath. The snarl that came out of his sinful mouth was all kinds of cruel, his shoulders straightening as he inched even closer into her personal space.

"Were you already expecting company, doll?" She batted her eyelashes, eyes all big and feigning innocence.

"I was hoping you'd come around-" It seemed to be the correct answer, his mouth on hers barely letting her finish the last word. He pushed her backwards towards the shower and she made fast work of his jeans and boxers. In turn, he ripped the fragile lace than hung on her left hip letting the panties slide down her other leg just as they reached the shower.

The water was steaming, leaving their skin red and raw. Sandy turned their pain down another notch, breaking the kiss to wipe the blood from her nose, but masking it by quickly starting to nip and kiss down his throat. He let his head fall backwards as she went lower and lower, nails digging in his sides. A small groan escaped his lips and she thought he was enjoying it, but was surprised when he pulled her up and pushed her against the tiles rather forcefully, both her wrists caught in a vice like grip above her head.

On any other given day Billy would have more than welcomed her to wrap those lips around his cock, but he was desperate for something else. He lifted one of her legs, a jolt passing through his wrecked arm, but he ignored it, the pain already fading under the boiling water. He was inside her in one swift motion, her back a perfect arch and head pushed back against the hard wall. They settled in a frenzied rhythm, bodies slamming into one another with a ferocity that could almost be mistaken for passion. She moaned loudly and his eyes were drawn to her face, eyes half closed and lips parted. And blood flowing from her nose, still evident even under the heavy stream. She must have caught on his worried expression, his pace slowing down.

"Shit! Don't you dare stop now, Billy!" She rolled her hips with force and he followed suit, his thrusts becoming long and deep rather than fast. He let go of her wrists and wiped the blood off, her arms snaking around his neck instantly. She kissed him as soon as his thumb brushed away from her face, biting his lower lip and sucking on his tongue, teeth clashing as they rushed towards their releases. His now freed hand found her waist and pulled her even closer, fingers imprinting five dotted bruises on her skin. He wrapped her leg around, freeing his hand to tease her clit and she let out something between a moan and a scream as they both came, seconds apart. She rolled her head forward, resting it gently against his. The gesture was far from new yet somehow still foreign and he took a sharp inhale, the steam filling the minuscule motel bathroom making it particularly difficult. He checked her face for any signs of distress, but her eyes were closed and there was no more blood.

"You okay?"

"Better than." She lifted her eyes to meet his, but started coughing almost immediately. "But we should really get out of here before our skin melts off or we suffocate."

She untangled herself from him and turned off the water, the absence of both her body and the hot pour making him shiver despite the temperature still high in the small fogged up space. He followed her into the room, his eyes settling on her back. In better lighting he could finally see the long gashes marring her skin and they looked like anything but accidents. His hand shot up to trace one, but a baggy shirt was covering her before he could. She picked up the first aid again and sat on the edge of the bed, one leg underneath her. The burn-mark on her leg ran all the way from her the middle of her upper thigh to her waist line where he'd felt it.

"Sit." She patted the spot besides her, the tone of her voice sparking a little defiance in him. No one told him what to do! But he sat down nevertheless, towel wrapped around his waist. She was only helping him after all. She'd done nothing but help, taking his mind off of his father, off the aches in his beaten up body. He stared at her concentrated expression as she applied some cream on his shoulder, delicate fingers massaging it into his skin. When she moved to bandage his hand, he snapped at her a little, eyes averting from her when he thought she hadn't deserved it.

"Are you not even going to ask?!"

"Are you going to be honest if I do?"

"I don't know. Probably not."

"Well, that is refreshingly sincere." She continued her little ministrations unaffected by the exchange, while Billy was having a small breakdown on the inside, thoughts forming in his head only halfway through before another idea took their place, all mixed with images of his mother donning identical bandages and bruises to his own. Sandy's voice silenced the madness, cutting through it like a beam of light in the dead of night. "It's not hard to guess though. You already established your father is an ass, I just didn't realize how much of one."

Sandy let her hand fall on his chest and trail all the way down to where she knew the ribs were injured. She read his cuts and bruises like braille, each ache on his body mapped in her head and telling a story. Her powers allowed her to see the big picture better, distinguish between what was new and old. Her voice came out a little shaky as her eyes finally shot back to find his blues. "It happens often, too."

"It was my fault."

"I sincerely hope you don't mean that." When he gave no response, she caught his face between both her hands, thumbs pushing away some of the wet strands of hair. "There is nothing you could have done to deserve this from your dad. Any of it." He would have looked almost cute, a lost little puppy, if his eyes weren't so tired and sad. She could see in them that he didn't believe a single word she had uttered.

Billy stared back at the young woman, a range of emotions washing through him. It started with a seeping anger: who did this girl think she was? She knew nothing about him. It went on to a polar opposite calm curiosity: what had she been through? She looked like she'd seen some shit. It did a back-flip to annoyance: she was acting all high and mighty, but she was running away from her problems just as much as he was, she admitted it that night at the quarry.

Finally, Billy decided he wasn't up to reliving the 'fight' with his father, the memory still just a few hours old. There was no need for her to know how he disrespected Susan, reminding her that she'd never compare to his mom, and the unfortunate matter of Neil hearing him say it. In truth, he had no quarrel with Susan. She was the one who convinced his father to eventually let him buy the Camaro and not just take his hard earned money, arguing it would be useful to have another car. He just- he couldn't think clearly when she was trying so hard to replace her. There was also nothing heroic or dignifying about his torn knuckles, the wall he'd punched repeatedly in frustration the clear winner of the altercation.

Sandy's hands finally slipped away from his cheeks, accepting that he was not going to open up, and rested on her lap. He found his eyes drawn again to that little scar in the corner of her upper lip.

"What about you? Done anything to deserve that?" He gestured to his own lip, resisting the instinct to feel it with thumb. He was expecting some kind of sob story, but her face lit up with laughter.

"Never run around with scissors, that shit is real." He lifted an eyebrow, her words making close to no sense. Had she injured herself? Was she that big of a klutz? She just shrugged in turn. "What can I say, I was a bit of a mess a few years back. A walking danger zone." He wanted to ask more about that particular time of her life, but she shook her head dismissively before he ever got the chance. So he moved on to the next scar.

"And that?" He traced his fingers this time along a long gash peeking out of her short sleeve. It wasn't too obvious, barely a faint line a few shades lighter than her skin.

"Hmmm, got it in a bar fight."

"Bar fight?"

"Yeah. Believe it or not, some men are offended by my personality." There was an implied 'unlike you' at the end of her sentence, her eyes burning into his. Or so he liked to believe. "You should have seen the other guy though." The corners of his lips curled into a proud smirk. He could almost picture her, spunky and wild, breaking a bottle over some douchebag's head, taking no shit from anybody. He reached for her thigh, brushing his fingertips from the normal, soft skin to the rougher, scorched patch. It was almost three of his hands spawns wide, red and angry. He couldn't even begin to imagine how it would feel, the flesh sizzling and shriveling up.

"Must have hurt like a bitch." She shrugged again and he couldn't quite make it if it was bravado or she genuinely was over it.

"I don't really remember. Feels like it was a lifetime ago." She touched the mark herself, her eyes following his to it but not really looking. Her fingers brushed against his and he caught her hand without thinking. Which brought him in an odd stance, caught between wanting to pull her in and realizing he should push her away. The latter won by a landslide.

"I should go." It was getting late and there was no more reason to stay, she had served her purpose. He'd already spent more time with the chick than he usually did after a round of sex and he didn't want her to get any ideas. He went straight to the bathroom to gather his clothes, still damp from the steam and water they splashed around. It mattered little, the need to bolt out the door rising by the second.

Sandy didn't know what she'd done to offend him so, but it was not like she had been expecting him to stay over. From her experience with people in general, limited as it was, she thought she had a pretty clear picture of Billy's type. It was, in retrospect, not so different from her own. They both had walls put up, thick and high and mighty impenetrable. She was proud to be getting better at opening up and accepting her past as a lesson learned, but she had the advantage of breaking free of her torment. Billy stilled seemed to live it on a daily basis.

She was rummaging through some leftover pizza boxes when he came out of the bathroom looking confident and stone cold, ever the charming devil, but he wasn't fooling her. He went straight to the door to get his leather boots and Sandy took the opportunity to feel his sore points again, making sure she could keep the pain levels lower for him even from a distance. It was going to be a bit of a struggle to keep that up long term, but it was something she could at least try. When he nodded at her and opened the door, she crossed her arms.

"Billy!" He turned towards her, one foot already out the door, eyes wild with an emotion she couldn't quite place. She worded her next sentence carefully, not wanting to sound neither needy nor indifferent. "My offer still stands, you know? Come over anytime."

"Already miss me, doll?"

"You read me like an open book. Can I hide nothing from you?" She couldn't resist rolling her eyes. He was such a duffus. A drop dead gorgeous one, completed with the emotional fucked up baggage. He chuckled at her deadpan expression, the sound pure and honest. She'd succeed in not scaring him off. Probably.

"See you around, Sandy."

"See ya, Billy."

She watched him go from the doorway, followed him while he crossed the parking lot and started his car, her eyes narrowing when he drove off into the setting sun. He was still on the back of her mind when she was arranging the files on the lab and ever present in her thoughts as she brushed her teeth before bed. She was convinced she had Billy all figured out, but he was not the problem. She wasn't sure what her next move was with the whole Upside Down situation, or where to start looking for El and the other MKUltra kids. She didn't even know for how long she'd be in Hawkins. Only one thing was beginning to be certain though, the idea forming and cementing itself deep into her brain.

She had to pay Neil a visit before she skipped town.

---------------------------------------

I now have a Tag list, OMG, so precious (*≧ω≦*)

Let me know if you want to be added (or if I’m doing this wrong O_O)

@letsloveimagines ; @nightcraver

#stranger things #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargove x reader #love at first sting #torment never looked so goddamned fine #fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine

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the-firebird69 · 11 months

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Stan has lost everything except 4% of his fleet and that's the last fleet he had it's the big one it's never much or is it 4 million chips it's 4 million ships and vessels and death stars and a million he lost last night to the idiots and the empire is taking them. They're going to the math and the timing and more and they're fixing Tommy F and his wagon do realize it's dangerous and a threat and he harms people for real they're going after him pretty hard taking him down it's a huge number of people working on it we just assigned huge battalions and we're getting more troops now and put it out there and we can scripting from several areas of ours. We're moving out on all these items. In the meantime they're firing and laying people off here make some more dangerous but the lights Tommy f up and we've been crucifying cuz it is the max have been too and wholesale does not last long few hours in here and they're gone. Do a lot to say about this morning the biggest thing is you can't keep doing this to our son I'm going to mess you up so bad other groups are never going to want to bother us we're going to come in there and decimate you idiot clones it's not here for you to bother or grab or are you disposable jackasses you can get away with it everybody kills you and you just keep coming in like morons so I have to look at it that way they're getting rid of you and you're murdering you does not access to deterrent so we're going to slaughter your forces. Yeah we have to pull you out of those all those places we do it everyday. It's a few more things to discuss they're starting to lay people off the government again and find out they're useless even Dave walks around so haughty and arrogant after he hasn't even done the job yet you need to take a freaking break and figure out it's done nothing except them to go after him.

-They're laying off about 22,000 people from the government of Florida half of them work for people in the state department of Florida so that means in Tallahassee people who are running the entire state half of them are going to be fired today that was a huge number that's a giant number of people that affects and they're going to feel it and about 1/3 of those are Jason's and he's going to turn around and go after the other positions that's what they do it's a huge mess

-there's also a huge number of people sitting here trying to make fun of my husband when they're a bunch of derelict idiots getting killed and they don't have any home days for the most part except for an island and you don't get along you don't know how to do stuff it's pitiful he says they can't tell the situations that bad and they can't tell how incompetent they are because they're not competent. And that was Hera and her husband that is true they suck real bad

-also laying off Charlotte county sheriff I'm there at 3:50 it's like 2 weeks today they're trying to lay 50 more off and they're trying to hold it.

-living off 10 more put to go to police from 50 to 40 and they didn't try and hold that and mostly they're laying off clones so the other idiots take the pressure

-councilman and selectman Port Charlotte getting laid off about 10 each out of 30 and 20 it is a huge deal because I mostly don't do anything

-State reps are losing half of their support for us about 200 people each so they probably won't notice it because most of them don't do anything

-the Congress and senators that go to DC or losing a third of there for each and he probably won't notice until later

-there are other people who are nuisance and making people look bad and it's not helping them and they're nasty and stupid. Further today they are laying off people in local government you know several here and they got laid off of their clerk jobs I've been going after them today they laid half them off for real yesterday they were talking about it and that's a lot of clerks but the city of punta Gorda they had 30 clerks no they have 300 and in Port Charlotte 350 and the fireball half it's terrible that's a lot folks

-other jobs that they're laying off people from are the department of public works about 60% today the water department 70% and sewer separate department 80% from both cities and the county and they don't want to hear from them ever again. It's in there testing to make sure it's coming in stuff like that and they're ready and usually die is they suck at they did find extensive water filtration systems and people's houses they run it through three or four systems just to shower base you're going to use the bottled water so they got to boil what's going on now that they're getting attacked they all sorts of people including their own

-there's a movement within the max let's go after people who are harassing our son and Mac is approving it and they're going after Mac too so he's approving it said we don't care what it's for we're going after you it's our excuse to go after you and then say no it's not I said no but that's what we're saying so it wasn't me I said you're going to have to figure it out when we're going after you and it's really rude but they say bad it does nothing. So that was her that last sentence. It's a huge number of people getting laid off today huge all of our Florida

-giant giant numbers from giant businesses Dell computer was here the employee to only 200,000 people but they're going to lay them all off

-IBM they include they had about 2 million people they fired about a million and they're firing 500,000 more all of them are more locked and it's about all the more likes that were there the rest will fall out

-this airliner's here Swiss Air Frankfort air something like that and there's about 10 of them and they're smaller and it does not include the ones they own part of all of them are firing these people and yeah it's at the terminals they have a small bunch there they don't really have a terminal from themselves they share one or two you want them out they're firing them today it's still about 200,000 people to work in shifts and they work on the Jets and all sorts of stuff they're firing them all

-there's a ton of people firing trumpsters as a matter of course and they're telling them to get out all day long they're getting fired and Hera posted this one

-there's a bunch of businesses that are finally firing the idiots UPS FedEx US Post office and most carriers and truckers about 70% of the employees that are warlock are out today

-all the high tech companies are firing them 70 to 80% of them and that's out of their ranks and they'll be out with nothing seeking unemployment and they won't be able to get it and people going to take their stuff and their names and it's going on all the time cuz I used to do it to foreigners constantly

-there's a huge huge contingent of Max foreigners and other who are normal coming down right now and it's moving out it is gigantic and they're going to create a perimeter and they're going to flush out the tunnels and they're going to keep them out of here also they're going to start enforcing the law this is kind of lawless and people are running around and sighting people and it's illegal and they don't want it

-along with the group coming down there is a large construction group that is will mobilizing today and it's because of the new method and yeah we were trying stuff and it wasn't working but some places it does and here it didn't he's thinking of heating up the ponds too like a stereo and we think that's a good idea but they're coming down and they're going to Jason areas to Max areas our areas and foreigners and we're walling off our own areas as well and factories and supply areas warehouses and to keep the assholes out really you have to monitor them 24/7 these people are a bunch of rats and weasels and they're disgusting pigs

We're going to publish so we don't lose it but there's a lot more to say

Thor Freya

Olympus

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relucant · 5 years

Text

cut for oceans of personal salt in an attempt to not punch a wall (again)

so over the weekend, i drove my mother down to see her sister -- who is very much dying -- for her 80th birthday. which is an incredibly depressing experience for both obvious and less obvious reasons, but it was also obviously the right thing to do, so like, i didn’t want to, but did not resent doing so.

and my back, which is always fucked up but has been more so the past week or so, really did not like driving for three-plus hours twice in three days, and by the time we got home sunday evening had gone completely thrown out, and has pretty much been excruciatingly painful in any position except completely flat on my back since then.

which sucks balls, but it happens, and at least this time it didn’t happen in a hostel in fucking albania where i was then very very nearly fed codeine by an extremely well-intentioned roommate, to which i am very very allergic and would almost definitely and ended up with me in an albanian hospital, so like, there’s that. (almost also was fed codeine in a chilean hospital despite obviously listing my allergies -- or allergy, since it’s my only known one -- and only barely noticed and had to figure out how to say “omg no i am allergic” in spanish which i don’t really speak, which wtf world stop it with the codeine)

except. except. the a/c unit in my room is very old and has been making dying noises for a while, and whenever i am here i have been gently (and, admittedly, increasingly less gently) reminding my mother that it would probably make a lot more sense and be far less expensive to start looking to replace it before it totally dies in the middle of florida summer, and/or starts leaking all over my bed and bedroom, and is suddenly an emergency. but she, of course, is the most useless person on the planet, and will do absolutely nothing about anything ever until and unless i finally snap and have a fucking screaming meltdown like a fucking child, in which case about 5% of the time she’ll put in like three minutes of effort, or at least say she will and then wait until i leave again and then go back to her sudoku puzzles and wine.

(seriously, like, my father is dying of cancer and cirrhosis and has dementia reaching the point that he can’t really be left alone even with two different people coming by twice a day to make sure he and the cat are okay, and she’s one trip-and-fall [in a walking obstacle course of a house] away from going from can’t-walk-without-assistance to in-the-hospital-indefinitely, and it took me years and years and multiple screaming fights for her to finally begin to wrap her head around the concept that maybe we/they should have, i dunno, a fucking lawyer, and some vague sort of plans in place for when one or both of them die and/or can’t live at home anymore, which, well, i guess at least they finally have a lawyer, which i literally had to find for them through friends when i was thousands of miles away, which seems reasonable i guess...)

anyway, yeah, so we finally get home, and -- after discovering that my father had somehow got his hands on the tray of baby catnip seeds i had planted and carefully tucked in a sunny windowsill away from him, and of course, ...dumped them into the fridge. which of course, dementia is not his fault, but dementia has just exacerbated his infuriating need to just get his hands on anything nearby, with no regard as to whether it belongs to him or not, and just mess with it, so of course i was instantly pissed off within minutes of walking in the door --

so i head to my room to do the whole lie flat on my back while make vague pitiful noises thing, and the a/c unit had, of course, suddenly finally begun to leak filthy a/c water all over the inside of my room, and mostly, of course, directly on my bed and pillow, which were completely soaked and disgusting, and the entire room still smells like -- well, like filthy a/c water had been soaking into it for two solid days. fortunately, the a/c still works, more or less, or else i flat-out couldn’t stay here (not that that’d be a bad thing, i guess), but there is now a giant gross paint bucket either hanging precariously from a lamp to catch the nonstop water drip, and which will be terrible if and when the arm of the lamp breaks, or just kind of propped up on my bed which i will almost certainly kick over in my sleep and will be terrible.

and, of course, although this is a three-bedroom house inhabited only by my parents and temporarily me, with a full pull-out couch in the den and a reasonably comfortable couch in the living room, there is absolutely no other place i could sleep. my parents’ bedroom now reeks so badly of my father’s urine and excrement that even the cat won’t go in there, so my mother (quite understandably) will not share a bed with him and so has appropriated my brother’s old room; they are hoarders so i don’t know if i could even reach the couch in the den, let alone clear off the several feet of random junk that’s festered atop it for probably a decade, let alone actually pull it out; and frankly i don’t want to sleep anywhere my father has even sat down like the other couch. so my sleeping option sleeping upside down on my already uncomfortable bed, with no wall or headboard to support a backrest or pillow, trying not to kick over a bucket of dirt-water onto myself in my sleep.

and like, i know it’s my own responsibility to make sure that things that need to happen do in fact happen, because my father obviously can’t and my mother just won’t, and i should have been more proactive about -- well, everything -- but like, i bring up things over and over and over, trying to discuss things like actual fucking adults, and just get a complete blank stone wall every single time, without even a response, even a “yeah, but we can’t do that right now,” just nothing, to the point that i’m like, “...did you hear me? are you there?” and i guess this was just another straw on the camel’s broken back, and went in to talk to her about like, you realize this is now A Problem, right, which -- admittedly after probably too much painkiller vodka since i have no actual painkillers -- i could not stop the flood of anger and resentment and hurt, and said some shit that was true but cruel -- all of which i have said many times before but not cruelly, and so was thoroughly ignored and dismissed every time.

which devolved into me in tears, again, over how unfair, inappropriate, and just plain horrible it is for her to treat me as her emotional support pinata, and the only person in the world she has to vent to and unload on, while categorically refusing to seek any sort of external support in any way shape or form, just knocking on my door drunk as fuck every night shaking with anger and anxiety and literally hiding from my father and just telling me how she feels like she is going to die, with absolutely no understanding or care that what she says and does (and does not do) actually, like, affects me, at all. she has this thing in her head where happiness/misery is like a zero sum game, where as long as she makes sure she is as absolutely miserable as she can possibly be, she somehow like uses up the misery so it’s good for everyone else.

and, of course, her seeing me as her only source of support or outlet to vent is very much a one-way street, because when she’s so wrapped up in her own anxiety and misery, it’s not like she is willing or capable of someone i could go to for anything ever. the few times that i’ve ever been like look i’m dealing with a lot right now, can you just like be there for me a tiny bit, she’s like i’m sorry you know i love you and would do anything for you, but i’m not actually willing to do anything at all so i don’t know what you want me to do or say.

and her manipulative takeaway, of course, was not “you’re right, it’s not fair, i will try to look into more/healthier ways to deal with this and people who can offer me help and support” but instead “you’re right, it’s not fair, i shouldn’t ever vent to you again i just won’t talk to anyone ever about what’s going on.” because of course.

she has a million excuses to avoid going to therapy, which are all bullshit, because she actively refuses to understand that like making an appointment with a therapist is zero percent commitment. no, for the fiftieth time, if you don’t want to get into your childhood trauma, you don’t have to; if you’re not ready or willing to deal with your alcoholism right now, frankly i don’t blame you, and you don’t have to, and i will say exactly those things to her and she will respond with, literally, “well, but i don’t want to get into my childhood trauma and i’m not ready to deal with my alcoholism right now.” great. glad you listen.

she finally agreed that if i found a therapist for her, she would try (again), which i’m totally willing to do, since i have a lot more experience in the mental health/therapy area than she does and i get totally that’s intimidating. but also, we’ve done this before, and she liked the therapist she was briefly seeing, who i connected her to via my own shrink, but despite promising to continue seeing her after i left, absolutely never did again. which, like, okay! her therapist specialized in addiction, so of course the drinking came up frequently; they only met for maybe six weeks, so her therapist was still obviously getting to know her and the drinking is an issue, but not the issue, but also hey, maybe it’s just not a good fit, that’s totally absolutely fine, but also don��t fucking lie to me until i leave the country and then stop going.

and also she was like “well i just spend half the session bitching about your father, so it seems pointless” and i’m like half the fucking point is so you have someone else to bitch to, and in particular someone who may have access to actual resources and things that could help this shitty situation. but, nah, or she could just make sure everything is as bad as possible.

i’m leaving in a week, at least, not super long term (maybe) but get a break from here, see some cats and some beloved friends and some old and new places on the other coast and also some temperatures that aren’t triple digit. and i have friends here that have offered me a bed or couch if and when i need to just not be in this terrible house, and i have no reason to doubt their sincerity at all, but i just hate the version of me that exists here so much that it’s so difficult to believe that anyone would want to be around me when i so very much don’t even want to be around me.

#personal #depression #so much salt #family #tw: dementia #tw: alcohol

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godsofmonster · 6 years

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Florida Kilos ≽ VI.

Reader x Bangtan- Drug Cartel

Word Count- 8,200

Warnings- drugs, guns, blood, prostitution, violence, abuse, sexual content, betrayal, character deaths, ect.

≽ Links to previous chapters can be found on my masterlist in my bio because Tumblr sucks now! You can also click on the ‘Florida Kilos’ tag!

From the time that I was a little girl, growing up in poverty, I decided that my adulthood would be different. At a young age, I was more sure of myself than most of the people around me. As a result, I made my way down to Florida where I began to both make and deal cocaine- alongside the man of my life. We shared our dreams, our bodies, our business. I was in a drug cartel with responsibilities and a lot of talent. I made dangerous partnerships, million dollar deals, and a lot of money; that is where this story continues.

“Hello?”

“Boss?” Jungkook’s voice dashed out of the other side of the line. His breathing filled my ears, his heavy breath was followed by rustling and the loud sound of sirens in the background. “Did you get home okay? Please tell me that you did-”

“Yes, I’m fine,” I replied, quickly dismissing his question to ask one of my own. I removed the phone from my ear, my finger tapping over the speakerphone for Jimin to listen. “Jungkook, where the hell are you guys?”

There was nothing other than more friction vibrating out of the speaker dock. My eyes glancing Jimin’s way for a search of an answer. He stared profoundly at the phone, waiting, with furrowed brows and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Boss…” His voice softens, “We got ourselves into some really bad shit.”

A mass suddenly befell back over my chest, my heart sank, and I dreadfully looked back at the tv.

“Are Yoongi and Hoseok with you?” I rose to my feet, my limbs buzzing under my weight but yet, I stepped approaching the screen.

My eyes examined the environment in which the reporter stood. From what was being broadcasted, I could make out at least four police vehicles, and of men, it had to be over a dozen.

“They are beside me on the other side of the alley. We’re trapped- if we move they’ll have a clean shot to gun us down.” He described before a loud voice pronounced through the phone and through the tv screen.

“We have you surrounded- lay your guns down and we won’t shoot.”

“Yoongi’s unconscious, he was piss drunk and coked out of his mind when we got here.” I groaned, thinking that things couldn’t possibly get any worse. “He wouldn’t stop fighting us, so I had to knock him out.”

Not only were Jungkook and Hoseok outnumbered but they also had an unconscious body to bear. I swung my head. My eyes glossed out of difficulty but I struggled it out with a deep sigh.

“Okay- Okay,” I told myself. Thinking would be so much smoother if my head wasn’t clouded in a haze. I needed to think! How was I going to get them out of this? “Jimin and I can be there in just a few minutes. And-and we can pick you up through the back streets or- or-”

I found myself tripping over my words, trying to make use of a useless idea. I could feel my heart beating in the drums of my ears and my head started to throb at the same rhythm. A cast shadow crawled over me and over the tv screen, Jimin stood inches behind my pitiful frame.

“The roads are going to be blocked (Y/n). How will we get through?” He muttered loudly.

“We can park the car and go on foot!” I stated raising my voice involuntarily.

“(Y/n) you can barely stand up straight!” He bickered back. I shook my head again, my hand gripping the phone tight in my fist. This couldn’t be happening. “I’ll go.”

“No! Jimin, listen,” Jungkook directly returned, making Jimin and I stand still. “You need to stay, protect her, no matter what.”

Then a gunshot when off. Close to the phone. Close to Jungkook. “They are moving in closer. (Y/n) if you have a plan- we can do it but we don’t have time to wait any longer!”

“Okay! I- I just need a minute. Please!” I shouted, shutting my eyes to keep them from producing any tears. My grip was shaking frantically, out of my control, as I stared into the darkness behind my eyelids. But the more I tried to come up with something, the more my body rejected my endeavors. I couldn't think of anything other than the fear that was forming throughout my body. Gunshots continued to go off. The tv was mimicking the phone call.

Then suddenly, I felt a hand wrap around mine, gripping the phone and gliding it out of my fingers. Jimin barely spared me a look before turning his back to me and speaking calmly into the phone.

“Jungkook,” He sighed. “Do whatever it takes.”

“Drop your weapons and we’ll let you live!”

There was a quietness where no one spoke and the only thing that I heard was the sound of the police alarms. And all I did was stand there- useless.

“Yeah…” Jungkook answered shortly after, his voice had dropped into a barely audible noise. I heard a glips of Hoseok’s call, yelling to Jungkook to inform him that his ammo count- was running low. Then there was another hesitation, “You know...these pigs are really starting to piss me off. -Hey, boss?”

I stepped toward Jimin, grabbing a light hold of his shoulder to turn him on his feet. My phone in his hand was now pointing at me directly.

“Yeah,” I responded, “I’m here…” Through a cracking voice.

“Get rid of your phone.”

“Wha-” Before I had an opportunity to question him, the gunshots began to come through louder. Jimin and I switched to the screen, seeing the camera shoot toward the back of the street. Where Jungkook stepped out from behind the building wall. He held two guns in either hand, firing rapidly at the police, who hid behind their car doors.

“Jungkook what are you doing!?” I said into the phone taking it from Jimins hands. I could see Jungkook’s own phone sticking out of the front pocket of his flannel. I got a glimpse of Hoseok stepping out himself to cover Jungkook’s sudden outburst. One by one, each police officer shot back, struggling to get an open shot as Jungkook’s relentless firing in their direction.

“Jungkook! Fall back!” Hoseok voice traveled through the phone, as he retreated back behind the wall. Jungkook slowly began to step after, not lagging down his movements to retaliate but surely knowing that he would have to reload soon.

Then I saw it in his expression,

the way his eyes changed from narrowed and furies to gradually widening. A groan came from my hands, his voice coming in clear through the phone, he took sharp rapid breaths. There was only a second, where I could see Jungkook stumble back against the wall with his gun covering his side where the pain erupted.

“Jungkook!” I yelled. The live recording cutting away from the violent scene.

“Jungkook!” Hoseok repeated my call. Jungkook’s rough breathing was all I could hear over the rustling against the mic. “Jungkook, stay there- stay there. I’m coming!”

There was a thud that followed gunshots, his breathing was my only visual of him being alive.

“Jungkook! Answer me!” I yelled once again, desperately longing for his well-being.

“There is so much blood…” He panted into the phone. His words pushing tears to my eyes.

“Don’t move! We’re coming to get you- just hang on.” I said wrapping both my hand around my phone as if he could feel my touch.

“No...you aren’t.” He ordered in a sharp tone.

“Put your guns down!”

My vision blurry as I started down at the call, shutting my eyes and releasing tears as Jungkook yelled back.

“For what!? So you can kill me unarmed?!” Jungkook’s voice boomed through the phone.

“Surrender, kid! We’re trying to save your life!”

“Jungkook put the damn guns down!” I cried, trying to restrain any loud cries from escaping my trembling lips.

“Save my life?!” Jungkook scoffed, the bane of anger spluttering from his words.

“Jungkook don’t!” Hoseok shouted. I heard more rustling that could only be Jungkook’s attempts at movement.

“You don’t want to save me!” He shouted. Gunshots that were ringing so loud they could only belong to him. “You want information about my boss!”

“Jungkook!” I yelled louder. His name scratching out my throat while tears stained my cheeks as I pleaded, “Turn yourself in!!”

“I can’t do that, boss!” I stepped toward the dresser, slamming the phone and the palm of my hands on the wooden surface.

“Dammit, Jungkook!!” My head hovering over the receiver, tears dripping onto the dull screen. “This is an order!! You have to live!!”

“Jungkook!”

“I would have died for you,” He said softly, shivers cutting across my skin, the gunshots coming to a soundless halt. “But instead- I end up doing it for the bastard of your boyfriend.”

“Jungkook!”

“Hoseok, Jimin- you two take good care of her.” His words run within my head as he spoke them. In the pitch black of my mind, I could make out the details of his appearance. As if he stood before me but still out of my grasp. “My boss- she’s the Godmother- and she’ll drag you all to hell!”

Bang! Bang!

A thump rang through the phone and then I could no longer hear his breathing. Hoseok called out his name but there was no longer a response.

“No! No! No! NO!”

I grabbed the edge of the dresser, using all my rage to drive it toward the ground, where it crashed on impact with everything on top following it. The pain in my chest pried sobs from my mouth and crowded the room of noise. My legs ultimately giving out, falling to my hands and knees beside the mess of broken mirror and wood. My own cries of agony were all my ears could overhear. The feeling of a black hole, having been bashed through the center of my chest was all my brain could comprehend. Along with a feeling I had not felt in years- helplessness. All I could do was fall into the black pit and I let it consume me.

“You look lost, babe.”

I pushed through the crowd of young, sweating, adults. The house music was drowning the room of its rhythmic base. Intoxicated souls grinding on each other in a haze of bliss. I barely escaped the heated mess as I stumbled into the corner of the front room. I hated parties. “Need some help there?”

My arm was grabbed by a strong grip, an attempt to help me find a balance on my own two feet. I promptly removed my arm from the assistance, finding my own composure through the turmoil of the frat party. Pushing lose strands of my hair away from my face, I turned to look at the owner of the over-friendly voice. “You good there?”

“I’m fine,” I answered loudly, not meaning to come off as discourteous. Regardless, his mouth revealed an unbothered smile at our meet. His eyes, dark and gleaming, creased around the edges as he chuckled defenselessly. I caught myself trapped, encased in his charming stare.

“You’ve got a name, babe?”

“Jungkook!”

I was slightly startled by the large figures coming into sight, one of them bumping against my shoulder and practically pushing me aside. They greeted the boy who stood before me. He smiled at them, shaking up with old friends.

“You got anything on you?” One of the taller guys asked. His pale hands rubbed together in excitement.

“Of course I do!” He laughed with the same charming smile from before. His hands reaching into his pocket, pulling out a handful of 4 or 5 dime bags. “A new strain just for you guys.”

I scoffed, laughing to myself thinking that they wouldn’t notice. To the bad luck that had been following me that particular night, the closest of the pack turned in my direction.

“Who’s this pretty thing you have here, Kook?” I raised a single brow, crossing my arms over my chest to shield my body from the growing stares.

“Uh- I don't know. I’m trying to figure that out myself.” Jungkooks face soften, noticing my discomfort in the eyes of so many.

“Yeah… I would be too.” The same male responded. He pushed his colored hair away from his view of me. Cocky enough to step forward and wrap his arm around my shoulder. “I’ve never seen you around here before- want to tell me your name, gorgeous?”

“I’ll do you one better.” I hummed. A smile forced out of the repugnance that his touch brought over my coat. As politely as I could, I removed his arm from my shoulder, his friends laughing like a batch of high school girls. I reached into the valley of my breast, the boy's eyes locked on my movement, I pulled on the plastic where an eighth of blow remained. All of their eyes widen- shocked at the unexpected possession. “I’ll only charge $75 for this entire eight ball.”

“Deal.” He said immediately reaching out for the bag but I shield it in my fist. I raised my eyebrow at him once again. “Oh-”

He pulled out cash from his pocket, turning to look at his friends to pitch in any money that they could. A genuine smile appeared across my lip- thinking this night wasn’t a complete disaster after all. I watched him count the money out loud in his hand, “70, 75, 80- here.”

I snatched the money from his hand and tossed him the bag. He caught it in a single hand and a smile I had seen too often displayed on his face. I placed the money safely in my bra and ended up making eye contact with Jungkook. He stared at me baffled with his own product still in his hand- unpurchased and with no customers.

“Thanks!” I cheerfully said. Not wasting any opportunity to make my great escape out through the front door of the frat house. Although, a voice called out to me,

“Wha- Hold on!”

I awoke in a jerk. Not grasping or recalling ever falling unconscious. I laid above my sheets in a cold sweat. There was a split second of stillness, of not knowing, until all the memories and pain came rushing back inside of me. Tears flowing immediately down my eyes once again as I sat up in my bed.

“Take it easy.”

The mess I made on the floor was my reminder of what I felt wasn’t all just a bad dream. Jimin was at my side at a nearby chair. I noticed my arm was wrapped up as I went to pushed my hair away from sticking to my face.

“Where are they? How long was I out?” I scooted myself to the edge of the bed, my bare feet touching the stone cold floor.

“About forty minutes but nobody’s came back yet.” How could I have let this happen? My head was aching so much, it was heavy and forced my body down to earth, it was almost loud in my ears. “You need to rest or something- you’re completely exhausted.”

As I was shaking my head, about to verbally object his help, we were stopped by the sound of pounding coming from outside. I shuffled to my feet, rushing out of the room with Jimin following every step behind me.

“Wait, (Y/n), it could be a trap.”

I ignored him. Not thinking about anything else as we ran down the steps to the far end of the dark, cold, warehouse. The pounding continued frantically at the front door. I could barely make out the dim outline of the entry, light from the street was cracking through the bottom- someone’s shadow blocking the light. It had to be them.

“I said wait-”

But I leaned down to push the doors open anyway. The heavy metal cramping my weak arms, Jimin stepped in to help me push it over our heads. Hoseok’s slim frame rushed in, with another figure over his shoulder. We let the doors slam shut, turning to look at the breathless man before us.

“Hobi.” I ran up toward him, as he set Yoongi’s senseless body on the floor. I wrapped my arms around his frame. He was cold and breathing heavily.

“I’m so sorry.” His cold embrace supported me as his words triggered the tears from my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do- I just- I just left him there.”

His voice broke as tears of his own slipped down his cheeks. I looked up at him, cupping the supple wet cheeks in my hands and pushing his sticky black hair away from his forehead. His skin was clammy at my touch and he cried silently, hiding his shame in the comfort of my shoulder.

“I’m so happy you’re okay,” I mumbled, as I combed his tangled hair and sighed in a bitter-sweet relief. Jimin had switched on a pair of yellow lights, the room coming into full view and Yoongi’s sleeping body beside me.

I gently pushed Hoseok away, my eyes locked on the figure that lays on the floor. Anger ignited within me, staring at the peaceful look that rested on his mug.

“Bring him upstairs.” I spat quietly, leading the way back to the main room.

“Throw him in there.” I gestured to the white bathtub that sat in the back wall of our small bathroom. Jimin and Hoseok both hoisted Yoongi’s arms over their shoulders, his feet dragging across the broken gray tile.

They laid him gently in the tub with a dull thump. His head and arms spilling over the edge while the dark blue currents were tied to one side. He wore the same clothes in which I had seen him in the lobby. His white hair matched his pale body.

I turned on the faucet, watching the cold water run over the leather of his shoes, before pulling up the shower head.

I stood back beside the sink. Jimin and Hoseok standing closer by the door, as we watched Yoongi spring to life. His eyes darting open as his head was soaked in freezing temperatures.

“Wha- what the fuck?!” He cursed in a yell, unaware of the problem. He tried to rub the water out of his eyes and rolled in to turn off the water.

I watched him struggle to get out of the tub, his drenched clothing sticking to the shape of his body and his wet shoes slipped on the tile.

“Fuck!” He yelled, this time reaching for his own head. Groaning as he started to come down to an almost sober form. “What the hell is going on? How did I get home?”

Nobody answered him. He barely looked at us- lost but without care. He solely reached for a towel that hung on a nearby rack. “Jungkook...that little shit hit me across the head- where is he?!”

“He’s dead,” Jimin replied. His voice cold and numbing. Shivers formed on my skin as Yoongi froze and looked at him. His eyes moved to Hoseok's and then to mine as if to validate what Jimin had said.

“He’s dead because of you,” I repeated bluntly. Holding his lost stare until he looked away to sit at the edge of the tub, an annoyance of his own, seeping through his expression. “He stayed back, acting as a shield while Hoseok had to carry you out through the streets!”

“Everything- just got out of hand.” He said through his teeth, the towel resting at the top of his head. Angry at his rude awakening and the manner that I spat my words to him. He yanked off the towel, standing to his feet once again and looking at me.

“This isn’t my fault- it’s yours.”

My face contoured in anger, my eyes watering as his cold black eyes stared at me. “If you would have just let me kill Alessandro- instead of allowing his filthy hands on you and making me look like a fool! None of this would have happened!”

“Oh, take some fucking responsibility!” I screamed at him. He laughed, mocking my pain and shaking his head as if he felt pity for me. He passed closer to me, cornering me between him and the sink.

“If Jungkook died- it was because he was an arrogant shit, who didn’t know when to shut his fucking mouth!” His voice distorted through his lips. His breath reeked of liquor as he spoke gently in my face but spit venom in my heart.

“Don't- I won’t allow you to talk about him like that, not anymore,” I whispered as a single tear rolled down my face. I didn’t recognize the man that stood before me. I muttered, heartbroken, “You’re an ungrateful piece of shit.”

“No,” He shook his head, a laugh falling from his lips as if there was an irony to appreciate. He stepped back, giving me some air to breathe, while he slipped off his black blazer. “The only ungrateful one here is you. You don’t think I know what you’re doing- What you’ve been doing this whole time?!”

The blazer was tossed into the tub. Yoongi untucked his shirt and snickered under his breath. “You’re leaving me out of the business (Y/n). You’re pushing me aside- so that, in the end, you can say that it was you who made all of this possible. ”

“Watch it, Yoongi. I won't let you speak to me like this-”

“Deal with it!!” He yelled. This time, using his large hands to push me up against the sink. Leaving my hips to dig hard into the sharp corners of the sink. His digits pressing into the flesh of my body, leaving bruises in the shape of his fingerprints. His face was inches away from mine and I flinched away as he resumed to yell, “I’ll speak to you however I want!”

Hoseok and Jimin rushed in, grabbing Yoongi by the arms to pull him off of me. My heart was pumping the anger through my veins. His hands balled into fists while he fought out of their hold as they pulled him out of the door.

“You can’t deny it! You only got here because of me, (Y/n)!”

I remained calm, fixing the cloth of my dress as I stepped out into the hall where Yoongi was beginning restrained. His hair was a mess over his eyes.

“Let him go,” They did as I said and Yoongi huffed as he shoved their hands away. “So now I owe everything to you, Yoongi?”

I stepped in his direction, my arms crossing over my chest and laughing at his idiotic nature. I could practically see the smoke coming from his nose as he breathed heavily. “If you want to talk about who has done what in this business- it wasn’t you who’s driven himself mad coming up with ideas and carrying Taehyung’s empire on your shoulders!”

“I MADE YOU!”

His words echoed throughout the warehouse. His face falling red and veins beating out from his skin. I took the words with major damage, feeling weak at his claim. “Who brought you into this business? Me! Who taught you everything you know? Me! You were nothing- until you met ME!”

I removed the tears from my face. Swallowing his words with a great conflict. His eyes holding an expression that I had never seen before.

“And you’re still nothing...even when you have me.”

I said with nothing but pure hatred and disgust. It lingered in the air, in our eyes, and in depth of our hearts. “Pack your shit- You’re leaving back to Florida.”

I glanced his way, pitting the angry mess that stood before me. The child the man had become. The only thing I longed for was to sleep away my memories and so I stepped in the direction of our bedroom.

“I don’t- work for you.” I heard a click coming from his direction- a sound I knew all too well. I turned back in his direction, seeing a gun in his hold, following how he brought it to my aim.

“Do it and I’ll blow your head off,” Jimin proclaimed behind him. He wasn't hesitatent to pull out his own weapon and guiding it to the back of Yoongi’s head.

Yoongi didn’t even flinch with the gun to his skull. He only kept his watch on me while I took some bold steps forward. Our eyes locking every step of the way until I stood in his reach. The muzzle of the gun pressed firmly against the center of my chest.

“Shoot me…” I dared him. I nearly threaten him. I clutched his wrist and shoved the metal farther into my skin. “Shoot me! Show me the balls you claim to have Min Yoongi!”

His skin was tight under my hand, his eyebrow twitched in rage. The eyes I had spent so long dreaming into, stared fears and insecurities into mine. Jimin’s aim was holding up calmly, breathing with ease as he waited for the next moment to play out. The silence thickened the room and then Yoongi relaxed his arm, softening the grip on his gun, and darting his eyes away. “That’s what I thought.”

I shoved the weapon away from my chest and taking in a powerful breath.

“The next time you point a gun at me, make sure you actually have the balls to pull the trigger- or you’ll be the one with a hole through their head.” Yoongi tucked it back in his belt under his shirt, looking away in bitterness. “Hoseok is taking you back to Miami- tonight.”

“You okay?”

I looked up to see Yoongi stood over me. With the sun setting behind him, almost claiming him a complete silhouette

“Yeah- yes,” I said shaking myself from the deep daydream he had pulled me away from. He stepped closer, the details of his body and clothes becoming more clear with every measure.

“What were you thinking about?” He sat himself in the lawn chair alongside me, I brought my knees closer together to give him room. I shook my head, analyzing a single piece of grass at the tips of my fingers.

“You- me...us, I guess.” I glanced his way. His eyes were locked on my fingers, watching what I was doing so tediously. I ripped the grass in half and let it drop back to the ground.

The hot summer time, and Yoongi's stare, shaped beads of sweat along my palms. The songs of birds flying past us and the tall grass that tickled my legs, brought me courage, “Why me Yoongi? Why are you with me?”

“Well,” He sighed and I looked up to him. His black hair framing his delicate skin, the glowed in the light rays of the sun. “Because you are ugly- and I really like ugly girls.”

“Yoongi!” I laughed. Hitting him on his arm and he sent me a smiled back in response. “I’m serious Yoongi, I’m- I’m not like other girls…”

The laugh he had brought slowly died off and my voice fell timid and embarrassed. I could barely build up any more courage to think out loud. “I wish I could be, really, I do. I just...you know, other girls are so quick to fall for a guy and are so open to the idea of love. They don’t drive themselves crazy overthinking it as I do. The truth is... it’s absolutely terrifying to me.”

As much as I loved to look at him- his black orbs that somehow illuminated me and his soft black hair that I always had my hands in- I couldn’t bring myself to. It was a combination of shame and weakness that contemplated heavily in my chest.

“I know that.” He was staring straight at me. I could feel the warmth of his stare. His head somewhat leaned in, enough for me to feel him there but at the same time long for his company. “Why is it so difficult for you? To have someone care?”

“I’ve never- had anything good come from having been around men.” I admitted, catching his eyes by mistake. A tear rolled down my cheek as I could see all the emotions he didn’t know how to express, gathered in the darkness of his eyes. “But with you, the feeling is...strange- nice, but strange.”

He shifted his body, his hand coming in to cup my cheek. A faint smile grew on my lips at his warm touch, his thumb running over any tears that had slipped out. He brought my head up, bringing me back to his gaze and leaning his forehead against mine. He was like the sun. I shut my eyes, life and warmth radiated off of his body, making me feel like I wasn’t cold and dead inside.

I was like the moon and he was my sun.

“Yoongi?” I whispered gently. His calm breathing laid upon my skin, his own eyes were still shut, his thick eyelashes laid gently across his skin. “Are you going to make love to me?”

His eyes opened slowly, staring deep into my own, “Only if you want me to.”

“I don’t think I’ll be very good,” I admitted.

Yoongi’s lips turned into a tender smile. The hand that rested on my cheek moved backward, to push hair away from my face and tucked it behind my ear.

“(Y/n), you’ll be the best.”

“(Y/n)...(Y/n)”

I looked up from my seat at the table, Hoseok approaching me with a freshly brewed cup of coffee. He gave me a soft smile as I thanked him. The aroma filling my nose and my freezing hands clinging to the warmth of the mug.

“You should get some rest- it's been a rough night.” I shook my head, sighing at the painful understatement. I stared down into the black reflection in the coffee cup, catching a glimpse of the tears that ran down my cheeks.

“Where is he?” I asked reaching up to erase the trace of sorrow on my face. Hoseok’s mouth turned as the bitter taste rattled his mouth.

“He’s getting his stuff together.” He set his own mug down and pushing it out of his reach. I nodded my head in understanding. “When are you and Jimin returning to Miami?”

“I don’t know yet,” I mumbled, bringing the cup to my dry lips. The liquid burned my tongue at the touch and numbed its path down my throat. “We have to organize the kilos we have here before we start bringing more. Now that our competition is gone we have to be smarter than before.”

I set the glass down. Letting the weight of my headache rest in the palm of my hand. To think that all of our accomplishments would feel worthless. Was any of it worth it? I couldn’t see the gain in anything. “I also just can’t leave him here alone.”

“What are you talking about?” Hoseok asked, peering up at me through the locks of his hair.

“Jungkook- I won’t just leave him here.” I took in a trembling breath, batting away the tears in my eyes as I looked at Hoseok's straight frown. “He doesn’t belong here Hobi. He should be in Florida...with his family.”

“Jungkook sent money to his brother each month…”

“I know,” Though Jungkook barely ever spoke about him, I knew that his heart would never abandon the only living family he had. Jungkook was just that kind of man. “His brother won’t lack in anything. I’m sure he disapproved of Jungkook’s path but he’s still his blood and deserves everything Jungkook gave his life to.”

Hoseok simply nodded, his eyes lingering on the table in deep thoughts. The night had been hard on all of us. We didn’t even look like ourselves anymore.

“I can find a way to get in contact with his brother.” Hobi offered, his eyes were swollen, his smile vanished into a never ending pout. His face was discolored and pale, it was as if the light had been drained out of his soul.

“I’ll take care of all of that. You’ve helped enough Hobi. Thank you.” I reached my hand across the white, cold table, placing my hand above his own. He squeezed my fingers in his grip and nodded his head. “I need you to look after Yoongi until I get back.”

“All that, that he said,” Hoseok shook his head and sighed locking his eyes with mine. “he didn’t mean it.”

The thing was, Hoseok and I were supposed to know Yoongi better than anyone. I was his lover and he was his lifelong friend but despite all of that, Yoongi didn't look the same. He didn't talk the same- he wasn't the same and neither was I. I didn’t know what I used to be so sure about; If all of my memories of us were safe to rely on.

“I talked to Taehyung,” Jimin said in between the silence. Hobi and I turned to look at Jimin’s form stepping down the stairs. “I explained the situation and he is sending his private jet- it should land in about two hours.”

“Thanks.” I nodded my head and directed my attention back to Hoseok. “You should get some rest before the flight.”

“Sure.” He agreed, knowing that the lack of stress and exhaustion was weighing him under.

As he stood from his chair and I stopped him, pushing his cup of black coffee in his direction, suggesting that he give it to Yoongi so he could sober up sooner. I watched him walk slowly toward his room up the stairs, Jimin patted his shoulder as he walked passed him. I brought the bitter cup back to my lip letting its taste stain my mouth.

“Are you going to take your own advice?” Jimin asked, still standing from his spot beside the stairs. I placed the half empty mug on the table, sighing loudly, before standing to my feet.

“There’s something I have to do.”

I was soon left alone on the main floor of the warehouse. The cold of the floor was freezing up my bare legs as I still was only wearing the dress from earlier. I didn’t hear any movement from the bedrooms upstairs and the warehouse was loud in the silence.

I took the sheet of white paper, placing it on the matching table, resting myself with a pen in my hand.

: A thousand actions or apologies can not bring back the dead. I know because I’ve tried. No words could ever express the void that his absence has brought. I don’t know if there is a God but Death is virtuous and we are all equal in her eyes. In his final moments, he showed great courage and strength. He never feared anything and so I believe he did not fear death at his time.

This money that you are receiving has come from his sweat and his blood. No one other than you has the right to claim what he has worked so hard for. What he died for. Unknowingly, your brother's life was in my hands and it slipped out of my grasp like loose sand. In a way, he was my blood as well. We may have not been blood bound from birth but bloodshed did unite us.

At the end of it all, the only question that remains; was it worth it? You and I have to believe that it was. Though a part of me is frightened to think that it may have been a lost cause. Looking past the resentment that you may feel, he lived his life with a passion and found his own reasons to smile through a world that was so cruel. I’ll leave you those memories and empty feelings to take complete responsibility for the waste of such a precious soul.

Every morning that I ever wake.

Every night I try to escape.

His death will haunt me.

~The Godmother

I stood by the open warehouse door. The cold air and gray light from the rising sun cracked through the opening. It made the entire place resemble a wasted ghostland in an icy glow. Jimin was helping put the last of the luggage in the trunk of his car. Yoongi leaned against the hood of the car and stared into nothingness. We hadn’t directed a single word to each other since our fight just a few hours ago. In all honesty, I could barely even look at him. The atmosphere between us solidified with unspoken words we only kept to ourselves.

Everyone was still in their same clothes, except for Yoongi who had changed out of his dripping wet suit. I hadn’t even looked myself in the mirror but sleep deprivation and constant crying must not add up to anything good. All I could do was comb my fingers through my hair as if that were to make a difference.

“(Y/n)’s phone is turned off and so should yours, to be safe, we don’t know what the police can detect from Jungkook’s phone,” Jimin explained, gently letting the trunk of his car come to a close. “When you land, there will be new phones waiting for you. You can call mine to be in touch with (Y/n).”

No one said anything in response. All I could do was walk toward Hobi and wrap my arms around his slim torso. I buried my face in his chest and wished that everything would be alright. My throat cramped as it did when tears threaten to escape my eyes. His long arms wrapped around me tightly, his chest rising and falling as he took in a deep sigh.

“Let me know as soon as you land,” I said softly to him. Feeling almost scared to pull away in the thought that I would end up alone once I did.

“We should get going now,” Jimin announced before stepping into the driver seat and starting the car engine.

“You need to rest now,” Hobi said as he pulled away from me. His hands running up and down my shoulders as if he was trying to warm my cold skin. I nodded my head and stepped to the side letting him pass to the direction of the car.

As I turned around, ready to see them drive off, I was caught off guard by Yoongi standing right behind me. He now stood in front of me with an unreadable expression resting on his face. His aura was calm but hesitated as he stepped into my space. He maintained eye contact the entire time, his body clearly suffering from the poison he put into his system earlier that night. His eyes were hollowed out along with his cheekbones, his skin was almost a deadly color.

“What have you done?” He didn’t answer my silent question. He closed the space between us and all I could do was look away from his gaze. He tried to grab my hands but I pushed him away, “Don’t…”

He didn’t argue back, he simply leaned in, and planted as a kiss on the round skin of my cheek. I blinked a tear from my eyes as he held the contact. His lips making me shiver violently.

My eyes didn’t open until I felt his presence leave my side. The sound of the car door slamming shut and a soft honk for their farewell. I watched the car drive into the back streets before I moved to close the doors myself.

My body was weak. I barely had the energy to go up the small flight of stairs. But somehow, through my daze, I stood by the door of the room I shared with Yoongi. No one had bothered to pick up the broken mirror and fallen dresser. As tempting as the bed looked, something about stepping through the door frame felt wrong.

Instead, I kept walking over my feet, until I stumbled into the room Jungkook had been staying in. My breathing deepened as my eyes laid on the pieces of clothing that lay scattered around the room. The room had remained untouched and sunlight was coming in clear through the broken blinds. My hand ran over the muted blue sheets, digging out a plain white tee-shirt from the waves of covers.

My tears ran like calm streams, down the land of my cheek and dripping off my chin. I brought the cloth up to my nose taking in the familiar scent of his soap. I made myself comfortable crawling in the cool sheets, my hand tightly wrapped around the fabric.

“Hey! I said wait up!”

I turned back around, halfway down the block from the frat house, to see the same guy, Jungkook- calling after me. He jogged the last few feet with ease, coming to an abrupt halt, standing in front of me.

“Yeah?” I asked as he fixed his strands of long brown hair.

“I never caught your name.” I laughed. Finding it hard to believe that he would actually follow me out all the way out here just for that. Jungkook laughed along with me, flashing me a pair of bunny teeth, to be charming.

“Why do you want to know?” I asked him, crossing my arms over my chest as a summer breeze came in.

“I’ve just- I’ve never seen you around. Knowing everyone is kind of what I’m known for.” He chuckled, reaching up to scratch the back of his head.

“I don’t even go to this University, you don’t have to know me,” I assured him. Simply starting to walk back in the direction of home.

“Well, we have that in common!” He pursued, walking along the side of me. “My brother comes to school here though. I was supposed to start last semester but school isn’t really my forte.”

“So instead you’re just selling pot at frat parties?” I asked questioning his logic.

“We all have our own talents.” He laughed pushing up the sleeves on his arms. The music of the party could be heard even though that we were a block away. “What about you? You’re acting like your doing much better than me.”

“For your information, what you make in a week I can make in a day,” I said a bit defensively. Surprised at me for even bothering to talk to this kid.

“You could be- but not by what you were selling that eighth for.” He smirked, his shoulder bumping into mine as we walked. “I mean yayo has to be selling for way more than that.”

“You see the funny thing is- that’s not any of your business,” I smirked as he rose his hands up defensively.

“Woah, you got me.” Jungkook laughed but all I could do was shake my head at the amusement. “But it could be my business, you know if you ever need help selling. As I said, I’m known for knowing everyone.”

“Thanks but I’ll pass Jungkook,” I assured him.

“Hey! You know my name. Now you have to tell me yours.” He said, walking a few steps further than me, turning his back so that he was walking backwards to face me.

“No, I don’t,” I said reaching into my back pocket, pulling out a cigarette I had taken from Yoongi’s pile earlier.

I held it in between my lips, my hand roamed the pockets of my jeans, in search for a lighter. My head was tilted down, watching the white lighter slip out of my front pocket, Jungkook reached over and pulled the cigarette from my lips.

“Hey!” I complained. He simply took the cigarette in his fingers, tossing it behind his back, not caring where it landed.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be smoking tobacco-” I cut my eyes in his direction, tucking my hands into the front pockets, before refusing to stand him any longer. I continued to follow the street lights that lit up the neighborhood sidewalks but he called out for me once again. “This on the other hand… is a free sample?”

I glanced his way as he reached behind his ear, through his hair, he pulled out a pre-rolled joint. He offered it to me in between his fingers, dropping his eye into a wink for significance.

“No thanks. I’ll just wait until I get home to have my cigarette.” I huffed theatrically. Jungkook shrugged to himself, taking up his own offer and placing the joint in his mouth.

“Can I get that?” He muttered to me, referring to the lighter that my hand laid over in my pocket. I sighed and pressed my lips together, handing him the lighter, with as little eye contact as possible. He cupped his hand over the flame protecting it from the threat of the wind. The fire lit up the skin around his mouth in a warm glow before it extinguished back into the darkness. Jungkook inhaled deeply holding his eyes while he concentrated on his actions. He held the smoke in his cheeks, taking in a fresh breath of oxygen, before bringing it straight to his lungs. “Where do you live anyway?”

“With my boyfriend,” I said coldly. Turning my head as he started coughing after releasing the smoke from his mouth.

“You have a boyfriend and you’re letting me walk you home!?” He gasped dramatically.

“You’re following me!” I yelled in protest. He could only laugh in response, his voice growing to a slightly higher pitch than before.

“You’re trying to get me murdered babygirl.”I hummed, cringing at the pet name.

“(Y/n)- my name is (Y/n),” I said in a matter of correction. Our eyes locked for a moment, as I waited for his response, but he simply just smiled. It was almost shy to himself, he didn’t hold eye contact for long before he brought the joint back to his lips.

I allowed him to walk with me a little longer. Despite his cocky front, he actually seemed pretty harmless. It was kind of pleasant to have a conversation with a stranger with no attachments or worries. For the most part, Jungkook was doing most of the talking but I appreciated hearing his story.

“After my parents died, my older brother took it in his hands to claim my custody,” He continued explaining. He spoke calmly, his eyes focusing in working for his hands, rolling a new joint. “And though I’m grateful, it really put a strain on our relationship- not that we were ever close, to begin with.”

“Opposites?” I asked, stepping slow, making sure our pace matched.

“Polar opposites.” He exclaimed. Before using his mouth to stick down the edges of the rolling paper. “He’s just stubborn and doesn’t think I take my future seriously. The only way I get him off my back is by bringing that money home.”

“Don’t you think he’s going to start questioning how you’re getting it?”I asked, taking the final form of the joint from his hands. “You don’t exactly work normal hours.”

“Nah, like you said,” Jungkook reached over, offering the flame source to me, as I held the joint in between my lips. “I don’t make much, to begin with.”

He held the fire out for me, I cupped the flame and guided it to the end of the joint. The paper caught a blaze continuously burning even after the lighter went out. The loud taste filled my mouth as I held the smoke in, staining my mouth like a bitter cup of coffee. “He’s too busy with work and school to notice anyway.”

Though Jungkook remained at ease as he talked, I couldn’t imagine the pain that he was holding within. He was so young and I could see similarities between us. Our priorities were based on surviving and sadly we were not blessed with many opportunities or useful talents.

“What about you?” He asked between the silence. “What’s your family like?”

“Not really like a family at all, I suppose,” I muttered exhaling the smoke from my lungs. “What remained of them I left back up north when I came to Florida... not something I really like to talk about.”

Jungkook uttered an apology for bringing up such an uncomfortable topic. It could have been his words or the weed but he reminded me of someone I lost. Someone I cared for deeply.

“Well, how long have you been here?” He asked, hoping that topic would be easier for me to handle. He took the joint between his lips and hollowed in his cheeks.

“A little over two years now- I met my boyfriend not long after I arrived,” I said feeling the effect of the drug vibrate my body.

“Love at first sight?” I smiled to myself.

“Something like that.”

It didn’t take much longer for me to be approaching my home, were Yoongi must have been waiting for me patiently. As far as Jungkook went, I left him just over the hill from where I lived. Thanked him for the company and though I had no reason to, I believed I would see him again.

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emospritelet · 6 years

Text

Kiss of Life - chapter 4

In which Belle has a blind date...

AO3 link

Her Saturday shift at the hospital had made Belle tired and sore, and she slept later than usual on Sunday, forgoing her usual run in favour of a brisk walk to the diner for a coffee and bear claw. Mary Margaret and Ruby were chatting at the bar, and Belle slid onto a seat beside them to place her order.

“You look tired,” said Mary Margaret sympathetically. “Long night, huh?”

“It was hard work,” admitted Belle. “I’m enjoying it, though. Feels like I’m doing something worthwhile.”

“Any fights break out?” asked Ruby. “They tend to spill over from the bar sometimes.”

“None that I saw,” said Belle, yawning. “That Keith guy grabbed my arse, though.”

Mary Margaret and Ruby made the almost identical sounds of cats being stepped on.

“Remind me to kick him in the balls next time I see him,” said Ruby.

“Dr Gold threatened to report him to the Sheriff if he did it again,” said Belle.

“Oh, if Emma finds out he’s up to that kind of thing, she’d kick him in the balls,” said Mary Margaret.

“I don’t think you’ve met Emma,” added Ruby. “Blonde. Wears a lot of plaid. Married to Regina Mills, the Mayor.”

“The Sheriff married the Mayor?” said Belle. “That’s kind of sweet.”

“The deputy sheriff’s also a lesbian,” added Mary Margaret. “Mulan. She’s dating Merida, the redhead who works at the Rabbit Hole.”

“This town is powered by gays,” mused Ruby.

Belle giggled, and Ruby slapped her hands on the bar.

“But never mind about everyone else’s love lives!” she said excitedly. “It’s your big date tomorrow! You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, I guess,” said Belle.

“Who are you going on a date with?” asked Mary Margaret curiously, and Ruby grinned.

“I told her I’d fix her up with a book lover, right?” she said, and leaned on the bar, eyebrows twitching as she grinned. “Okay, so his name’s Isaac Heller, he’s a writer, he’s always reading something or tapping away on his laptop when he’s in here—”

“You set her up with Isaac?” said Mary Margaret, in a flat tone, and Ruby spread her hands.

“What?” she protested. “He’s a writer, a book nerd! He could be Belle’s soulmate!”

“I’m not sure I believe in soulmates,” said Belle. “Besides, it’s only a date. A blind one, at that.”

“Well, I told him you’d meet him here,” said Ruby. “Seven-thirty tomorrow, okay?”

Belle tried to recall the last time she had been on a date, remembered that it was almost a year ago, and sighed to herself. After some deliberation, she had chosen an understated outfit: a flared black skirt with a fitted white shirt and little black cardigan. The date was at Granny’s, so at least she would be on familiar territory, and Ruby would be there to step in if it turned into a disaster. She’d had one or two dates like that in the past, after all.

Isaac Heller was a nervous-looking man with a long, thin face, dark hair and anxious eyes. He ordered a bottle of red wine and two glasses, delivered to the table by Ruby, who beamed at him and winked at Belle as she left. It took about ten minutes for Belle to decide that, whether or not soulmates existed, hers was not currently sitting across from her. Isaac was polite enough, pulling out her chair when they sat down, but agonised over the menu choices for half an hour before finally ordering the chicken parm, and then spent ten minutes wondering aloud whether the steak would have been better.

She found that she didn’t have to say much; Isaac told her all about his time travelling in New York and Boston and down into Florida, researching for his new book. He then told her about his agent, who had told him he was the next Hemingway, although whether that was something to be proud of was a matter of opinion, in her eyes. He then moved onto his publisher, who was being, in his words, unreasonably picky about the progress of his novel. Belle had drunk three glasses of wine by the time their food arrived, and while eating gave her something else to do with her hands, it didn’t distract Isaac from telling her the plot of his novel about a disillusioned but brilliant writer having what sounded to her like a midlife crisis.

“So let me get this straight,” said Belle, when he finally drew breath long enough to put a piece of chicken in his mouth. “The protagonist has a gorgeous girlfriend who - apparently - caters to his every need, and he’s still not happy?”

“He’s a tortured soul,” said Isaac earnestly, leaning forward. “Always looking for something better. A perfectionist, you see. He’s so used to excelling at what he does, he assumes that carries over into all areas of his life. I can relate to that.”

Belle almost choked on her wine, and her eyes watered as she tried not to splutter in amusement. She was feeling light-headed, and it was making her lose patience.

“Okay, so Mr Perfect wants the perfect woman by his side while he writes his wish-fulfilment self-insert porn or whatever it is he’s doing—”

“It’s a future New York Times bestseller...” he said indignantly

“Right,” sighed Belle, taking another drink. “My point is - why was she attracted to him in the first place?”

Isaac blinked. “What?”

“What does she see in him?” asked Belle. “Why are they together?”

Isaac stared at her, fingers twitching on his napkin, his mouth open a little.

“Are you saying you don’t believe she could love him?”

“Well, I don’t really know anything about her,” Belle explained, and when he looked confused, added: “I mean, I know what she looks like, that she’s tall - but not as tall as him - and she has the body of a burlesque dancer and a beautiful face—”

“Yes!” said Isaac eagerly, nodding. “You can see her in your mind, can’t you?”

“Well - kind of,” said Belle slowly. “I mean she looks at herself naked and describes herself in detail so there’s that. I can picture her from the description, but I still don’t know anything about her. Other than that she’s very supportive of him and drinks latte and is oddly aware of her own breasts.”

He looked puzzled, and she sighed.

“What does she do?” she asked. “What are her interests? Who are her friends? Does she exist as a character outside her relationship with the protagonist? Is she a whole person or is she just there to get him laid and provide some manpain when she dies?”

His mouth fell open.

“How did you know she dies?”

She closed her eyes, reaching for her wine again. Something told her there wouldn’t be a second date.

Belle sighed, pressing her palm to the small of her back and stretching. They had been short-handed the past few days, and she had worked more hours than she had planned. Her entire body ached from rushing around and carrying supplies in her first week of work, but it was a good sort of ache, the kind that came from hard work that meant something.

She still had three hours left of her shift, but Dorothy had taken one look at her and told her to go get some coffee. She hadn’t objected, and she rolled stiff shoulders as she made her way to the cafeteria, smiling her thanks and handing over some cash in return for a mug of coffee and a maple pecan Danish. She turned away, glancing around in vain for a vacant table. The place was full of hospital staff chatting over coffees and tucking into cake and sandwiches, and there was only one table with a single occupant. Belle sucked in a breath as she saw that it was Dr Gold.

He was sitting with one elbow on the table, a cup of coffee steaming in front of him and his finger and thumb rubbing at the bridge of his nose, as though his eyes were tired. She suspected they were; he had been on shift when she had arrived, and would no doubt be there long after she had gone home to crawl into bed and think about how it might feel to kiss him. Which seemed to be the uppermost thought in her mind every night since she had started working at the hospital.

She made a decision, stepping forward quickly to stand beside his table.

“Dr Gold,” she said, and he looked up, dark eyes heavy.

“Miss French,” he said. “How are you settling in?”

“Um - okay, I guess,” she said. “Do you mind if I sit down? There’s a shortage of free tables.”

“Oh, of course.” He gestured to the seat opposite. “Be my guest. I’ll be leaving soon, anyway.”

She slid into the seat, setting down her coffee and Danish.

“We could split it, if you like,” she said, and he glanced at the pastry with a spark of interest in his eyes, but shook his head.

“Coffee’s all I need.”

She privately thought he could do with eating a few decent meals and working fewer hours, but she said nothing. She tore off a piece of the pastry, putting it in her mouth and licking sticky glaze from her fingers. He was eyeing her over the rim of his coffee cup as he sipped at it, and she sucked a few crumbs from her thumb.

“Apologies for my messy eating,” she said.

“That’s quite alright.” He set down his cup. “I’ve seen you running around the place, I suspect you could use the energy.”

“Yeah.”

She tore off another piece and popped it in her mouth, making a noise of enjoyment at the rich taste of the buttery pastry and the maple-coated pecans. Dr Gold took another sip of his coffee.

“How are you enjoying working here?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s been - well, it’s been hard work, and I feel like I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but it’s been fun,” she said, and he gave her a tiny smile.

“Well, the feeling of not knowing what the hell you’re doing never fully goes away, if it’s any comfort,” he said.

“But you’re a doctor,” she said. “The doctor, from what I hear. The most experienced in this place.”

“And none of us are infallible,” he said. “More’s the pity.”

He drained his cup, setting it down with a clunk, and pushed to his feet with the aid of his cane.

“I’ll leave you to your snack,” he said. “Good evening, Miss French. And welcome aboard.”

He shook back his hair, nodded to her once, and strode off with his swift, limping stride. Belle watched him go, sighing to herself. Her crush on the man was intense, all-consuming, and apparently wholly unrequited.

#fic: kiss of life #rumbelle fic #my fic #dr gold x candy striper belle

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the-names-hell666 · 6 years

Text

Car Crash AU

Summary: It was a perfect night. Roman and Virgil were going on a date, and Roman had something special planned. All of it is ruined as time seemed to slow. (I suck at summaries, sorry)

Word Count: 3,149

Pairing: (main) Prinxiety, (background) Logicality

Warnings: Major Character Death(s), abuse, panic attacks, hospitals, car crashes, drunk driving, shooting, heartbreak. (If I missed any, let me know!)

It gets really dark, so read at your own risk.

(If you want to be added to the taglist, just ask!)

Roman, a Senior at the University of Florida, was tapping away on the steering wheel of his brand new red sports car. His boyfriend, and hopefully, soon to be fiancée, Virgil, was sitting in the passenger seat, changing the station of the radio. The song ‘High Hopes’ from Panic! At the Disco came on and he turned up the volume. P!ATD was one of his favorite bands. Roman knew this and smiled when Virgil started to sing lightly with the lyrics. In Roman’s opinion, Virgil had the most beautiful voice when it came to something he was passionate about.

It was night out and the perfect mood for what Roman had planned.

They came to a stoplight and their light had just turned green. Roman kept going but didn’t see the car that was going 70 mph (50+ over the speed limit) about to ram into the right side of the car. He couldn’t react in time when Virgil unclipped Roman’s seatbelt and reached over to unlock the door. He did it just in time to push Roman out of the car, but before he did, he gave him a kiss. A final kiss. Roman rolled out of the car while the car still went.

Inside the car, Virgil was trying to unclip his own seatbelt, but it was locked. He looked to his right at the approaching car and froze.

Time seemed to slow for the two boys.

Virgil watched as the headlights of the other car got closer until they were hitting the side of the car.

Roman couldn’t hear anything and his vision went blurry as he watched the car his boyfriend was in get pulverized and roll over.

The crash echoed throughout the whole town.

Some people that were nearby went to help Roman stand up, but he was about ready to pass out from the surprise and sadness welling up inside him.

The world went black as he fainted.

There were some people on the sidewalks that had seen the car crash and the man that was shoved out of the driver seat. Some went to the side of the man, at least three called the police and an ambulance, and some brave souls went into the wreckage of red scraps and a black hood-smashed vehicle to try and help any survivors.

Women were hurrying their children inside houses or gas stations to avert their gazes.

Two men went towards the black vehicle that had flipped over once and dragged out the unconscious driver, an ugly man with a small stream of blood running down his face and possibly a dislocated shoulder.

Three other men went towards the, now flaming, red scrapped car to try to retrieve the passenger. The managed to cut his seatbelt off and carefully drag him out. The boy was a bloodied mess. His scalp was cut open, his skull cracked. His entire right side was most likely broken and maybe some of his left. He was losing a lot of blood. There were probably way more injuries, but they would leave that to the doctors once he was in a hospital.

Sirens were heard in the distance and they were approaching fast.

Five police cars and two ambulances arrived at the wreckage. Two tow trucks were right behind them.

The nurses from the ambulance put Virgil on a stretcher and loaded him into the ambulance. The other nurses went to the other man and patched him up rather quick. They set his shoulder while he was still unconscious and bandaged his head. They would have to check for a concussion and internal bleeding later. They loaded him into the other ambulance and drove him to the hospital.

Police officers talked to eye witnesses that were in the area and thanked the five men that got the two men out of the wreckage. Some police officers checked over Roman for any injuries but found that he only had some minor scratches. Roman was still unconscious, so they took him to the police station where he would explain what happened.

From what the police gathered, the red sports car was driving along at the normal speed limit and its light was green. Then, out of nowhere, a black Lincoln had come out of nowhere, way above the speed limit, ran a red light, and crashed into the red car, resulting in the wreckage.

Many people had gathered to see what was going on and silently prayed that the boy from the red car would be alright.

Roman awoke to a blinding light in his eyes. He squinted to see through it and blinked a couple of times. He felt like he had been pushed out of a car.

Oh, wait…

He had.

Virgil! Was his first thought.

His eyes shot open and he looked around in a panicked state.

He was in a room with a mirror on one of the white walls and a door next to the mirror. He was sitting in a steel chair in front of a steel table, but he was not handcuffed.

The door opened to reveal a lady with light blonde hair pinned back in a bun. She was in a grey business suit and black heels. She held some papers and walked forward, sitting across from Roman.

“Roman Prince?” She asked. Her voice was smooth and calming, but it did nothing to calm Roman down. Where was his boyfriend?

“Y-Yes that’s me. Where’s Virgil?” He asked. Virgil was his main focus right now.

They lady’s eyes softened, and she reached forward to put a hand on Roman’s shaking one.

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but,”

Please don’t say he’s dead…

Please… Roman thought.

“Virgil Knight is in the hospital.”

Roman felt a smidge relieved that his boyfriend wasn’t dead, but panic shot through him when he heard the word ‘hospital’.

“Hospital? Is he- Is he alright?” Roman’s voice was shaking now, and so was his body. He felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

“I can’t say. The doctors took him into the ER but apart from that, we haven’t heard anything.”

Roman’s heart sank. The ER?

“May I ask you a few questions? About the crash?” The lady asked.

Roman numbly nodded. He was supposed to propose tonight…

“What is your relationship with Virgil Knight?”

“He was my boyfriend, soon to be fiancée…” He trailed off.

The woman had even more pity in her eyes now. Roman didn’t want pity, he wanted to see his boyfriend.

“I’m so sorry…” The woman straightened back up. “Is that where you were going tonight? To propose?”

Roman nodded. He hung his head low and let the tears fall.

He may never get the chance to propose to his love.

The lady had asked more questions and Roman had cried some. She finally let him leave and had a police officer drive him to the hospital. Roman was grateful for that.

He rushed through the front doors of the hospital, startling the receptionist.

“Where is Virgil Knight?” He asked her.

The woman stuttered but regained her posture and replied.

“He is in the Emergency Room right now. If you are here to see him, I am afraid that you must wait.” The woman, whose nametag red Janet, looked up to see a tear stained face. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Would you like to call anyone?” She offered.

Roman nodded and was handed a phone. He dialed Logan’s number, knowing that if he called one, he would get two.

After two rings, Logan picked up.

Hello?

Roman just cried. His voice was racked with sobs as he tried to form words.

“L-Logan- Vir-gil- h-he- ER-“ He tried.

Logan seemed to get the message and asked for which hospital he was at.

“St. Joseph Hospital.” Roman said after trying to cease his sobs.

We’re on our way.

Roman hung up the phone and sat down on a padded chair. He cried to himself for half an hour until Patton and Logan showed up.

Patton was bawling his eyes out while Logan looked around the Waiting Room, looking for Roman.

Roman was hunched over in a chair, hot, fat tears rolling down his face. Logan went over to him, with Patton in tow, and placed a hand on Roman’s shoulder. Roman looked up, hoping to see the one person he wished to be okay, but instead faced Logan.

New tears started falling out his eyes and his face contorted into one of hurt.

Logan knew how to comfort, from the many articles he read, and started to rub circles on the crying male’s back while Patton enveloped him in a hug. Roman held on to Patton to help ground him to reality. His head was coming up with so many outcomes, good or bad, and he couldn’t stop them.

The three sat there for almost three hours, making it around 1 in the morning. Their eyes were getting droopy, but they wanted to stay awake in case there was any news on Virgil.

After another hour or so, a door near the receptionist area opened. A nurse in clean, baby blue scrubs stepped out. He looked down at the clipboard in his hands and called out, “Anyone here for Virgil Knight?”

Roman immediately stood up at the mention of Virgil. He sped walked towards the nurse.

“I am.” He said.

Logan and Patton were right behind him. “So are we.” Logan added.

The nurse looked confused for a second.

“Any family members?” He asked.

Roman looked at his shoes.

“We’re the closest thing to a family he has.”

The nurse’s eyes saddened and started leading through the doorway and down the hall. They walked for a few minutes until they ended up at a light-brown door. On the door was a nameplate. It read ‘Virgil Knight’.

Roman wanted to barge into the room but was held back by Logan and the nurse. Logan placed Roman’s hand on his chest and took a deep breath, indicating for Roman to do the same.

Roman took a deep breath and turned the doorknob.

His breath hitched at the sight of his boyfriend.

Virgil was on a white (slightly red) hospital bed. His head was bandaged and propped up with pillows. He was in a hospital gown, but his right side was completely bandaged with gauze and casts. Virgil was hooked up to many machines such as heart monitor, breathing machine, IV tube, etc.

Roman fell to his knees and sobbed some more. His tears seemed never ending.

Patton and Logan helped him up and moved him to a chair near the bed.

“He’s semi-stable, but he’ll need to be here for a while.” The nurse said.

The nurse exited the room and closed the door, leaving the four men alone.

Roman gently and shakily took Virgil’s left hand in his.

He started to sing in a broken voice. It was their song.

“You know I want you It's not a secret I try to hide I know you want me So don't keep saying our hands are tied You claim it's not in the cards Fate is pulling you miles away And out of reach from me But you're here in my heart So who can stop me if I decide That you're my destiny?

What if we rewrite the stars? Say you were made to be mine Nothing could keep us apart You'd be the one I was meant to find It's up to you, and it's up to me No one can say what we get to be So why don't we rewrite the stars? Maybe the world could be ours Tonight…”

Now, it was Virgil’s turn to sing. Roman knew it was a long shot and he didn’t expect Virgil to answer.

Virgil stayed unconscious.

The three stayed the night at the hospital after calling the University and telling all their teachers that them and Virgil wouldn’t be there for a while. The teachers understood but expected the three back in two weeks. Virgil would come back once he was better.

Logan went to their apartment to grab some changes of clothes and some breakfast. He went because Roman didn’t want to leave Virgil’s side and Patton was too emotional to drive.

Roman had started petting Virgil’s hand while softly singing different songs. He asked Logan to bring his guitar, so he did.

Roman played the soundtrack from ‘The Black Cauldron’, Virgil’s favorite Disney movie. Roman looked up from time to time and saw that Virgil’s hand twitched.

Roman froze.

Virgil’s eyes fluttered open a bit, but then closed again. He tried to move his right arm, but gasped in pain, and moved his left. He moved his hand, so he was shielding his eyes from the intense lighting.

Roman moved closer to the bed while Patton went to dim the lights. Logan rushed out of the room to get a doctor or nurse.

Virgil opened his eyes a bit more and looked around.

Wait…

This wasn’t his room…

Where was he?

Oh, no…

Virgil’s heartrate accelerated, and his breathing was uneven. He was on the verge of a panic attack.

Roman grabbed his left hand, gently but firm, and made symbols on Virgil’s palm. Virgil recognized the symbols as 4-7-8, his breathing technique.

Virgil tried to follow the pattern, even though one small breath hurt. His lungs hurt from the hyperventilating from earlier.

Three people burst into the room, which made Virgil go into panic mode again.

Roman moved to stand in front of Virgil and their eyes met. Roman reassured him softly that ‘It will be okay’ and ‘They won’t hurt you’, to which Virgil calmed down a bit. He was still wary of the unfamiliar people as they moved around him.

Virgil nearly lost it when they pushed Roman out of the room. He couldn’t speak so he made grabbing motions towards his boyfriend. The people, which he concluded to be doctors, still pushed him out. Two of them gently pushed Virgil to lay on the bed again. They flashed lights in his eyes, to which he squinted. They checked his pulse, blood pressure, and other things Virgil lost track of.

Virgil was zoning in and out of reality but then noticed that one of them was looking at him and moving their lips. They were trying to speak to him, but he couldn’t speak.

Did it just get darker in the room?

Why are their faces blurry?

Where’s Roman?

Roman tried to fight against the doctor pushing him out and Logan pulling, but it worked to no avail. He was back in the Waiting Room.

Virgil woke up.

A spark of hope lit inside Roman until it was a small flame. Roman slightly smiled.

Virgil would be okay.

He looked at Patton and Logan, then noticed another figure was in the room.

It was a man. His head was bandaged, and his arm was in a sling. He looked familia- oh! It’s him!

Roman stomped towards the man.

The man looked up surprised to see a fuming male storming towards him. He stood up to face the angry college student with a fake pity face.

Roman had tears in his eyes again, but his face showed rage.

“How-How could you?! Your light was red!” He shouted.

Logan grabbed his arm before he could maul the man.

“Our light was green! You had to stop! How-“ Roman got quieter. “Why?”

The man rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, kid. I was drunk.”

Roman got angry again. This man wasn’t remotely sorry for what he had done. Logan was trying his hardest to hold Roman back, and Patton had joined.

The man was in a relaxed stance with a slight tension.

Logan spoke up. “If you are here to see if Virgil will press charges he won’t. He couldn’t do that to anyone.”

It was true. Virgil was a nice kid once known. He would never intentionally do something to hurt anyone, mentally, emotionally, or physically.

The tension in the man’s stance relaxed. “Nice knowin’ ya, then!” The man practically skipped out of the waiting room.

Logan and Patton were about ready to let Roman go against their better judgement. This man was an asshole.

Roman, Logan, and Patton had gotten word of Virgil’s condition. Apparently, he had some major internal bleeding, a major concussion, some shattered bones, and more. It was a miracle that he even woke up.

Then, the doctor said something that Roman couldn’t believe.

Virgil was in a coma.

Roman’s world fell apart.

His sweet, loving, boyfriend was in a coma.

Roman couldn’t feel anything. He was numb from the emotional pain he was in.

The man had walked out to his car. He had to be sure that the ‘Princey kid’ wouldn’t press charges. He was sure that the kid in the hospital bed wouldn’t make it, but he had to be sure that both people were out of the equation.

He set up a plan to kill them both.

Virgil saw a light. He saw old memories on the left and right of him and a light straight forward. He couldn’t go backwards, so he opted to go into the light while watching his memories.

The first time he met Roman.

Their first date.

Patton and Logan finding out about their relationship.

And all the bad memories too…

His mother and father abusing him.

His older sister abandoning him at a young age.

His mother hanging by a rope.

And more…

Virgil didn’t want to look at the memories anymore.

He started to run. He ran as fast as he could to reach that light. The light would help him, right? It would save him?

He ran into the wall of light and was met with pearl-white gates that opened for him.

He walked forward.

On the outside, Virgil was flatlining. The doctors tried to restart his heart. They started with CPR, but once that didn’t work, went to the defibrillators. They tried for about thirty minutes before they proclaimed him dead.

The doctors had told Logan first, he was the least likely to break down. Logan told Patton, then Roman.

Roman couldn’t take it, he ran. He ran until he was met with a bridge over a flowing river. The water was murky.

Roman cried. He broke down and sobbed.

No…

NO!

WHY? WHY VIRGIL? WHY NOT ME?

Roman screamed his throat sore. He didn’t notice the car approaching.

He didn’t notice the group of me exiting the car with one holding a revolver.

He didn’t care when two of the men grabbed him by the arms and pin him to the ground.

He was overjoyed when the third holding the revolver shot him straight through the head.

I’ll see you soon, mi amor.

~~~

Taglist

@grey-blogs

#sanders side fic #car crash au #major character death #read at own risk #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders

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