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neonponders · 3 years

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*sigh* catch me projecting on a Saturday.

I read this post ( @lazybakerart you wizard - ALSO IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY?????? HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹) and am now thinking about a sugardaddy!Billy with an ace!Steve. (*emphasis on grey ace*)

* Please nobody attack me for writing about leather fashion. I’m vegetarian and it’s fiction. Live a little. *

Read on ao3 ~

🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

Steve just kind of stared at the box on the restaurant table. It wasn’t a ring box, but it was velvet. Goodness knew how many of these he’d seen in his life.

Steve knew wealth. He knew money, and all of the material variations therein.

He’d gotten pedicures with his mother before his father declared such a thing unfit for a boy coming into puberty. If you look like a man, act like a man. As if men didn’t have feet, or something.

Then he went to the salon. That wasn’t so easy to take away. Ventures with her son seemed to be the only things keeping Mrs. Harrington from being connected to her husband’s hip, so Mr. Harrington let them both have this one. Steve, fresh out of graduation, being given a hairdresser’s chair to accomplish summer-fresh highlights.

Mrs. Harrington was also the type of woman to enjoy shoes. Everyone has a thing. For some, they had bags. Others, jewelry. Vintage furniture. Designer wallpaper. Mrs. Harrington enjoyed shoes. It was where Steve learned to carry a woman’s bags, but he didn’t stay outside of the store. He learned how to clean suede, the difference between a 130 So Kate and an ordinary heel. What fetish meant in terms of fashion. He can convert heels sizes in millimeters to inches faster than a cashier calculating change.

Tommy and Carol had joked about Steve’s father having a different kind of fetish. Nothing to do with fashion, and everything to do with sex. Steve had foolishly let them into his mother’s bedroom and they were having a field day with a shoe closet that cost more than both of their houses combined. Still smelling of Nancy and pool chlorine, Steve as good as ended that friendship right there.

Because they didn’t get it.

Mr. Harrington certainly didn’t get it. Could never have such a sexual inclination because he didn’t understand pampering or indulgent interests.

He understood favors. Material apologies.

Mrs. Harrington had a collection of pearls and diamonds that she never wore.

Steve knew she liked opals and pink, pink rubies, because Steve liked opals too. Because he used his father’s money to buy ruby studs his mother actually wore. Because he gets her oldest, broken bracelet with green amber fixed, and she wears it until it breaks again. And then she presented Steve with a thin, gold chain to go around his ankle. With a gleaming, green amber stone flanked by two opals.

The green goes with our eyes, she said. Someone special will see the green in all that brown. It’s why we look good in reds.

Steve was still looking at the box on the table.

“It’s not going to catch fire, the longer you glare at it.”

His dark hazel, creek water eyes slanted up to the man sitting opposite him.

Billy Hargrove.

Stubborn to a fault. Gorgeous as Lucifer with wings freshly burnt off. And just as dangerous.

“I thought I said no more gifts.”

“And I ignored you. Open it.”

Steve went about it like ripping off a bandaid. He sighed at the window beside their booth, wrenching the thing open to see -

Diamonds.

He shut it with a loud clap and set it on Billy’s placemat. “No, thanks.”

The man’s features froze in tolerant stoicism, but he eased the box inside his suit jacket pocket. “You’re a hard one to shop for.”

Steve’s eyes widened dramatically over his wine glass of water. Not because he was sober - he’d willingly pay for an overpriced red, himself, if the handsome asshole weren’t trying to wave his wallet everywhere. “You can stop trying to buy your way into my pants any time you want.”

“If that’s all I wanted, I would’ve stopped three months ago.”

Three months ago,

When Billy breezed into Steve’s life as easily as he had senior year of high school. The two of them certainly deserved some kind of award for having a bizarre history.

Within a handful of months, Billy had arrived upon a turbulent time in Steve’s life, and then left nearly as quickly. Billy witnessed Steve and Nancy’s break-up, Steve’s fall from Hawkins High grace, and even beat his face a little bit. Because that’s what teenage men with bad emotional processing and even worse communication skills do.

Now, almost ten years later, Billy had some kind of empire behind him and Steve, well, didn’t. He had no idea what Billy’s job consisted of, but he got little hints. Mostly the negative space from Billy’s lack of discussing his job told Steve a whole lot.

Steve, who worked two jobs and occasional gigs wherever he was needed. During one such time, while Steve managed the cables and sound boards for Robin’s band, Billy Hargrove sauntered up to him with just as much charm mixed with hauteur as he’d ever displayed.

It wasn’t like meeting an old friend, because they had never been more than acquaintances, and roughly ten years was enough time for a personality to evolve ten different ways.

Steve couldn’t say how much he and Billy had evolved, really, but there was a point in there somewhere.

Maybe it lived in the, “I never expected to see you in a dyke club, pretty boy,” since it was all the coming out either of them needed.

Or the wanton kisses and fervent hands underneath the neon rainbow on the venue’s wall.

Maybe the point sat in the things Billy wanted, and what Steve was reticent to provide. Because Billy was a king who knew what he liked, and seemed particularly talented at walking into Steve’s personal crises like an anniversary.

Steve craved.

But he didn’t know what he craved. What he yearned for. He knew Billy’s kisses made his brain go molten and fuzzy. He knew Billy’s smell brought him just as much comfort, excitement, and anxiety. He knew finally being outside of sex-crazed high school had deflated something in him. The expectations to perform. He knew losing Robin’s stupid game of You Rule / You Suck gave him a secret gift of relief.

But he still craved. He wanted touch but he wanted to be alone. He wanted companionship but he didn’t want sex. But he did enjoy sex, except he didn’t want the expectation of it.

Well.

That was it, wasn’t it?

Billy Hargrove, who could have anyone he wanted plastered to his stupid, unbuttoned chest, had sought out Steve. Steve, king of mixed signals, Harrington. It was only a matter of time before he got his face beaten again. For wasting Billy’s time. For refusing Billy’s advances even though Steve clearly enjoyed Billy’s lips on his neck, and Billy’s hand on his inner thigh. For wanting Billy’s company and flirtation without the rules that finished in the bedroom.

So Steve refused the gifts. The material favors he could’ve sold for a better apartment. Fucked his way to owning a house that his mom would feel comfortable visiting. Be an unfeeling toy who could pay for his mother’s shoes and his own pedicures.

“Steve?”

He turned away from the window and the city’s electric constellations. “Hm?”

“Where’d you go?”

The back of Steve’s throat ached. He looked down at their appetizer plates and decided, “I think I’m going home.” After a second of them both hearing it out loud, Steve said with more conviction, “I need to be home right now. I’m sorry. Thanks for dinner.”

He almost reached for his wallet to pay for his half of the artichoke dip, but reconsidered. He took his old prom tuxedo jacket off on the way to the elevator, waiting for the doors to close before he pressed his face into the old fibers.

It would be easier if Steve didn’t know money. If wealth were a foreign pillow he had never slept on; could be spoiled into never giving it up again.

Like a true mother with a sixth sense, Steve withdrew a package from his mailbox when he returned to his apartment building. Mrs. Harrington’s versions of care packages were fashion magazines, a subscription to The New Yorker, polaroids of her latest closet pieces, and Steve’s favorite candy.

He loved it all. He didn’t need laminated recipes, bags of rice, or resupplied hair products. He went up to his bedroom, stripped down to nothing, and fell into bed with the hefty parcel. Fruity hard candies fell out like confetti, and he stuck a green apple square inside his cheek while he looked through her baggie of polaroids.

Peach suede 130s. Steve felt a warm tickle in his belly at that. She only wore 130s if she was pissed at his father. A woman in 130s walked with the force of a storm, mostly because the damn things were nearly intolerable to wear without a platform.

Another pair of diamond earrings. One of these days, people were going to realize how boring clear rocks were.

Dark, amethyst Miu Mius with the heel and toe encrusted with pearls. Steve’s dad must’ve really pissed her off to warrant that apology.

The magazine subscription had piled up, so he had three New Yorkers to read, but he opened the tome of Vogue first. His mother dog-earred her favorite articles, scent samples, and spreads. She often favored the androgynous and male fragrances. Steve liked that a whole lot. He wasn’t sure if she did that for him because he liked them, or if he liked them because she did that.

He held the magazine to his face as he went to the kitchen, smelling the first fragrance sample while he reached for his cache of boxed cake mix. It was a funfetti kind of night. He rattled the package of sprinkles in his hand while reading about some summer collection where the runway happened in a Greek ampitheatre. Sounded fun. Sounded like a great vacation. Beach, wine, and then modern art fusing with ancient architecture.

Steve didn’t excel in chemistry, but he knew a different kind of magic.

Which didn’t actually include baking. The cake emerged a little dark, but he cut off the burnt top, iced it to glorious, sugar perfection, and took a slice to bed with him. He turned the parcel upside-down for the last of the candy to come out so he could throw the envelope away -

Two bottles of nail polish landed heavily on the bed. Steve lifted the darker bottle to see a purple so ebony he thought it was black until he opened it to see the paint up close.

Purple and peach. To match his mother’s shoes.

Not many people understood his parents’ methods of producing or avoiding affection. But Steve did. He shook up the poison violet and painted his toenails in between forkfuls of cake.

He didn’t hear from Billy the next day.

Or the next.

As bad as Steve felt, he couldn’t say he minded. Nor would he be surprised if Billy never called him again. The idea brought a lonely peace during the commute to work, reading his magazines on the train before keeping them safe in a folder that he stuffed inside his backpack. Even if Steve’s chest felt like a cold balloon, with its latex worn thin and tired, he had his little things to keep him warm.

Then a knock on his apartment door.

Steve answered it with a cheek full of cake, interrupted from making his grocery list of actual nutritional value -

Billy had never visited before. Steve stared at him long enough for him to ask, “Are you going to let me in?”

Steve glanced at the box under his arm and turned into his apartment with a sigh. Billy closed the door behind him as he remarked, “You don’t know what’s in it yet.”

There wasn’t exactly anywhere for Steve to theatrically storm off to. His kitchen was also his living room, and a half-wall partitioned the bedroom off to the side. His apartment was one long rectangle, and Steve remained stuck in the middle of it.

“Billy, I don’t know what you want from me that you think you can get from expensive things.”

“I don’t recall asking for anything in return,” he drawled while removing his coat.

“Don’t take that off,” Steve retorted.

“I’m taking it off.”

“This isn’t going to be a long visit.”

“Would you at least open the damn thing first?” Billy presented the box on the flat of his hand like a waiter’s tray.

Steve knew a shoe box when he saw one. He swatted the lid off the box before he even meant to. He was so tired of this game. Of these rules. He doesn’t want to see some snotty designer sneaker that isn’t to his taste. Some item the rules would dictate he accept without complaint. Or some chunky, foamy plastic, glorified tennis shoe that is over hyped . . .

He sees the red first.

It’s not a sneaker.

Hot Chick heels. 100mm. Black suede on top, red bottom. The leather around the heel scallop-cut like minimalist flower petals.

Steve’s breath has stopped in his chest. The pad of his thumb moved across the soft, matte leather before he stops himself. He tries to look stern when he dares to peek up at Billy, but those water-turquoise eyes are steady on him, absorbing his every reaction.

“These don’t exist in suede.”

Because they didn’t. Hot Chicks came in patent leather only.

“They do now.”

“Louboutin sizes down.”

“Then we’ll have them stretched.”

Steve is losing. Billy knows he’s losing. Billy - he -

“How - ?” Steve begins but stops. He closed his eyes and swallowed, only to flinch a little when Billy grasped his chin, holding him in place as he leaned in to lick the corner of his mouth free of icing.

“Will you try them on for me?”

Steve feels a mixture of defeat mixed in with petulance and vulnerable glee as he warily takes the box to his humble couch. Billy looked at his bed, and then to the kitchen on the other side of the apartment. He strolled into it and lifted the knife for a slice.

Steve, meanwhile, took his time. He opened the paper from where it had floated back over the shoes. He lifted the box to inhale the leather. He took one shoe out just to...see it. Look at it. Read the number stamped on the red arch.

Steve had to remove his socks, revealing his lacquered toes as Billy sat next to him with a plate. He eased the coffee table out of the way, giving Steve room to wiggle his foot into the severe 100mm heel.

They were hardly glamorous under his old, cut-off sweats.

But.

He’d never actually seen his feet in heels before. Never bothered to try to find his size.

Billy handed him the other shoe, and stood up with a ready hand. Steve wiggled into it and accepted his hold as he stood up.

How do you walk in those? he’d once asked his mother.

Trust the heel, my love, she’d answered, strolling around her bedroom in her 130s. If you’ve paid enough for it, it better hold up your entire form, and your dating baggage.

Steve had laughed, but listened to her every word. Move like a wheel barrow. You pivot on your toes, like the wheel, and rest on the heels.

“I’ve got you,” Billy purred when Steve teetered. Just a little.

“Why did you get me these?” Steve had to ask while he began to ease his arm off of Billy’s shoulders.

“Might’ve had a look inside your mail,” he admitted shamelessly. “I thought you might’ve ordered something and I could finally see what you liked. Instead, it’s the one thing I’ve seen you accept.”

“You’re a creep,” Steve declared, but he couldn’t look away from his feet as he strolled around the coffee table.

Billy laughed and sat down to his cake. “This is good.”

“It’s from a box.”

“It’s still good.”

Things . . . changed, after that. Billy came over just to come over. And he pestered Steve with endless questions.

“Do you like these?” he asked with his nose against the magazine pages.

Steve towered over him in his heels, but he’d wash dishes in whatever he wanted, thanks very much. And leather needed to be worn, as his mother taught him. Plastic is trash. If it comes from a living creature, it lives on a creature.

Steve snorted beside him. “My mom crimps those pages.”

“But do you like them?”

“They’re fun in magazines, but perfumes were never really my thing.”

“What is your thing?”

“Right now? You, elbows deep in here.”

Billy perked right out of the magazine only to lock onto the sink. “Because you’re having trouble reaching it now?”

Steve meant to have a witty come-back, but he got caught up in his own giggles. “Yeah.”

Then,

“Can I stay the night?”

Something must have flashed across his face, because Billy added, “Not for sex. I’ve taken the hint, all right?”

Steve slowly unfolded his socks where he sat on the foot of the bed. “Why do you want to?”

Billy wiped his hands on the dish towel and padded across the room to sit beside him. “Because I want to taste you before I sleep. And I wanna taste you when I wake up. I want your snark in my ears all the time - ”

“All the time?” Steve repeated, deadpan.

“Yeah, all the time. I can’t believe it either.”

Billy’s features were warm, unbelievably warm as he watched Steve laugh. “Of course I want to have sex with you. But I miss you when... I miss you all the time. It’s embarrassing.”

Steve rolled his eyes onto him, to which Billy defended, “I have things to do.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the big man in town,” Steve babied, pushing his chest so he toppled backward.

“I am, actually,” he crooned, his hands finding Steve’s legs easily when he straddled him. “I’d work better with you on my desk.”

“My hairy legs and scraped up heels?” Steve threatened breathily, holding Billy’s cheek and jaw in one hand while he leaned over him so all Billy could see was Steve.

“All of it,” he exhaled, and pulled Steve’s head the last inch for a kiss.

Billy’s next gift was a pair of slippers. Plush, soft, and perfect after an afternoon in 100s.

Then he gave Steve a massage. Steve could accept those with ease. The balls of his feet hurt and even blushed a faint indigo from being so unused to heels. The warm attention of Billy’s hands on the arches of his feet, heels, and ankles; as well as the cold tennis balls he stored in Steve’s freezer to roll along his feet.

By then, he’d seen Steve’s anklet. So the next shoe box Steve opened were dark green suede, as poisonously dark as his mother’s violet heels. The toe was bare, but the heel was encrusted with opals. The milky stones flashed green and orange as Steve walked in the 120mm heel.

“How do they feel?”

Steve, with far more mastery over heels now, pivoted on his toes and planted one on the couch in between Billy’s thighs. His warm hand cradled Steve’s ankle immediately.

“What if I shaved for these?”

“Then I’d never take my hands off you.”

“So nothing would change,” Steve giggled, teasing gone as he landed on Billy’s lap. The man underneath him hummed his mirth into Steve’s mouth, his other hand burying in Steve’s hair while he let Steve control the kiss, explore his mouth.

“I thought they’d go with your eyes,” he said when the kiss petered off and Steve kissed his nose. Billy touched the pad of his thumb high on Steve’s cheek. “There’s a little bit of green there.”

Steve let Billy fuck him in those shoes.

Because he finally craved all the way, beyond fear of rules. Beyond the existence of toys. He craved Billy deeper than skin, and Billy gave it to him.

And when Billy got him a pair of 130s . . . blood red and spiked with tiny, crimson points, he let Steve fuck him.

#everything i know about shoes i learned from Violet Chachki #harringrove #ficlet #asexual!steve #sugardaddy!billy #sugarbaby!steve #neonponders #pondermoniums #lazybakerart #happy birthday love!!!#no i don't know billy's job #cover a plot hole with an unreliable narrator~

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not-playable-character · 3 years

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Edit: new link https://archiveofourown.org/works/32099263

ITS DONE!!!! Finally, the RE8 meets RE7 fic is finished and posted! so for everyone wondering and if you didn't figure it out already. The image I posted earlier is the seating arrangement of the gang as they play the game. As always its posted on AO3 and under the cut. I hope you enjoy @ibest14 I never actually played RE7 but I watched a walkthrough to write this.

It was a normal Saturday afternoon when the Winters family got a very strange package. It was addressed to the whole family and had no return address.

“What the heck is this?” Rose wondered aloud carrying the small package inside, “Hey mom! Did you order something online?”

“Not that I remember, why?” Mia asked curious why her daughter was asking about the mail, “Who is it addressed to? Maybe your dad ordered something.” She went and stood next to Rose to look at the package.

“Hmm, I think we should wait for dad to get home to open it, I mean it is addressed to all of us.” Mia agreed with her daughter and went to continue making dinner.

Ethan got home a few hours later and was greeted by his daughter with a warm hug, “Haha, hey there kid how was your day?” He asked returning the hug and picking Rose up.

“It was good! We got a weird package in the mail, mom and I decided to wait for you before opening it.” Rose said leading him into the kitchen after he put her down.

“Welcome home, Hon! How was work?” Mia asked kissing Ethan on the cheek.

“Ugh, Williams was an absolute pain again. He somehow unplugged all of his equipment and disconnected his computer from the ethernet cable again.” Ethan complained sitting down at the dinner table next to Rose. “Chris somehow changed his computer to Arabic and Sal’s computer was changed to have wingdings as the default language and it bricked the whole thing, he said it was an accident, but I think it was one of the dicks that keep harassing him. I told Chris and he’s looking into it.” Ethan picked up the package and looked at the outside.

“Ugh why can’t these douchebags see that Sal is way better than them. Probably just jealous of him.” Rose said frustrated at the harassment her uncle was receiving.

“We should invite him over for dinner sometime, lift his spirits some!” Mia suggested placing a glass of juice down for Ethan. He agreed and thanked her for the juice.

Ethan handed the package back to Rose who tore into the packaging. Inside was a video game box, “Resident Evil? Isn’t that a game from the nineties?” Rose asked confused.

Ethan leaned over to get a better look, “Yeah it is, I played almost all of them, but I’ve never seen that one. It looks like its supposed to be the seventh one, but they only made six that I know of.” Ethan became confused taking the box from Rose studying it, it strangely didn’t have a back cover.

“Weird, maybe they are rebooting the series, but why wouldn’t there be a lot of news about it?” Rose asked. Ethan’s face lit up at the possibility of a reboot of his favorite childhood series.

“Man, I hope so, I always loved Craig Bluemarsh and Leo C. Harrison. They were the best! The whole M.O.O.N.S squad from Badger City. Special Ops turned paranormal investigators was the twist of the decade! And the whole thing with Egbert Walberk and how he possessed himself with countless demons to become basically a god.” Ethan sighs as he reminisces.

“You clearly have bad taste honey because Julie Easter was the best character in the series. The ace of the M.O.O.N.S squad, the one that Walberk kidnapped to force demons into her with a mind control amulet. Oh, and don’t forget Chloe Bluemarsh, college kid turned aid worker for those affected by the demons.” Mia added as she chopped vegetables for dinner.

“Ahh yes, how could I forget! Anyway, this looks like a cheap bootleg or fake. Probably just a prank from Dani or Angie.” Ethan said tossing the case further on the table looking upset.

“Aw man…. That’s lame dad.” Rose says dramatically throwing herself over the back of the chair. “I’m keeping it anyway; the box looks cool.”

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A month after the whole package incident, Rose bursts into the house beaming. “Dad, Uncle Chris just told me that we are having a meeting with the whole gang! We should totally bring that janky game we got and show it off!”

“Whoa, slow down Rose! You’re gonna hurt yourself running around like that.” Ethan says watching his daughter bounce in place. “Why do you think we should bring that thing anyway? I doubt there will be anytime to just sit around and play a game, if it’s even real.” Rose rolls her eyes at him.

“Dad, I’m sure Uncle Chris can pull some strings so we can have a little get together. We never get to see each other all at once!” Rose states, putting on her best puppy dog eyes, “Don’t you want to see the gang, Dad. It would be so much fun. You know how much I miss them all.” She begs.

Ethan can physically feel his resolve crumbling at his begging daughter, always caving into her once she pulls out the puppy eyes, “Fine, I’ll talk with Chris and we can bring the game with us, but you are responsible for the PlayStation and if it gets damaged or broken you have to buy the new one.” He says in his dad voice, trying to be stern. Rose squeals and jumps into his arms hugging him.

“You’re the best dad ever!” She says running off to prepare for their long weekend at Blue Umbrella.

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“Ok, is everyone comfy, I’m about to start the game!” Rose said excitedly setting up the PS4 in the Blue Umbrella lounge room. Everyone was present, Rose even convinced Miranda and Elena to join them after Milena was put to bed.

“I am unsure of what we are even doing sweet thing.” Alcina said settling into her chair near Donna.

“Well, I’m gonna play this weird game I got, maybe Dani can take over if I get tired. We are just gonna check it out, if its good, Great! If not, we can make fun of how bad it is!” Rose explained sitting down on the couch wedged between Daniela, Angie, and Heisenberg with Bela and Cassandra on the floor in front of them. Alcina wasn’t convinced that it would be fun, but she couldn’t deny Rose’s request considering how excited she looked. She sighed and pulled out her reading glasses seeing the small text on the screen.

“Psh, what are you a grandma?” Heisenberg teased. Alcina growled at him.

“Oh, please grow up you child.” She replied trying to de-escalate the situation knowing Rose and her daughters hated when they argued.

“I see making your head bigger didn’t help your eyesight.” He continued to tease sensing her anger.

“I grew proportionally you ignoramus, becoming larger would not fix my farsightedness.” She growled out becoming angrier.

“Guys….” Rose said sadly at the two arguing. Heisenberg immediately stopped his next sentence and turned to give Rose a side hug.

“Sorry kiddo, I forgot you hate it when we fight. I’ll stop, I promise.” He says sincerely as Alcina nods looking guilty, Rose smiles accepting their apologies.

“No more sappiness get to the action I’m getting bored!” Angie cried out from Daniela’s lap. Rose rolls her eyes at the doll’s bratty attitude and begins the game.

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The game begins with a very familiar video to Ethan and Mia and the sight of Mia recording her warning message on the ship.

“What the…. How is this happening? It showed the recording from my eyes, but I never recorded that…” Mia says stunned.

The next scene starts with the sound of a phone ringing and the overhead video of a car driving down a highway. Ethan begins to speak to and unknown man in the voice over explaining how he was contacted by Mia and that she wants him to come and get her.

“This has to be a sick prank! How did these people get that phone call!” Ethan shouts getting more and more upset as the clip plays. Mia places a hand on his arm to comfort him.

“Maybe there will be an explanation later. There has to be….” Mia says trying to calm Ethan.

Rose pauses the game as it shifts to Ethan’s perspective in the car, “We don’t have to keep playing if this is making you guys uncomfortable.” She says to her parents.

Ethan takes a deep breath, “No, no… it’s fine, you were really excited for this. I was just shocked. I’m okay to keep going, as long as you are okay too Mia.” She nods in agreement with her husband clearly rattled but pushing through. Rose nods continuing the game as she walks Ethan through the thick Louisiana swamp towards the Baker house.

The first obstacle they encounter is a locked gate. She moves him down a path leading to a trashed car with camera equipment scattered around it. Looking in they find a scrip proposal for Sewer Gators Ep. 17.

They then come across a broken gate with a sign that says, “Accept Her Gift”, “Oh yeah definitely just walk through that incredibly ominous gate into the disgusting swamp.” Heisenberg says gesturing towards the screen, “I’d just say, ‘sorry lady I’m not that desperate for a wife’ and dip.”

“He has a point dad, I mean really its been three years. Just move on.” Rose says to her father.

Ethan blushes, “Hey you can’t judge a man in love. I had to know what happened.”

“Nah man, just accept the death bro. Totally not worth it.” Daniela says interjecting.

“I’m right her you know.” Mia says scolding them. Rose giggles and continues on. They come across the remains of a fire with Mia’s purse laying there. They then enter the Guest house finding it to be disgusting and in disrepair.

“God, I forgot how gross this place was.” Ethan says wrinkling his nose.

Rose looks around the living room area, finding a hidden chain that opens a hidden room they go through. Exploring further leads them into a flooded basement they are forced to crawl through.

“Oh, please Ethan, I know you are insanely stubborn but the corpse in the flooded basement should have been an indicator to leave immediately.” Alcina says as the dead body floats up in front of them.

“Ok, Ok I get it I’m a crazy person for going on, but can we please stop commenting on it. I’m aware of the insanity.” Ethan replies as Rose comes up into a basement room with a jail cell containing Mia as well as other information on people who were listed as turned or dead. They pick up the bolt cutters and break open Mia’s cell. While they are being reunited Mia acts strangely warning him of the dangers and of Daddy.

“Pft, seriously? Daddy?” Dani snickers at Mia.

“Don’t start. I was possessed by a child obsessed with family.” Mia says glaring at Dani.

Rose follows Mia through the basement where she and Ethan stop to talk about the last three years.

“Come on! This is a life or death situation, get a move on!” Cassandra yells out at the screen.

Rose continues to creep through the basement following Mia as Ethan learning more about her capture as they walk. They come across a living room type area where Mia starts to act strangely, talking about family and when Ethan leaves, they hear her crash through the wall revealing a staircase to the house. They move through the house looking for Mia. They hear crashing coming from the stairs they came from and return to find Mia on all fours crawling up the stairs. She attacks Ethan looking monstrous as she throws him back up with superhuman strength. She then attacks him with a knife stabbing him through the hand. After a struggle she regains control rambling about a strange her as she slams her head against the wall.

“Jesus man, that is hard core…” Heisenberg says in awe. Mia grimaces at the memory. Rose continues on wandering before they are attacked by Mia once again. They fight her off with an axe. “Ethan, my friend, you always have to double check that your enemy is dead. She is definitely gonna get up again, classic horror trope.” Heisenberg says wisely.

“Karl, this actually happened. I wasn’t thinking about ‘horror tropes’. I was focusing on surviving.” Ethan says to him.

“Also, of course I’m going to get up, I’m sitting right here. I’m clearly not dead.” Mia says exasperated.

Rose moves on with the game ignoring them and answers the phone that had begun to ring. “Dad why did you answer the phone? Just leave.” She says as Zoe gives her warning to Ethan. “Oh yeah let’s listen to the random phone lady and not just break a window.” She says rolling her eyes.

They move on solving the puzzle for the stairs catching a glimpse of the not at all dead Mia. Replacing the fuse, they are jumped by Mia again who attacks him with a screwdriver pinning him to the wall before chopping his had off with a chainsaw.

“My god man! How did you keep going!” Sal exclaims looking at Ethan who just shrugs.

They find a pistol in one of the rooms and use it to take care of the attacking Mia as she rants crazily. Finally taking her down, they are ambushed by Jack Baker who punches him in the face.

“See I told you that you should have moved faster, now ‘Daddy’ caught you.” Cass says as Ethan falls over and is stomped on by Jack. They see him being dragged and Mia being carried by Jack, the scene changes to Ethan strapped to a chair with Zoe staples his hand back on. He finally fully awakes to a disgusting family dinner with the whole Baker family.

“Ugh, I miss Momma’s cooking so much.” Mia says reminiscing happily. Everyone stares at her as they see the disgusting meal on the table in game. She blushes, “Before she went fully crazy, she was an amazing cook. Her gumbo was to die for, oh and Daddy’s fried chicken, mmm.” She explains to them. No one seems convinced as the scene continues with Lucas throwing food at him and Marguerite tries to get Ethan to eat, and Jack cuts off Lucas’ hand. Jack comes over and forces the rancid food into Ethan’s face as Marguerite rants and leaves angrily, Jack then cuts Ethan’s face before being interrupted by the doorbell. They escape and flee through the house trying to find an exit. They find a key and are chased by Jack before escaping to the crawlspace.

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They explore the house before a police officer tries to ask Ethan questions.

“Man, that officer is kind of a dick…” Heisenberg says realizing how rude and unprofessional the officer is.

“He was a massive dick.” Ethan says frustrated at the memory of their interactions. They make the way to the garage to meet the rude officer who refuses to take the situation seriously which leads to his death and Ethan’s continued entrapment. “See, massive dick, we could have escaped, but noooo.” He says.

Rose nods in agreement as she avoids Jack in the garage and tries to defeat him with the car. The car crashes and catches fire revealing an on fire Jack who is knocked down by the resulting explosion. They collect the items in the room before climbing up the revealed ladder. Jack stops Ethan and shoots himself in the head with Ethan’s gun.

“I’ll say it again, he ain’t dead. He’s coming back sooner or later.” Heisenberg says again.

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock. This game’s been full of tropes so far.” Cassandra responds to him rolling her eyes.

Rose continues on solving puzzles and making their way through the labyrinthine house avoiding the obviously not dead Jack and the molded that are scattered around the house. They see Jack mumbling to himself about being “her” and talking about how he is going to kill Ethan.

“God he’s so cool.” Dani says as he leaves the room getting looks from the others, “What? He’s a cool villain.”

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The fight with Jack was a bit of a struggle for Rose, but she made it through with Heisenberg, Dani, and Cass cheering her on.

When he finally exploded, both Heisenberg and Dani called out in joy, “Now that’s how you kill a villain!” Heisenberg shouted out with a laugh and high fived Dani over Rose’s head. As they make their way through the house again completing puzzles and finding Grandma in random places.

“She is the one who caused all this.” Alcina says pointing at Grandma. Ethan and Mia looks shocked.

“How did you know that?” Mia asks. Alcina scoffs as if it is obvious.

“She hasn’t had the focus at all, yet she appears at random seemingly following Ethan, who we know is the next victim in mind. She is clearly Eveline.” She says smugly to everyone’s shocked faces.

Rose moved on ignoring the gloating. She came across a trailer in the yard, exploring it revealed that it was Zoe’s home containing some useful items that she ignored moving to leave as the phone rang. Zoe explained about the mold and how to progress.

“Why are you so trusting of this woman, you don’t know her, and she has admitted that she is a part of the family trying to kill you?” Bela asked turning to face Ethan. He opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out, he paused thinking and shrugged. Bela rolled her eyes at him, “Typical man thing.” She mumbled out returning to her original position.

They move on to the old house and Marguerite just as Zoe instructed. Coming across baby dolls strung up from the rafters of the bridge. “Whoever made those should be killed.” Donna said quietly. Everyone looked at her confused. “The look like such poor quality dolls, anyone who cares would never let them fall apart so easily. Cheap plastic is the worst fate a doll can experience.” She explains confident.

“You aren’t upset at the fact that they are strung up, just that they suck?” Rose asks her.

“Of course, you can do what you like with them, but the craft must be respected. These cheap factory made ones are a disgrace.” Donna explains upset at the virtual dolls. Rose mumbles an ok before moving on into the bug infested old house. They make their way through the house avoiding mutant bugs and solving puzzles.

“Gotta say girls, these things really remind me of you three.” Heisenberg says as Rose burns her way through the nests of bugs.

“How dare you compare my girls to these disgusting things! They are clearly superior in every way.” Alcina says angrily defending her girls.

“Thank you, mother, but he has a bit of a point.” Bela says to her mother with Cassandra nodding in agreement.

“Momma has a point though too! We are better than those things!” Dani says beaming at her mother. Cass mumbles suck up under her breath and is smacked by Dani.

Soon after they find Mia in game again, she explains her amnesia and is taken away by Lucas. Not being able to help they continue on through the house again. Eventually they are found by Marguerite who begins to stalk them through the house attacking them with her swarm of insects, insane rants, and vulgar obscenities.

“This lady is something else…” Heisenberg says cringing at Marguerite.

“For once we agree on something Karl.” Alcina agrees cringing as well. The others nod in agreement with them.

They make their way through a secret passageway revealed by the spider shadow puzzle. The wall space was infested which had everyone cringing at the writhing masses of centipedes. They collect the crank and the crow key and try to enter Marguerite’s room before she throws him down the stairs and through the floor. After a short encounter, she falls into the hole and melts into black goo. They collect information on the D series pieces and Zoe calls again, and she mentions they only need the arm piece as she has the D series head. They return to the hole to see the goo gone and a long spindly arm take the lantern needed to progress. They follow the monstrosity to well in front of the old house returning to Zoe’s trailer. They return to a new section of the old house where they are attacked by a mutated spider like Marguerite.

They run around the house, avoiding her swarms and attacks while burning her with the flamethrower and peppering her with shotgun shots to the disgusting nest on her lower half.

“I take it back; you girls are way more similar to the bug lady.” Heisenberg says once she finally dies. Alcina slaps the back of his head and growls at him.

“Momma can we mutate like that too!” Dani says excitedly as Bela and Cass cringe.

“Absolutely not. Do not even think about trying.” Alcina scolds while Heisenberg and Rose chuckle at them.

“Why would anyone want to have a gross bug vagina?” Cassandra turns around asking her sister.

Dani shrugs, “I don’t know, I just think it would be neat.” Rose shoves the controller into Dani’s hands and takes Angie from her.

“No more bug talk, you play, I’m getting tired.” Rose says stretching.

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They find their way into Eveline’s secret room and collect the arm. They go to meet Zoe in her trailer only to find that no one is there. They answer a call from Lucas where he tells Ethan that he has both Zoe and Mia, and that Ethan needs to play his game to save them and get the head. They make their way back to the main house’s dissection room where they pull the snake key out of the dead deputy’s neck hole. Lucas’ voice come out through a speaker explaining they need to find two keycards so they can meet.

“Ohhh, I love this guy! I’m getting so many ideas for new games, hehehe!” Angie says excitedly bouncing in Rose’s lap. Donna glares at the doll chastising her through their mental link. Angie pouts at the scolding.

They make their way through the increasingly molded main house solving Lucas’ puzzles and dodging the molded shambling around. They find the blue keycard and make their way down into a secret room containing the red keycard. Lucas calls again at the phone in the main hall, leading Ethan to a party in the barn.

They enter the barn to thumping music and glowing paint under a black light. They come across a room with a television showing Lucas ranting and waving the D series head around, ranting about how he doesn’t want to give up his gift and that they can only get the serum from him before the television explodes. They make their way through the barn avoiding trip mines and coming up to a locked gate with a passcode. Lucas makes an appearance taunting Ethan and giving him incorrect passwords before a trap springs and a secret door opens up.

They wind through the barn avoiding the traps and taking out the molded arriving at Lucas’ arena where they fight off a giant molded. After the fight they find the correct passcode to enter the birthday room. They solve his puzzles and escape through the hole created by the dynamite. They see a television with Zoe and Mia, Zoe explains where they are before Lucas cuts the camera to himself ranting about nothing. They collect the D series head and leave the barn making their way to Zoe and Mia. They release Zoe and Mia before collecting the completed serum. Just after they are ambushed by a fully mutated Jack.

“Wait he isn’t dead?! I can’t believe I didn’t call it!” Heisenberg calls out as Dani fights Jack.

After a long grueling fight, taking out Jacks many swollen eyes and using one of the two serums to calcify him at Zoe’s request. Walking down the pier they are faced with a choice to cure either Zoe or Mia.

“Well clearly we are supposed to cure mom. Its what dad did in real life.” Rose says.

“True, I did. I did feel bad though, Chris ended up saving Zoe and her uncle, so it all ended up good.” Ethan says.

“Yeah, sure choosing Mia is what really happened but what if we chose Zoe?” Dani asks hovering over Zoe in game.

“No! We can do it later right now we are choosing mom.” Rose says sternly.

“Fiiiiinnnnnee.” Dani whines out giving Mia the serum. They take the raft down the river listening to Ethan and Mia talk about the situation before they come across the wrecked boat Mia and Eveline arrived on. They are attacked by the mold, and they switch to Mia’s perspective as they hear Eveline speak to her through their mental connection.

“Well, this is going to be interesting, I’ve never seen this before.” Ethan says as they move into the ship. They find an unconscious Ethan who is taken by the mold deeper into the ship. They move through the mold infested ship as Mia, getting flashbacks as they move on. They follow the phantom Eveline to a room containing a television where they watch a video tape that blends into them playing through the situation leading to the crash of the ship and the infection of the Baker family.

They see Mia’s partner Alan who explains he is the reason Eveline escaped he explains that she needs to fix his mess and they begin to track Eveline through the ship. They finally come across Eveline in the engine room before she runs off again. They find Alan again in the room next to the one where they started the video tape. As he explains that Eveline is deteriorating, he insults her, and she overtakes him with the mold. The mold then spreads to Mia infecting her. They then see Mia recording the warning video from the beginning of the game. The section ends with Mia being blown off the ship and floating unconscious in the water, before returning to the present with Mia and the Phantom Eveline talking. Making their way to the bridge they use the surveillance cameras to find Ethan trapped in mold in the engine room. On the way there they are impeded by the phantom Eveline and the remaining molded.

As Mia finds Ethan, the perspective swaps back to Ethan’s mind as he speaks to a sane Jack. He explains that Eveline is the cause of all the murders and kidnappings. He says that they were infected when He rescued her from the crashed tanker. Jack also explains that stopping Eveline will stop the mold. Before Ethan awakens to Eveline and Mia arguing. Mia rips him free from the mold prison and gives him the tissue sample before locking him out of the engine room urging him to kill Eveline. They continue through the bayou to a salt mine near the Baker house. They hear a military broadcast explaining a team was sent in to take down Eveline. They traverse the salt mines finding an underground lab with information on Eveline and the E series mold. They use Eveline’s tissue samples to make the E- Necrotoxin that is used to kill her permanently. As they exit the mine, Ethan sees flashes of Eveline as she sends the molded to kill him. They exit the mine into the original room Ethan found Mia in where he has a vision of Mia panicking. He continues to see visions of Mia’s attack on him and Eveline controlling her. They stab Eveline with the serum, and she reveals her true form as Grandma before melting away and mutating into a large monstrosity.

As Dani fights the massive face of Eveline, Miranda mumbles to herself, “Absolutely fascinating. How she responds to different stimuli and the delayed injection of the Necrotoxin.” Rose and Dani scream forgetting that Miranda was sitting behind them.

“Jesus Christ! What is wrong with you! You scared the living hell out of us!” Rose yells at her turning to face Miranda who has a notebook open in her lap. “What are you even doing?”

Miranda blushes at being caught, “I was taking notes on how E-001 reacted and how the family responded to the infection. It is incredibly fascinating that the whole Baker family mutated without becoming one of the shambling molded.”

“Trust me she was about to run off and work more before I stopped her.” Elena interjects into Miranda’s rambling. “Don’t worry, I won’t let her work on the Eveline project outside of simply watching videos.” Miranda’s blush deepens and she looks embarrassed at being called out by her lab assistant.

“Good, no more mind control children allowed.” Dani says rudely turning back to the screen continuing the final fight.

Ethan is thrown from the house and sees helicopters arriving at the house as he is attacked by Eveline. He uses an unknown gun to shoot Eveline calcifying and crumbling her finally. After the battle, Ethan and Mia are rescued by Chris. The final shots of the game are Ethan speaking over clips of marshlands and the reveal of the Blue Umbrella helicopter.

“Well that certainly was something….” Ethan says as the credits roll. Mia wide eyed and shocked nods in agreement.

“So, all that actually happened?” Rose asks her parents, they both nod. “Ok well that doesn’t explain how the heck this got made or why we were sent it or by who!” Rose rants.

“Who cares, it was awesome!” Dani exclaims high fiving Angie who cheers with her.

“Can we leave now? My back is beginning to hurt.” Bela complains standing up and stretching.

Rose boos her, “Fine be boring. What did everyone else think?” She asks everyone left in the room.

“Amazing! Fantastic! Ten out of ten!” Dani exclaims clinging onto Rose.

“It was interesting, very cinematic. A bit tropey at times but it works in its favor. Especially since this technically happened. The villains were enjoyable and empathetic at the same time.” Heisenberg critiques.

“Yeah, whatever it was fine.” Cass says getting up and leaving the room.

“I had quite a nice time, I’m glad you suggested this, Rose.” Alcina says picking up the sleeping Donna. “I’m sure Donna will apologize for falling asleep tomorrow morning. Have a good night.” She kisses the top of Rose and Dani’s heads and leave the room.

“It was quite informative, thank you for inviting me, Rose. I truly appreciate it. Now I must go and review my notes.” Miranda says looking at her notebook as she slowly leaves the room.

“We are actually going to bed, but thanks for inviting us, Rose. We’ll have to do it again soon!” Elena says grabbing Miranda’s arm and taking her notebook.

“I think your mom and I have some talking to do, but you guys have a good night sweetie.” Ethan says getting up before kissing Rose on the head.

“Yeah, outside of the horrifying content of this ‘game’ it was fun. Have a good night honey.” Mia says following her husband to their room.

“Alright seems like the party is dying down and someone has to get Sal to his room. Seems like he and Donna can’t stay up late like us cool kids.” Heisenberg laughs out shaking Sal awake. Sal stands up groggily and leans ion Heisenberg as they leave to their respective rooms.

“Lame everyone left. You want to stay up or are you hitting the sack too?” Dani asks Rose.

“I think I’m going to bed too. I have a lot to think about.” Rose says hugging Dani, “See you in the morning Dan.” Dani decides to follow Rose and they head to bed.

In his assigned quarters, the Duke watches the group scatter to their rooms for bed, “I’m glad they enjoyed my little gift. Hopefully, it answers some questions for them.” The Duke says to himself chuckling.

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five-rivers · 4 years

Text

Interview with a Ghost (part 5: Buried)

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4)

"What?" said Captain Jones, as Collins and Paterson finished explaining their understanding of the situation to him. "What? What?"

"That was my reaction, too," said Paterson. "Just, you know, internally."

Jones waved one hand, the other supporting his forehead.

"Er, sir?" said Collins, leaning forward, trying to catch the captain's eye. "How should we, you know, proceed on this? I don't think there's any precedent."

The captain bit back a groan. "No, there isn't. He was insistent that the Fentons, his parents, didn't do anything to him?"

"Yeah."

"But it still can't be- can't be healthy for a ghost or- or whatever he is to be there," said Jones. This was making his head hurt. "They have weapons, and even if it was an accident, he died and they- No one noticed!"

"That is pretty messed up," agreed Paterson.

"That's got to be child neglect, at least, right? Negligent homicide?"

Collins nodded. "We can't really charge them with that, though, can we? Not without revealing he's a ghost and getting the GIW and whoever stole the body coming down on us."

"That could just be something Phantom's saying, though," said Paterson. "We don't know if it's true or not."

"It felt true," said Collins. "He sounded like he was actually scared."

"But can we just let a kid- two kids, with his sister- be in a situation like that? Even if one of them is dead. Especially if one of them is dead. Or whatever Fenton, Phantom, whatever, is claiming to be."

"He didn't really claim to be anything, really," said Collins.

"Look, I already have a headache as it is. What it comes down to is, I don't want a kid to be living under the same roof as people who regularly and publicly shoot at him."

"So, what do we do?" asked Collins. "He doesn't want to leave, and I don't think we can make him, physically."

"No, we can't. But does he know that?"

"I think he's aware of his laser murder powers," said Paterson.

"He kept coming to talk to you, though," said Jones. He massaged the bridge of his nose. "There's something here..." Suddenly, it all came together. He clapped his hands. "He wants to keep his secret from the public, right? That's our leverage."

"Leverage?" asked Collins, dubiously. "Captain... he is still a teenager."

"I know, I know, but hear me out. We tell him, he has to let his parents know, and his parents, they have to make their house safe for him. If they're reasonable, they'll do it. If not, we can get them for, I don't know, going crazy and thinking their kid is a ghost, or having weapons all over their home. Obviously, he isn't. That's the position we'd maintain." Jones took a deep breath. "No need to expose him publicly, and, as long as he isn't, he'll have to act like he's human, right? If he wants to maintain the illusion?"

"I guess that would work," said Collins. "But... do we have to get child protective services involved? I don't see that going well."

"Not if everyone is reasonable," said Jones, a crazed look in his eyes.

"Hold up," said Paterson. "Doesn't this hinge on getting him to, you know, tell his parents?"

"Weapons. Home. Around children. And- We'll agree to bury the rest. Tear up documents. Hide everything. Cover for him. We already know what killed him. What's the point of bringing it into the light?"

Collins and Paterson both nodded slowly. "I'll call him," said Collins.

There was a knock on the door. The three glanced at each other.

"Come in," said the captain.

One of the officers stuck her head in. "Sir?" she said. "The mayor is here to see you."

Danny would have been at home, plotting with Jazz about how to get his body back, but, no, Skulker had to show up, again. He should have wrecked his suit instead of just sucking him into the thermos last night.

"Hah! Ghost child!" shouted Skulker. "Today I will have your pelt! I have new-!"

Danny screamed in frustration, the harmonics of his voice almost touching a ghostly wail. "Can you leave off about my pelt for like five seconds?" demanded Danny, attacking more aggressively than was his usual wont. One of Skulker's arms flew off his body, clattering on the tiles of a nearby roof. "Didn't you have enough of that, helping Vlad steal my corpse yesterday?" There, after days of dancing around the word, he had finally said it.

"Wait, your what?" asked Skulker, pirouetting awkwardly to avoid another barrage of ectoblasts.

"My. Corpse!" screamed Danny. "You helped him steal my corpse!"

"You don't have a corpse, you're still alive!"

"Shut up!" It was a good thing they were so far up. Even at the volumes they were speaking, they wouldn't be overheard. "You don't know anything! I'm half dead, so I have half a corpse, and I had to bury it, and then the police found it, and you helped Vlad steal it!" Danny was basically in tears at this point, hands clenching the metal of Skulker's chest so hard it buckled and warped, holding the unfortunate ghost above his head.

A number of complicated emotions passed over Skulker's face. "Uh," he said. "Time out?"

"What?" snarled Danny. He was more than ready to rip Skulker apart.

"Your body, whatever there is of it, did Plasmius really take it?"

"He basically gloated about it to my friends," said Danny.

Skulker's face twisted up, the metal plates it consisted of glinting in the sunlight. "Disturbing the remains of another ghost is... distasteful, at best." He shifted, obviously trying to get out of Danny's grip. Danny held on, tighter. "Let me go," he said. "I'll spread the word. There won't be a ghost in the Zone who'll work for Plasmius after this."

Danny sniffed. "I want it back," he said.

"Of course you do," said Skulker, nervously. "Just- let me go, alright, ghost child?" He paused. "Phantom?"

Danny relaxed his grip. Before Skulker could recover, he whipped out the thermos and sucked the other ghost in.

"I'll let you go," he grumbled. "Right into the Ghost Zone."

Jones did not like Mayor Masters. A complete outsider, a stranger to Amity Park, the man had somehow wormed his way into the mayor's office. Jones had always suspected bribery, but had no evidence.

This visit of his... it was suspicious. Incredibly suspicious. The timing felt rotten. Masters had barely set foot inside the station before this.

Well, the timing and the questions he was asking. Jones was glad he had told everyone to deflect questions about the body and Phantom beforehand, no matter who was asking.

Jones fixed a grin onto his face. "I'm sorry, Mr. Masters," he said. "We can't discuss ongoing investigations."

"I think," said Masters, "that, as mayor, I am exempt from that rule. I am, after all, your boss."

"That's true," said Jones, "but this case is especially sensitive, and everyone is a suspect."

"I can't possibly be," said Masters. "I didn't even live here two years ago. I believe you are dancing around the subject, sir. Let us not have our personal feelings get in the way of things, hm?"

This bastard- There was no way he should have known that particular detail. Not without suborning the ME or her assistant.

Or stealing the records. The initial reports had gone missing with the body, and the computer system had been hacked.

Jones pressed his teeth together so hard they ached. He could feel them grinding inside his head.

"Why don't I give you an overview of what we know so far?" he asked, voice as sweet as he could stand to make it. "We'll start with Cameron over here. He's the head of our cult division, and a real wizard with computers."

If anyone could drive the man off, it was Cameron.

"I didn't think babypop even had a corpse," said Ember, crossing his arms. "Are you sure he isn't just delusional?"

"He could be," said Skulker, "but that's not the point. He believes it. Do you really want to be dealing with him as a restless spirit?"

"Oh, god, no. He's already such a spoilsport. Can you imagine?" The blue flame her hair was drawn back into shuddered.

"I don't have to imagine," said Skulker. "He tore my arm off."

"He always tears your arms off," said Ember, dismissively.

"He's only going to get worse though," said Skulker, "if it really is his body. If Plasmius is doing anything to it. That anxiety. A person's body should be taken care of properly, not messed about with."

"Hey!" said Technus, who was on the other side of the room, fixing Skulker's mechanical body. "I donated MY body to SCIENCE! I'm perfectly fine."

"Yeah," said Ember. "Some people would disagree with that, but the thing is you chose to do that. Those're the rites you wanted."

"Do you think I, the great TECHNUS, master of all things technological and-"

"No, actually, I don't think you knew," said Ember.

"Ohhhhh! I'll alter all your auxiliary cables, you little-!"

"Can we get back on topic?" asked Skulker, his high-pitched voice cutting above the argument. "We need to get Phantom's body back! Otherwise he'll be completely unbearable!"

The ghosts looked at each other. "Agreed," they said.

Danny leaned over Tucker's shoulder. "Are you sure?" he said.

"Positive," said Tucker. "Sorry, man, but Vlad's super secret super villain stuff isn't online. Your body isn't mentioned at all. Nothing is. His internet enabled stuff is all pretty bland, compared to what we know he's doing. I mean, some of it is kind of sketchy, but it just isn't the same level."

"Anything we can blackmail him with?" asked Sam.

"Not really. We can't exactly say how we got it, after all, so he'd have plausible deniability."

Danny groaned. The groan turned into a long plume of blue mist. Danny growled. "Whoever is interrupting this time-"

"Whoa, calm down, man," said Tucker. "This is pretty normal."

Danny's phone began to ring. If this was those detective he was going to-

It was Jazz. "What?" he asked.

"The ecto-exodus alarm is going off," said Jazz. "Where are you?"

"Tucker's," said Danny. "I'm going to check it out."

"Be safe. Mom and Dad are out there with blasters, and they've notified the GIW."

"Noted," said Danny. He hung up, then turned to Sam and Tucker. "This is a big one, apparently. You might want to stay in."

"Good luck with that," said Tucker, pulling a ecto-rifle from beneath his desk. "I've been wanting to try this baby out."

"Please don't name it," said Sam.

"I think I will!" said Tucker.

"Just don't shoot if we're not fighting, okay? They might not be here to cause trouble. Don't give me that look, I'm trying out some optimism."

Before his friends could say anything about that, he flew up through the roof. From there, he had no problem picking out the crowd of ghosts who had just passed by.

Skulker was leading them. Danny scowled, and flew forward to intercept them, too angry to process whether or not confronting a group of ghosts that large was wise.

"Hey!" he shouted. "I thought you said you'd leave!"

"Chill, babypop!" shouted Ember. "You're a cold core, aren't you? We're here to get your body back."

That brought Danny up short. "Wait, really?"

The other ghosts, largely the rabble of the Wastes, the region of the Ghost Zone right outside the Fenton portal, gave a ragged sort of cheer.

"Yeah. And trash Plasmius's crap."

"Oh," said Danny, taken aback. "He has a ghost shield around his mansion, you know. A human shield, too, before you say I can get past that."

Poindexter floated up, over the mass of the crowd. "He can't keep them up all the time, can he?" he asked adjusting his glasses.

"No, I guess he can't. One sec." He pulled out his phone. "Hey, Tucker, can you find out where Vlad is right now?"

"... and these are the cults that believe ghosts are divine messengers, there's a lot of variety in them, too," Cameron was saying, pointing eagerly at his computer screen.

"Excuse me," said Vlad. "But I don't see how this is relevant. At all. To anything."

"Oh, it's very important," said Collins, nodding sagely. "We got some of our best leads in this case from the cults."

Cameron beamed.

"I am myself quite familiar with the local cults," said Vlad. "If they become relevant, I'm sure I can come back to-"

"No, no, Mr. Mayor," said Paterson, "you won't understand without context."

"I-"

Several dozen ghosts suddenly entered through the roof. Everyone dove for cover.

"Hiya, grave robbers!" shouted a ghost with fiery blue hair. Ember McClain. "Or one grave robber in particular."

Actually, come to think of it, she'd masqueraded as a human for a while, too. Collins was going to have a crisis about how easily ghosts could blend in with humans at some point in the near future. Not today, but before the end of the week. He'd need to talk to a shrink. Preferably one who wasn't a ghost.

Oddly, the ghosts weren't attacking.

The sound of Mayor Masters clearing his throat issued from behind a sizable desk. "What are you here for?" he asked.

"You know, grave robber. We've got a bone to pick with you, until you give back what you took."

A few feet away from Collins, Jones inhaled deeply. He stood up. Collins resisted the urge to drag him back down.

"We don't have Phantom's body," said Jones, "if that's what you're here for."

"We know," said Ember. "That's what this's about. We know who took it, and we don't want to deal with Phantom while he's freaking out over some jerk having his body. So. We're giving an ultimatum-"

"Hey, guys," said Phantom's voice. "I found the shield deactivation button. It was in his car, next to his garage door opener."

"Oh, cool. You trash his car?"

"Nah, I let these little gremlin dudes do it. They looked like they were having fun."

"Whatever, babypop. Let's go get your body!"

As quickly as they came, the ghosts were gone.

Mayor Masters swore, and started for the door.

"Hold up," said Jones, putting a hand on the taller man's shoulder. "Where exactly do you think you're going?"

"To call some competent ghost hunters, since those menaces are clearly after my belongings!"

"Nuh uh," said Jones. "We've got some questions for you."

"Yeah," said Collins, "like why you seem to think that they're going to your house, when they could have been talking about anyone."

"Wow!" said Cameron, smiling. "That was exciting! I'm glad I was livestreaming, like you told me to, Paterson!"

"Well," said Vlad. He paused. "I need to call my lawyer."

"Better make sure they're a competent one," mocked Jones.

Collins was surprised when Phantom materialized in the middle of the room with a long, dark plastic body bag in his arms. So were most people. Across the room, next to the coffee machine, one of his more caffeine-addicted coworkers do a spit take, and Jones burst out of his office in an avalanche of paperwork.

"I want a burial," said Phantom, finally. "A real one, this time."

Silence.

"I think I can arrange that," said Captain Jones.

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay2020 #dannymay 2020 #day 27

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fairyshuuu · 5 years

Text

wild valley pt1 | chanyeol

.summary. Park Chanyeol; sweat rolling down a naked back mixed with motor oil, you; white sugar sticking to your gums at sunset– ice cream flavored. Drugs, booze, money. He’s everything you’re not, the question is – for how long? .word count. 6k .mechanic!au | gang!au | car shop!au. .pairing. chanyeol x reader .genre. romance, angst (smut in the future)

.warnings. criminal activity, mature language .author’s note. i’m so excited to start this series, i hope you’re ready to go on an adventure. if you like this universe, please consider reading everyone else’s works because they are all amazing and you’ll definitely enjoy everyone’s part of the collab! thank you!!

♫ let me set the mood ♫

teaser. part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. part 5. part 6. part 7. (m) part 8. (m)

Though you’ve met people on a daily— flashing through the motions like a flashback, and you’ll surely meet a lot more before the day is over; you’ll only ever meet one person you’ll truly call wild. He carries himself with the force of a wild stallion, the roar of a lion, and is perhaps the only person who can keep up with you. The only person you long to keep up.

In the bright, rising sun, you brush your hair away from your damp neck and look around the dusty street. Crushed cans litter the sidewalk, cigarettes still smoking as they meet the cement. The heat seems to beam up from the earth itself, clinging to the houses and making them slump into themselves. You glance at your phone again, before lugging the heavy suitcase behind you. Blisters fight their way up around your heels, the skin chafed and tender from the travel.

Both sides of the road are lined by houses, both small and slightly bigger, ranging in colors from brown and grey to red brick. Telephone cables are strung low between the houses, and while there is an overdose of them, there’s barely any trees to give any shade. The streets look old, both by color and wear, black streaks covering the pale gray. Across the street, a low hanging black car stands parked— gleaming in the sun. It’s not the only fancy car you’ve seen since arriving.

Before the grey plastered house at the corner you hold, looking up. One of the red roof tiles has dropped and is now laying next to the door, shattered into small shards. You pull your lips tight, before ringing the doorbell and stretching your arms in front of you. The taxi ride from the airport had been long, and you are the first to admit that a soft bed will be your only lover for the next week or so.

Two cars pass while you wait, heavy rumbles falling from the engines as they race down the street. With a creak the door swings open, and before you can process two arms are wrapped tight around your neck. The body crashes into yours without holding back, an excited giggle falling from your lips. Two wet kisses are pressed to your cheeks, before you get enough room to breathe. “Baby sister,” the young woman in front of you sighs, relief dripping from her eyes.

“Hey, sis.” You look over your shoulder, and at the people strolling with their hats pulled low over their eyes, before smiling wide. “Pretty place,” you mouth, pulling up your nose against the tickle creeping up. At your sister’s quick smack to your shoulder, you laugh and grab hold of your luggage. “That sounded sarcastic, but I’m serious. For starting from nothing, you’ve done well for yourself. I’m proud of you, sis.”

She flushes slightly, and brushes her long tan-colored hair over her shoulder, shaking her head. “Just come in, you. It’s been a while.” She takes your suitcase from you, and walks into the significantly cooler hall, glancing back at you every few seconds. Her face is sharper than you remember it being, with some freckles littering her cheeks because of the summer weather. “You must have had it harder than I thought, if you decided to leave after all. I hope… I know it’s not home, but I hope you’ll like it here.” She pats her hand on the wall of the narrow hall while you take off your shoes, and nods to herself. “The people here are welcoming, and kind. I’m sure you’ll fit right in, with that awfully positive attitude of yours.” She giggles when you smile up at her.

“You know I’ve always felt more at home when you were around, Yuna. Don’t worry, I’m sure I won’t get homesick. It’s good to see you again, I missed you.” Your big sister stares for a little longer, before nodding and dragging the case behind her.

“I know,” she mumbles, before cocking her head into the house. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” With her excited steps in front, she leads you up the steep stairs and through another small office-like room, before arriving at a big blue door. It has clouds painted all over, with a coat hanger right in the middle. Your sister smiles, before giving a guilty grin. “You can paint that later. I didn’t get to it yet.”

Though you hum as you push open the door, you smile. “Maybe I’ll leave it. It has a charm.” You both laugh, before entering the small single-person room, cleared out in a hurry. The bed is made with all white bedding, the dresser still half open from the clean. “What, you kicked out your housemate just for me?”

“Oh, that?” your sister grins, before plopping your luggage down next to the door, and looking around the dark purple room. “No, she was moving in with her boyfriend anyway, I just made her hurry it up a little more than planned.” Her smile is small, but the gentle glint in her eyes says enough. “You’re totally welcome here, don’t worry.”

You take a deep breath, before nodding and staring at your feet. “Really though, Yun. Thank you.”

She gives a tight lipped nod, before pulling you close and pressing a kiss on your head. “You’re welcome, Dew.” She looks around the room then, and back at the stairs. “I’ll leave you to get settled in. I’ll order take-out for you, I know how much you love Chinese. Bet it’s been a while, huh?”

“Ever since you last visited, I think,” you nod, stepping more into your new space. You don’t remind her that that must have been more than two years ago. Yuna smiles and pulls her hair up into a ponytail, before gesturing you to get settled. The carpet under your feet is soft but feels cold, as you watch her skip down the stairs. With a deep sigh you bend down and zip open your bag, kneeling before it. All your important belongings are in this one carrier, you think, all memories and all sentiments stitched into the seams.

You pick up the frame on top, and stare at it for a second. Young mom, young dad, little Yuna and even smaller you. They all still smile, which is a foreign sight nowadays. Still, you smile as you put it to your side, and start pulling out your sweaters. Soon this room will feel more like home, you can already feel it. You’ll just have to paint over the ugly purple walls, is all. You giggle when you hear Yuna squeak downstairs, most likely dropping something much like you remember her clumsy self.

You hold out your grey university sweater in front of you, before tossing it on your bed and following close behind. The bed creaks when you land on it with a giggle. You roll over and stare at the ceiling, before breathing in the air of this new city. The thick feeling stuck to your lungs is still very much present— you doubt it’ll fade anytime soon. But still, the smell of mint and the smell of oil are refreshing. You swallow. Everything here smells like gasoline, the cars, the buildings, the people. Soon you’ll smell like gasoline too, and you’re aching to make a spark.

If the garage smells like one thing, maybe he’d say it smells like devotion. The smell of metal, and salt of the hours of hard work spent. It smells of rust, of oil and gas, of fire and of rubber tires, and to Chanyeol it smells like affection. He’s never been one for sentiments, but this place is the closest he has to an offspring, and the suffocating heat that collects behind the metal gate feels like home. The shop is a mess, a total of four unfinished cars in states of disrepair at his hands and at his mercy too.

The one from under which he straightens up from is a deep red mustang, and a piece of crap in his opinion. She’s old and has had multiple changes of parts already, and she’s luckily not his. Chanyeol would rather eat lead than buy a piece of crap like the one standing in the middle of the garage, since he sees the cars he owns as lovers. The 65’ model is a beauty though, despite that, and that’s why he’s putting in so much effort to keep her going. Putting the rusted bolts on the trolley next to him, he runs the back of hand across his forehead and sighs.

Coming from the back room sounds a voice, soft despite the loudness of the AC, and Chanyeol needs to lean back to hear him. “Howzit working out there, Yeol?” The tall, blonde man walks into the room with a rag swung over his shoulder, and ties the arms of his overall around his waist, leaving his chest free. Small beads of sweat sit on his collarbones from being in the back all afternoon. Chanyeol shakes his head as he looks back at the car, before grabbing the rag to clean the thick, black fluid off his hands.

“I changed part of the rear axle and the bolts to get her lower on the floor, but I can’t really do much about the corners,” he mumbles, voice deep. “Byun just needs to ease off the throttle when she under-steers in the turns, I’ve told him before. He’s asking me to fix something that’s isn’t even possible with his car.” His calloused hands tighten around the rag when he finishes, looking over at the younger when he hums.

“You know Byun. He likes to think he’s the main in an action movie. He’s gonna drive that baby into the floor, there’s not much you can do about it, Yeol,” Sehun says. Chanyeol sighs, before nodding and swinging the rag around his neck to pat the hood of the sleek, cherry Mustang. The fingerprints he leaves are like bruises on tender skin, love bites of his passion for cars. If he were asked to explain, maybe people would find it weird, but Chanyeol knows Sehun understands. The kid has just as much love for cars, if not more.

Running a hand through his icy, white hair, Chanyeol points towards the main door of the garage. “I’ll finish up some of the engine stuff later, I’m gonna go grab something to eat at 6th. You coming?”

Sehun lifts his lip and frowns, before sighing. “I can’t, sorry. I still need to work on the little beast over in the corner, and I’ve been slacking. Rain check though?”

Chanyeol nods and jams his arms in his overall, zipping it up high enough to be considered decent but low enough to let in some fresh air. “Sure. Don’t wait up if I don’t come back right away.” As he walks toward the door, Sehun turns on his heel though, and makes a dramatic gasping noise.

“So that’s why you always go to that same shitty diner. What, have you finally found someone you like?” Though there’s a playfulness in his voice, Chanyeol can’t help but wonder if it is meant as a genuine question about his sanity and persona at once. He sighs, but decides to be honest as he pulls open the stained metal and lets in the coldness of a breeze.

“No, I haven’t. I’m busy, I don’t have time for women and- liking people.” Sehun pulls a disbelieving face, but then just smiles and turns back toward the car. Maybe the look stems from the fact that Chanyeol was quite the ladies man just a few years ago or maybe because he still has his fair share of nightly outings like the lot of them, but Chanyeol is generally truthful. His life is busy as it is, and in his line of work intimacy doesn’t come easy. “Just don’t drop a wrench on your foot, idiot. I’m going. And no smoking indoors, Oh Sehun!” At the sharp giggle that rings out, Chanyeol steps out, letting the metal gate clash closed. He pulls his phone out of his pocket easily. The screen has too many cracks to count, because unlike his cars he doesn’t care much about this piece of metal.

No missed calls, which is always a good sign. He puts the phone back in it’s confinement, before fishing out a Marlboro pack and picking out a smoke. As he holds the thing between his lips and strikes the lighter, a recognizable screech makes it’s way down the wide street. He lights his ciggie and takes a deep pull as he watches the blue of a shape speed closer, chest rumbling with something that could build to be a song. The car speeds down the road and past his garage, only to stop harshly at the end of the road. The 66’ deep blue Miura P400 is parked a good thirty feet away from his feet, and though Lamborghini's aren’t his kind of car, he’s always had a knack for spotting the princesses in donkey skin.

A familiar tingle makes it’s way down his spine as he watches the driver get out and enter a shop across the street, knowing how easy it would be to unlock the old car and spark her to a start. It would take him not even a full two minutes, and yet he knows that his disobedience wouldn’t be appreciated. Besides, he doesn’t work like that anymore. So instead he takes another pull, and lets the smoke deep in his lungs. It’s always been easy for Chanyeol to drown in the heat. It’s always felt like second nature, that deep burning of desire between the spaces of his rib cage that beg to be ignited.

And he burned the brightest, everyone who knows him now was there when he did and will confirm it in a heartbeat. Though many of his fires have dimmed to mere embers with time, it’s always been easy for him to drown in the heat and now he has addictions that aren’t easily shaken. Smoking is one of them. He’s never been one to see it as a part of dying, not like some people refuse to touch a cigarette with a stick like the thing itself carries disease. He’s lived with death, ran alongside it for long enough to feel the smoke in his lungs as something familiar. As he breathes out, the driver comes back outside.

He’s tall, and wears a leather jacket with a logo that Chanyeol doesn’t recognize. When the stranger turns both ways to check the street, they meet eyes, and for a moment he pauses. When Chanyeol takes another pull, the man gives him a little nod and looks away. The Miura is driven out of sight quickly after, leaving him with the thick longing of getting to know not the driver— but the car. He drops his shoulders at the possibility of that, and tosses the stub on the ground to put it out under his feet. With a last cloud he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and starts walking.

The grass that sticks from between the sidewalk is carrying small yellow flowers now, enjoying the bright summer sun. Luckily the diner is not far, so he doesn’t mind walking the way. As he walks he keeps his eyes to the ground, though he glances around once in a while to check around him. Most people wouldn’t recognize his face, and those who do are smart enough to let him be, this he’s grateful for. The sun is already sinking lower and giving everything a soft, pink glow. As he rounds the last corner, it strikes him as odd, since the street is not totally abandoned.

He rights himself more, and strolls past multiple people casually, as he scans the area. The normally empty road almost seems lively, the smell of sweets filling the air. Admittedly, Chanyeol hasn’t been out a lot lately because of the heaps of work shoved on his shoulders, but the change is striking. He sighs deeply, before picking out another ciggie and lighting it, breathing out smoke with his annoyance. As he crosses the street to get to the diner, he frowns out of habit, letting thoughts devour him. The sweetness is slightly nauseating. With two big steps he makes his way to the door and grabs hold of the familiar metal, when a fruity voice breaks his silence. “Hey!” When he looks to the side, two bright eyes meet his.

You wipe your sweaty palms on your apron, and blink your lashes against the bright afternoon light. Yuna places her palms on the counter, and stares at the metal ice cream basket you plonked down ever so graciously. “Cream, machine, let it freeze as it stirs and take it out when half frozen. Done,” you repeat, glancing over your shoulder at her. Her pretty face is held in a frown, but she does her best to smile while you take a spoon to taste the ice cream you’ve made. It tastes… pretty good.

“Yeah, that’s all. You know how to make the waffles too, right?” You nod a curt yes, before her brows unlace from each other. “Good, just— don’t play around too much, ‘kay? This place is my baby, and it’s the only thing paying for the house and I-”

“I’ll do my best, Yuna, I promise. It’s good to know that you don’t think I’m totally incompetent,” you wink, slotting the new ice cream basket into the display next to the others. Standing near it in this weather is a blessing.

Your sister smiles, before swinging her arm around your shoulder. “Not totally, no. I just think you’re mildly incompetent.” She laughs along with you when you turn to her with your spoon, ready to smack it on her head. You give up when she holds her hands in front of her in a silent plead, smiling. “Right. I’m going now, you got this. Work hard and sell a lot, if you can. You saw how I did it, so I believe in you.”

“Thank you, sis. Go do business!” With a wave she slips out the door, and leaves you alone for the first time today. You’ve only started work a few hours ago, but that was with Yuna by your side, who’s basically a veteran at this by now. Being alone in the small store gives a weird feeling, though it’s nice to feel responsible for once. If you work hard, she might let you work here full time until you go back to school— a miracle because, ice cream.

Two people walk up the sidewalk, a couple strolling in the midday glow. As they get closer, you smile and give them a little bow. “Good afternoon. Would you like some ice cream? We’re selling at half the price today because it’s my first day.” The girl catches your eyes right away, widening with excitement as the delicious colors appear. Even before she asks, the boyfriend seems to know because he puts out his butt and reaches for his wallet.

“Yes, please.” She comes to stand on the step in front, and smiles. “For me, one strawberry, one lime please.”

“Would you like that in a cup or a cone?”

“Cone, please.”

“Coming right up. And for you?” you turn to the young man, who just shakes his head and runs a hand through his brown hair.

“I’m good, I gotta-”

The girl groans though, taking his hand and shaking it. You’ve got the woman’s ice cream finished in a second, and slide it carefully in the stand. “Come on, Minseok, just get an ice cream. Don’t you see how good they look?” You laugh a little at them both, and bite your lip.

With a roll of his eyes, he gives in. “Double coffee flavor, please. In a cone.” You nod and prepare the second ice cream quickly, as he takes out his money. Carefully you hand the cone over, before walking to the register.

“That’ll be… $3,04.” With that the man hands you a fiver, before starting to walk away. He just mouths ‘keep the change’, and grabs his girlfriend’s hand to continue down the sidewalk. You stare them down for a little longer, before sighing and looking around the street again. It’s not very busy, but there’s people walking, which is a good sign. You just need them to get close enough to lure them into your sweet-smelling trap. You giggle softly to yourself while you think that, because there’s not really much you have to do for people to crave ice cream. As long as you can get their attention—

Right as you think that, a tall man comes walking across the road, towards you. He’s slumped forward a little, a cigarette held casually between his lips and his hands in the pockets of his blue overalls. His hair is a striking icy white against his golden skin. As he gets closer you notice the frown on his face, and almost decide to stay quiet. He glances over his shoulder, before reaching for the door of the building right next to yours, oblivious to your gaze on him.

Without being able to help it, you lean forward across the counter. “Hey!” you call, giving him a little smile. He looks up slightly confused, and definitely mildly annoyed. You don’t let that stop you though. “Could I tempt you?” You point down at the ice cream to drive the point home, watching as he gives you a one over. Despite his harsh expression, he has a handsome face, you notice, with soft features and a sharp jawline.

The man clenches his jaw, before raising his one eyebrow. “You’ve got the wrong one, sugar.” He keeps one side of his mouth still as he talks to keep his smoke in his mouth, which makes him look even more annoyed. His dark brows make him look stern, and despite his still youthful face— he looks a good bit older than you. “You’re looking for Byun.” With that he grabs the handle and pulls open the door of the diner.

“I highly doubt that!” you quickly bring out, breathing out when he turns over his shoulder to look at you. When he doesn’t immediately say anything in response, you twirl your spoon in your hand, with a little smile. “I don’t know who Byun is, I’m new here, you see.” Again, the man stares at you with a blank face, blowing out a cloud grey smoke in your direction. You turn your face away a bit, to keep from coughing at the smell, and try again. “You really don’t want some ice cream? It’s probably hot in whatever factory you come from, and we’re selling half the price.”

Finally, he reacts, letting the door drop closed to fold his arms across his chest. Even with the over sized blue attire, you can tell that he’s pretty buff, and you can’t help but wonder if it’s really only from whatever work he does. He picks his dart out of his lips to hold it between his fingers, to cocks his head back a little. “I don’t like ice cream.” Harsh shadows fall on his face like that, the sun low enough to create a dappled pattern on his warm skin.

You nod, before lulling your head to the side. “Well, then come talk to me for a little bit!” You don’t know why you’re putting in so much effort, when you could surely talk to someone less grumpy, but something about him feels familiar. Not in the way Yuna feels familiar, and not in the way your friends from back home feel familiar. His attitude is about as far as you could get from it, and yet, you enjoy the deep tremble of his voice. It feels comforting in a way, warm but not burning. You’re sure that if he were to leave now, he’d remain in your head for a long while.

He takes another pull from his smoke, and then looks around the street— for what you’re not certain. When he blows out his smoke, he sighs. “I don’t like talking either.”

You give a little giggle, and put your ice cream scoop back in it’s watery bucket. “Hmh- I think you’d be in the minority for both there.” He doesn’t really react, but you’re starting not to mind as much. Maybe he’s just a really quiet person. You pick one of the failed waffles and plop a part in your mouth, talking with your hand in front of your mouth. “I just wanna make friends, ‘ya know? Have you lived here for long? Do you know my sister?”

He stares at you for a while without answering, his dark eyes connecting with yours without fail. When you look at the floor with warm cheeks, he hums. “For long enough.” His voice is so deep and gentle when he speaks, that you almost find it doesn’t fit his demeanor. After a while of just looking at each other in silence, he clears his voice. “And I don’t- who’s your sister?”

“Her name is Yuna, she’s the boss of this here shop.” You proudly glance up at the sign that hangs above your head, before smiling at him. Strangely, his thundery demeanor only makes you want to be more joyful, and you have no idea why. A persistent smile keeps tugging at your lips when you look at him.

He blinks twice, before shaking his head. “Never heard of her.” He puts out his butt on the cement instead of putting it in the ashtray next to the door, and shoves his large, calloused hands back in the pockets. His frown hasn’t left his face for a second, and it’s this that makes you pause.

With a small voice, you lace your hands together behind your back. “You really don’t want to be talking to me, huh?”

“Well noticed,” he sighs, lifting one of his brows again.

Though that stings just a little, you nod, and smile at him. “Okay, then. Have a good day! I’m Y/N, if we see each other again.” The man doesn’t say anything else, just gives you a little nod and then pulls open the door of the diner again. The loud music from inside comes to meet your ears as he does, but fades just as quick as it came when he walks through the door and lets it drop closed behind him. You stare at the door until the image of his frown fades, and you look back at the street.

Chanyeol sighs as he sinks into the chair, hands limply laying on his thighs. Sweat is collected at his hairline, a cold drink sitting on the edge of the table in front. His black shirt clings to his chest because of the heat, sticking uncomfortably to his back like a tight hug. He frowns as he looks over the crowd, running his tongue over his teeth. The whole ordeal is not his place, hasn’t been for a while now, and yet— here he sits pressed in the booth right in the center of the club, able to view the entire room.

This is a privilege that comes with the reputation he must have. His fingers tremble slightly when he looks over his shoulder, looking for one of the bartenders. He’d like a smoke right about now, but even he isn’t allowed to smoke indoors and he doesn’t feel like pressing between the sweaty, dancing bodies to make his way to the door. Instead he reaches for the whiskey and swallows the thing down without thinking. A vicious burn sits at the back of his mouth, irritating his throat. He doesn’t let it bother him.

The club music is almost deafening, bass trembling through skin and bone and maybe he won’t stay long enough for it to shake him, but maybe he will. His friends are also lounging in the seats, some more occupied then others. The girl next to him has her tongue so far down his friend’s throat that she must be able to taste every drink he’s had in his entire life. Chanyeol just looks around for a bit, before he makes eye contact with one of the bartenders and lifts his glass.

“Aren’t you glad I dragged you out of your cave?” Baekhyun says, almost shouting because of the music. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, dark brown hair sticking to his forehead. Chanyeol can see that Baekhyun has more alcohol in him than he’s letting on, staring across the crowd for what must be a new body to enjoy. When Chanyeol doesn’t answer right away, the older swings an arm over his shoulder and squeezes. “Loosen up a little, Yeol. You’ve grown so damn reclusive since you moved out of my place.”

This ticks him off, though he tries his very best not to let it show. “You know why I can’t, Byun. Don’t try your bullshit on me, I’m not in the mood.”

Baekhyun pauses when he catches eyes with his friend, gaze softening a little. “You can do whatever you want, Yeol, the past is gone. I’m not saying you have to find yourself someone fuck, I’m genuinely wondering, is all. We all know you’ll fuck someone when you feel like it. I just need to know you’re good.” When Baekhyun raises an eyebrow in question, Chanyeol sighs and nods. At that moment, the bartender of earlier sheepishly walks up, and fills his cup, leaving the whole bottle on the table while he’s at it.

The white haired man sighs, before changing the topic. “How she drive now, anyway?” The aching in his lungs is distracting, his worked hands playing with the chain hanging from his belt.

Baekhyun hums. “She drives great, as always. You did a good job. She doesn’t shake like that anymore.” He tosses the last of his drink back and reaches for the bottle to fill up again. “You know, that rattling sound she made!”

“One day I’m not gonna be able to fix that rust bucket of yours,” Chanyeol mumbles, a smile pulling at his lips when Baekhyun gives him a comically offended look. “Get yourself a new one, for fuck sake.”

“How about you shut your mouth? Just do the job I pay you for and stop complaining.”

At that he can’t hold a grin. “You pay me jack shit, dumbass.” He swirls the whiskey in his glass and watches as it changes color because of the strobe lights. The girl next to him has now come to sit in his friend’s lap, and is still sucking face. With another smooth move he tosses the entirety of his glass back, and couches. “I’m setting off, guys. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” As he reaches to get up, slim fingers round his wrist.

“Yeol,” Baekhyun calls, prompting him to look back at his friend. Without another word the brunet pulls open his blazer and picks out a small bag, small blue pills filling it to the brim. Baekhyun asks a mute question with his eyes as he offers it to him, but Chanyeol puts his hand in his pocket while shaking his head the slightest bit.

“Not tonight, Byun. Thanks though.” With that he makes his way out of the group, saying goodbye to everyone and teasingly ruffling Junmyeon’s hair. He steps down the platform of the booth to weave between the dancing bodies. Some girls stare him down as he does, but he doesn’t feel like being nice tonight. And when he’s not nice, he brings on disaster. He prefers to keep tonight calm, making it to the door quickly. For the short two hours he’s been in the bar for, he feels pretty tipsy.

Those last couple of glasses would be to blame there. He takes a deep breath of the outside air, ignoring the people making out against the wall in front, and reaches in his pants for the familiar box. The flame is bright in the night, a bright red against the blue sky. The warm smoke makes it’s way in his lungs like a soothing balm, getting rid of the stress that built up in his muscles. The air is much colder now, but it feels nice. He takes a deep breath, and starts walking away from the club, crossing the street smoothly. Not many people will be racing tonight, he knows, since every worthwhile racer is collected in that bar.

He walks with slow but confident steps, enjoying the music as it fades into the distance. He didn’t park his car close. Chanyeol wasn’t going to let some drunk asshole scratch it up, or there would have been hell to pay. As he walks, the work he still has to do comes to mind. He still has the McLaren 12C Spider to work on, as well as one of his personally projects, and some touch ups for clients around town. As he walks, a face suddenly comes to mind. Your smile, and excited enthusiasm that would normally piss him off.

Though he pushes it down quickly after, you stay cemented far back in his thoughts, without reason. Finally he rounds the corner that reveals his prized possession, a 19’ Mercedes G-Class he got after trading his favorite car for Jongdae’s loss. He had been livid, but looking back now, it was a blessing in disguise. The blacked out windows gleam in the streetlights. He quickly hops in and drives her out off the street, ignoring the slight swaying of the street.

He’s driven cars when black out drunk before, so this is nothing. And even if he would get held up by the cops, he wouldn’t get in trouble. Exo owns this town, and everyone here knows it. He’s lucky to be where he is, with all honesty. If Junmyeon wouldn’t have picked him out of junior jail, he might have been in jail more than he would have been out. The drive to the garage is short. He doesn’t live here, but he’d rather not go to sleep tonight. Spending the rest of the early morning tinkering sounds that much more appealing. He throws a quick glance at the clock while parking her around the corner. 4:34 AM.

As he hops out, a sound catches his ear. The squeaking of metal. He frowns for a second, before reaching the front with big steps. Someone sits crouched in front of the garage door, with a wire cutter and clearly trying to force the lock of the door. Chanyeol clenches his jaw tight, before tossing his ciggie to the floor and crossing his hands over his chest. The harsh swell of his lungs is painful against the tight confinement of his ribs.

With all the self-control he can muster, he speaks out, voice deep in the otherwise silent street. “One more move and I’ll plunge a knife so deep between your shoulders that your grandmother feels it in her toes.” The person freezes for a second, before looking over with wide eyes. His face is covered with a face mask, but Chanyeol can immediately see he’s young. “You’re not messing with the right people, kid,” he rasps, pulling his black butterfly knife out of his shoe, and flicking it open.

The young man hesitates for a second, round eyes widening, before sprinting down the road. Though Chanyeol could easily chase him, by foot or car, he doesn’t. Instead he spits some of the leftover alcoholic taste on the floor, and stares at the retreating back of the dude. The blaring between his ears now gets painful, so he turns to get inside. When he does though, he catches a glint in his peripheral. Next to the damaged lock lays something, what turns out to be the wire cutters when he bends down to pick it up. Chanyeol sighs and puts his knife away again, before staring closer at the tool in his hands.

On the side, a name is written, messily scribbled like you would on your personal water bottle. When he reads it, Chanyeol’s eyes widen slightly in recognition. Yoonoh.

thank you so much for reading!! please, check out all these lovely ladies’ part of this universe as well and show them a lot of love! I’ll add the masterlist of the collab as soon as it is posted~ @ninibears-erigom @suhoerections @kimjongdaely @kyungseokie @kpop---scenarios @yeoldontknow @baekwell--tart @skjdln

If you want to be (un)tagged for this series, shoot me a message!!! @shxrl4747 @lucymheng @byunfirstlady @chanyeolol

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ego-sum-id-quod-cantum-ludere · 4 years

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WHAT IT'S LIKE TO LIVE IN AN OLD PEOPLE'S APARTMENT BUILDING

Holy shit, I haven't even been living in here for two months, and I'm going to be living here for at least another five. All I want to do here is make myself bedridden because that's the only thing that can go okay.

Before I get into this, I would like to say this for context: My dad decided that the pandemic was the best time to sell the house that I grew up in, and so he did. He wanted my two siblings and me to live with him in this apartment building meant for the elderly, but four people can't fit in an apartment for two. So we tried getting a double for my sister and me, but there weren't any available. The only available space was the common room that was being unused because of the pandemic. So that's where we're living.

THOUGH ADVICE IS HELPFUL, THIS POST IS MOSTLY FOR VENTING!

PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DON'T TELL US TO GET A JOB OR GET A DIFFERENT APARTMENT OR ASK WHERE MOM IS BECAUSE YOU DON'T KNOW OUR SITUATION, AND THIS IS ONLY A SMALL PORTION OF THE PROBLEM WE'VE BEEN PUT IN!

Now that that's out of the way, these are the problems that have occurred thus far:

1. Old people trying to break in.

I swear to God, the next time a Boomer with dementia tries to break in the room, I'm going to flip my shit.

Just today, there was an old lady who tried to break in THREE times. She got in successfully once because we had to leave the door unlocked for the workers to get in and try to fix the problems we were having with the pipe. The first thing she did was TAKE OFF HER MASK! The second thing she did was ask if there were other people in here, and my sister and I said, "No, we live here now." And then, she nearly brought herself to tears over her story of how she likes the piano and her father was a professional pianist, and that she misses the people. And we had to say, "Sorry, but we live here now" and send her on her way. Because we live here now. So then she leaves and we lock the door.

If we had left the piano open, or if she noticed the keyboard behind me, she NEVER would have left!

NOT EVEN FIVE MINUTES LATER, she returns to our door and tries to unlock the door with her keys!

We've told the owner multiple times about this since people try to break in almost every day, but the problem is that no matter how many times he tells all the old people that we live here, there will always be at least one person that forgets and tries to break in, and there's nothing we can do about it.

Also, as I was writing this post, someone else tried to break in (or maybe it was the same person trying to break in) YET AGAIN!

And then after my siblings and I had dinner, someone tried the handle on the doorknob FOUR SEPARATE TIMES! With a total of NINE TIMES that this has happened in one day, it has been a new personal record. Usually, it has only been once or twice a day.

2. AC problems

Bugs can easily get in the building through the vents when the AC is turned off. One time, a wasp got in here.

The filters only get replaced once a year. As far as I know from previously living in a home with an HVAC system, the filters are supposed to be replaced every 1 to 3 months.

You can't put things up against or near the vents, otherwise problems will occur.

The AC has leaked before. Thankfully, there were little to no damages, but now I'm afraid to leave it on for long periods of time.

3. THE MAIN PIPE OF THE BUILDING IS EXTREMELY CLOGGED, and it just so happens that the young folks here are the ones to notice something going on.

When we first moved in, we noticed a puddle of dirty water coming up from the bathtub drain, and we didn’t know where it was coming from or why it was happening. So we called someone in to examine it, and all he said was that they knew of this problem but didn’t want to do anything to fix it. So we had to accept that this was a problem that couldn’t be fixed (or that the owner didn’t want to fix it).

From then on, we assumed that the water came from one of our neighbors. We tried ways to bypass this issue while we were taking a shower, such as leaving the drain closed, and letting the water from the shower fill up the tub a bit before opening the drain. However, there was still dirty water coming up at times, and we don’t know why.

LAST NIGHT, however, we heard a strange bubble coming from the kitchen sink, and it turned out that the dirty water that would usually come up in the bathtub WAS FILLING UP THE SINK! So we had to call someone about this, and they came in this morning to check it out. They tried using a plunger in the sink, but more water kept coming up the garbage disposal. That’s when they realized that THE WHOLE PLUMBING SYSTEM IN THE BUILDING WAS CLOGGED! THE MAIN PIPE WAS CLOGGED! So now they have to figure out how to unclog the main pipe. That will be an update for a later time.

Update: apparently, this exact same problem happened a few years ago! This clearly shows how fucked-up the plumbing system is in this building - that the MAIN pipe of the building gets clogged EVERY FEW YEARS!

Update 2: The sink bubbled up again and now has more water in it.

4. The owner is shady as fuck.

The owner of the building is the original owner’s grandson. Ok, cool, he got a family business going. That’s cool and all, but why does his personality creep me out so much?

When he first met me, he thought that I was the mom, that I was the one running the show. But I’m not the mom, and I’m not even the one “running the show”. He knows full well that my dad was the one who decided to make my siblings and me live in a Boomer building, and my sister (bless her soul) is the one who is taking care of my brother and me (but it’s not like my dad will ever acknowledge that).

The way he talks is very strange, too, as if he’s trying to coo force me to be comfortable. And he blows me kisses too, like wtf? I understand doing that to your grandson, but doing that to a stranger, let alone a grown-ass adult is creepy.

He also has immigrant workers, which is not inherently bad, but on the day we were moving in, he showed my dad a text of one of the workers being deported back to the Dominican Republic. So either the immigrant workers are there undocumented or they did have a Visa or green card that expired and the owner didn’t let them renew their Visa/green card. If it’s the latter, then holy shit that’s fucked up. Also, I wonder how well they’re being treated in general when they’re working, or how much they get paid compared to other non-immigrant workers (oh wait, they can’t figure that out because we live in a culture that refuses to let their workers talk about their salaries in fear of demanding better wages, whoops).

5. The Wifi breaks every so often.

It’s not as big of a deal as the others on here, but it is annoying.

There’s constantly been construction going on in the street adjacent to the apartment building, and one time the cable got cut out. It took a few hours for the problem to be fixed.

It’ll be more annoying if the Wifi breaks while I’m trying to attend classes on Zoom or doing homework.

6. Other general bug problems

The bugs that my sister and I get are mostly mosquitoes, gnats, and other flies. In my dad’s apartment, where my brother sleeps, there are big black beetles everywhere! We don’t know if they’re cockroaches or not, but he gets many of them flying and crawling in his room every night, and he has to lose hours upon hours of sleep whacking these bugs with a fly swatter until they’re dead. And once he kills one, another starts flying around. We have no idea where these ones are coming from either.

In conclusion, this apartment building is very problematic, and the only reason why other people haven’t complained about the problems of this building is that they’re old and are less likely to notice or care about these problems. I wouldn’t be surprised if the walls have asbestos in them. Unfortunately, I have to be stuck here for at least another five months, maybe more if this pandemic rages on for decades (thanks in no part to the government - oh, whoops, I’m not supposed to say that, lol).

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading this post. Again, this post was mostly for venting, but some helpful advice on how to get out of this situation (or at least not feel like I’m suffering so much) would be appreciated.

If you’re living in a similar situation as I am, I do have one piece of advice for you - don’t go to Quora and anonymously ask questions. They WILL bully you.

#senior living #ok boomer #boomer #elderly living #help #venting #apartment #personal

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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979

survey by xalikattx

FOOD

What is your favorite salad dressing? I’m not really familiar with most of them as I only consume one type of salad and the recipe for that usually calls for mayo and some kind of spicy sauce. I guess that’s my favorite dressing by default.

Favorite sit-down restaurant? Yabu for days. I personally don’t think that will change for me. Mama Lou’s is also nice but its crowd can be so boujee it kills the dine-in experience for me.

Favorite pizza topping? I’m easy to please; I just like my pizzas cheesy.

What food could you eat for two weeks straight and not get sick of it? Fried chicken sandwiches.

What do you put on your toast? Butter is fine with me. I don’t really eat toast.

What food do you eat the most? I have rice in every meal.

Do you like food? Yes.

Do you LOVE food? Yesssssssssir. I have my preferences and things that I don’t like but I’m not picky for the most part, and I love being adventurous with the foods I try.

Do you even eat at all? ...What kind of question is this

What do you put on your ice cream? I never customize my ice cream. I usually consume ice cream however way it’s already served.

Do you like steak? For sure.

Or are you a vegetarian? No.

How about a vegan? No.

What food do you hate the most? I’ve never learned how to appreciate kakanin, which is a group of a variety of sweet rice cakes that we have in Philippine cuisine. This has definitely caused my Filipino card to be revoked in the past lol, but ugh the texture is just so slimy and I hate how, even though we have so many types of kakanin, they all just taste and feel like sticky, chewed-up rice doused in sugar and coconut flakes. Korean rice cakes taste so much better.

TECHNOLOGY

How many TVs are in your house? We have four. Two downstairs, two upstairs.

Do they all work? I think the one in my brother’s room has stopped working but we just never get around to throwing it out because of the possibility of it getting fixed someday.

Do you have Comcast digital cable? I don’t know what that is. Probably a US thing? In that case we don’t. We used to have cable TV but my dad ceased our subscription a few months ago because no one in the family has been watching the TV for cable anymore and he got sick of paying for something that we don’t even avail of; we all stream our shows and movies on Netflix now.

AT&T Uverse? Definitely no AT&T on this side of the world, so no.

Dish Network? No.

Something else? Obviously.

Nothing? Again, it was a local cable provider but we’ve since cut off our subscription.

What's your favorite show? Of all time, Breaking Bad. Currently, it’s The Crown but I’ve been such a bad viewer at the moment; I stopped watching at some point a few months ago and haven’t gone back to Netflix since, welp.

What's the worst show? I don’t objectively know what’s the worst one out there but when it comes to my personal preferences, I’ve just never seen the appeal of shows targeted to teenagers or a younger demographic in general, like Teen Wolf, 13 Reasons Why, Riverdale, the TV adaptation of Scream, etc. Of course, this is just my own taste and I certainly don’t judge people who enjoy these shows.

What color cell phone do you have? The official name is Space Gray but that’s too fancy so let’s just call it black.

What kind? iPhone 8.

What does the first text message in your inbox say and who sent it? So I scrolled all the way down to the bottom of my text threads and the last person on the list is Ate Frances, and she was just telling me to check my Messenger because she had sent me a question regarding an event our org was holding at the time.

What was the last text you sent and who did you send it to? Gabie. I simply said “hi.”

Who was the last person to call you? My mom.

Who was the last person you called? Gab.

CURRENTLY

Are you missing someone? Yeah but let’s not get into it.

What are you listening to? I can hear rain pouring from outside my window.

Watching? It’s mostly background noise because I’m focusing on this survey, but I have on a YouTube video playing.

Worrying about? Work. I was tasked to think of PR executions for a client over the weekend and I just really really dislike it when I’m assigned to something that forces me to brainstorm, so ugh. Wish me luck because my brain juices have been feeling weak all weekend.

Where are you? I’m in my bedroom, my favorite place to be these days.

What's it like there? Lonely, but it’s quiet and comfortable. I used to avoid my bedroom all the time everyday because it makes me depressed, but now I am depressed and prefer to stay here all the time too.

How are you feeling? A little sad but I think tonight’s one of the nights I can fake it a little more easily, which is decent enough for me.

Is anyone with you? Who? Just Kimi.

Are you hungry? I haven’t had an appetite in a while. No.

What do you want to eat? I’m not craving anything.

Thirsty? I’m good, thank you.

What do you want to drink? I might end up drinking some of the plum soju that’s been in the fridge for months tonight, even though I told myself I wasn’t interested in touching it lol.

What time is it? 6:58 PM.

LASTS

Thing you ate? A tuna empanada.

Thing you drank? Pretty sure it was just water.

Thing you said? “Go, pee” It was to Kimi as I set him down on the balcony.

Movie you watched? I’m Thinking of Ending Things. Ugh, I really should watch a more light-hearted movie soon because this answer is such a depressing one and I’m tired of mentioning it.

Store you went to? What did you buy? Grocery store; dog food.

Person you talked to? My sister.

Person you hugged? I think it was Gabie.

Kissed? Also her.

Yelled at? I haven’t raised my voice in a while. I don’t remember anymore.

Book you read? Midnight Sun.

Thing you touched? Other than the keyboard, I pushed up my eyeglasses.

Person you became friends with on Facebook/Myspace/whatever other site? [continued the next day] A co-intern, Justine, added me on Facebook. I honestly don’t see the point of being Facebook friends because we’re bound to part ways and never encounter each other again after our internship...but I guess it’s nice to have friendly co-workers.

RANDOM

Are a righty or a lefty? Righty.

Have you ever had anything removed from your body? Just a decaying tooth, but otherwise no organs or anything larger.

What is the last heavy object you lifted? Does Cooper count? Little man has been getting so big over the last few weeks. He’s finally getting the growth spurt that we’ve been waiting for :’D But I don’t really do heavy lifting around the house, so.

Have any scars? Sure.

How did you get them? Any interesting stories? Most of them are scars from childhood falls, because I was the clumsiest kid in the neighborhood and tripped and scraped my legs at least once every time I played outside. There’s a scar on my left eyebrow from an idiot cousin who had been out to make me blind, and then there’s the self-harm scars as well.

if it were possible, would you want to know the day you're going to die? Yes. It’s one of the things I’ve always wanted to know.

If you could change your name, what would you change it to? I’m happy with mine. I’m not five anymore.

Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000? If it was like sriracha then yeah. Not willing to do anything overly hot, though.

How about 10 bottles of ketchup? I’d be more enticed if you offered mayonnaise, but even then I think such a feat deserves a higher prize than $1000.

10 bottles of maple syrup? Thinking of how thick that is already hurts my throat. Pass.

A bottle of vinegar? HELL no.

10 jars of peanutbutter? HELL yes but again, I’m gonna be asking for more money lol

How many pairs of flip flops do you own? A couple. They’re not my favorite things to wear so I don’t feel the need to collect a lot of them.

Favorite month? April because birthday month; December because even though that’s when my depression strikes the hardest, everyone else is caught up in the holidays and that allows me to guiltlessly cut off contact with people for a few weeks.

Do you always answer your phone? If you mean calls, then no. I do not pick up if it’s an unknown number, but after rejecting I immediately text them asking who they are and what they’re calling for. I just feel like it’s proper etiquette to text before you call, especially if you’re reaching out to me for the first time.

It's four AM and you get a text message, who is it? Gabie for sure. She’s on the graveyard shift, so it wouldn’t be a surprise.

If you could change your eye color what would it be? I’m okay with mine, but if I got reincarnated as a foreigner I’d love to have hazel eyes. They look very pretty.

Do you own a digital camera? Not anymore. My phone camera can take good enough photos.

Do you take lots of pictures of yourself? Hell no.

Do you take them in front of the mirror in the bathroom? Nope.

Have you ever had a pet fish? I had several goldfish as a kid, yes.

Pet hamster? Nope. That’s mostly a Western thing too I think; I don’t think I know anyone who’s ever had a hamster.

Bird? We had lovebirds before; they were so low-maintenance and made for such sweet pets.

Rabbit? Yep. Tobi was a bit of a handful, but I loved him all the same.

Iguana? No.

Favorite Christmas movie? Love Actually and It’s A Wonderful Life.

Favorite Christmas song? Probably It’s Beginning To Look a Lot Like Christmas. It’s so soothing and yet makes me feel festive and excited for Christmas.

Can you do push ups? I can, doesn’t mean I’m good at holding myself up ha.

Can you do a chin up? I can but I hate those.

Does the future make you nervous or excited? Both.

Ever been in a car accident? Just minor ones.

Do you have an accent? I think everyone does. I’ve honestly never understood this question lol, if I go to a different country or continent, people are always going to have an accent in my ears. Even in my own country, I can think of a number of accents I’ve heard people speak in.

What song always makes you cry? 26 by Paramore.

Have any plans for tonight? Rest my tired head.

What were you doing at 12 AM last night? Talking to Gabie.

What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up? Ugh, Monday.

#survey #surveys

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deathspeaker · 4 years

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*sigh*

So I finally got my disability back pay a few months ago, nearly 20k. I replaced/fixed/updated a few things around the house (I got a new stove and gave the old one to my brother because his was broken).

Now. Come next October I cant have more than 2k in my account (that's normal for people on disability). I wanted to give some money to my mom to hold onto in case of an emergency but the house has conspired to break everything it can so the money is quickly evaporating.

Now to the point of this post. I sometimes perform acts of charity. When I'm low on cash I still like to occasionally do nice things like buying the person behind me in line at a drive through's order.

Today I needed to get the car's alignment fixed and there was a woman there who needed new tires and straight up couldn't afford it. So I stepped up and said "Can you get them if I pay 200$ of the bill?" That worked and she burst into tears, called me an angel and the guy behind the till teared up as well.

When I got home and mentioned it to my Dad he instantly got angry and told me how it was a "scam", which... it wasn't. I paid the tire store, didnt just give her the money. But he was convinced I got scammed and scolded me for being so "naive".

Later in the day my mother and I drove by a homeless person panhandling and I gave her the 5$ in my pocket to give to him, literal pocket change and she was furious!! She insisted that he was going to buy drugs with it and I explained that I didn't care. I will gladly offer someone kindness and empathy, I dont care if I do get scammed occasionally.

My parents are baby boomers and it seems to be a very common refrain of their generation. This idea of helping other people with your money is bad. Oh sure, volunteer your time! But no! You should never directly give people money because they could use it in "drugs, liquor, whatever".

My best friend couldn't afford to buy her kids Christmas presents this year and she was really upset so I told her to set up an Amazon Wishlist and bought a bunch of things for her girls. I'm practically their aunt. My best friend is like my sister. Again, both of my parents scolded me for spending this money instead of saving it.

I just dont understand this mentality. I live with my father, I'm his caretaker and we have enough money to not only live in modest comfort but enough extra to pay for SEVERAL media services, cable, netflix, Amazon prime, hulu, disney+ (which I plan on cancelling soon, not impressed with it and the lag is unbearable). We use my monthly disability checks usually for important unexpected expenses.

I dont need much money. I cant have more than 2k in my account so I have to spend the money. I will gladly sacrifice to help others.

But to my parents this is stupid. This is just... sad. I want to help people. I want to improve people's lives. I live in such misery, I'm so anxious and constantly depressed so being able to give happiness to others is... a rare bright spot.

I wonder what went so wrong with my parent's generation that they're so... cynical. Hateful. Cruel.

#sad talk #charity #my life sucks so I want to make others better

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essaysbyciara · 5 years

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Thy Neighbor (Chapter 4)

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3]

Trevante Rhodes x Y’lan Noel fanfiction. Message me if you would like to get added to the tag list.

A few content warnings for this chapter: War, domestic violence, PTSD.

“Baby, baby, listen, list-, she’s only my neighbor. I promise you…”

Trevante knew how to save face. And how to fix his face. The food smells delicious and Trevante couldn’t wait to dive in.

“Tre, listen. I’m tired of you and all these girls. Either we’re doing this or wer---,” Trevante knew how to cut off a conversation too. He peppered his date with kisses, bringing her back tot their prior moments together. She quickly forgot what she was mad about.

Trevante gently grabs his escapade’s chin. “You know you’re my favorite. Believe that. I’ll see you Friday night, right? Right?”

“Grr. Yes.”

He lightly taps his date on the butt as she walks out of his apartment. Quickly grabbing a fork for his food, he plops on the couch and turns on Sportscenter, sounding approval for his food with every bite.

That girl can cook. Damn.

His mood quickly changes when Baseball Tonight comes on. Suddenly he’s not hungry anymore. He grabs the remote with velocity, turning off the cable and turning on his gaming system. As he loads up Mortal Kombat X, he tried to zone out without thinking about his Dad. A slight tear starts to form in his left eye as he looks for his controller. He shakes his head to readjust his heart, accidently looking at the screensaver on his phone. It’s a picture of him and his Dad at a Texas Rangers baseball game.

Baseball was Trevante’s Dad’s favorite sport, having played it in college and some years in the minor leagues. When his baseball dreams looked deferred, he joined the Army. Trevante was born after his father enlisted, having a baby with his college sweetheart. When Tre was little, he and his father would play catch in the backyard, learning how to swing like Ken Griffey Jr. Tre wanted to play center field like his father -- and Ken Griffey -- and did. He racked up awards in middle school until his father went to serve in Iraq.

Those years were tough for Trevante. His love of baseball changed for football and he built himself into a freight train. Hours in the gym allowed for him to escape the idea that his father may not come home, the only thing holding him on was the “I got you…” his Dad would write in letters.

His Dad would be surprised -- but proud -- of how built Trevante would become. They worked out together in the mornings, Tre being his Dad’s spotter. But he started to notice that his Dad would have a short temper and would go into fits of paranoia when Trevante would drop a weight on the concrete floor. Some nights, Tre would find his father staring at the window at all hours of the night, watching the empty street, bristling when a random car would drive by their home.

Although Tre couldn’t understand it, he knew to protect his mother as she couldn’t understand what was happening to her husband. He feared leaving his mother and sister to go off to college on a football scholarship. He didn’t quite know what was about to happen. But he knew something was wrong with his Dad and that the war probably had something to do with it.

Things quieted down as soon as Trevante left for college in Oklahoma. He was the starting linebacker for his team, racking up Division III awards and recognition. He also fell in love with marketing, excelling in school. Things were on a roll for Trevante until he received a harrowing phone call from his younger sister.

“Mom’s gone, Tre.”

Trevante’s mom died from a heart attack. As he rushed home to be with his Dad and sister, he noticed that his Dad was nowhere to be found.

“Yo, Tricia. Where’s Dad?”

“I don’t know. I-”

“What you mean you don’t know? He just left…?”

“Something like that…”

His sister’s words made no sense. As Trevante walked into the bedroom, he noticed that the drawers were full and that his father’s car was parked behind the house. Trevante’s sister wept as she spoke.

“Dad’s locked up, Tre.”

“What?”

“Mom ain’t want to-. Tre, please!” Trevante stands there bewildered. Tears forming rapidly, breath falling short. He wants to fall but he can’t. Somehow he could hear a voice telling him to stand tall.

“Tre. Dad’s in jail for drugs. He got hooked to pain meds, Tre. And he got upset because Mom wouldn’t give him any money and he shot up her car. Mom ain��t want to tell you because she knew you’d leave school.”

“I can’t believe this shit. I’m out…”

“Tre. Tre!”

With speed not seen, Tre drives away from the house. As he is about to hit the exit back to the freeway, a phone call from his sister slows him down.

“Tre, how you going to leave me alone?! I didn’t lie to you! Why are you blaming me!” Through screams and tears, Tricia implores Trevante to come back. He couldn’t bear to leave his sister alone.

“You’re calling Dad to let him know that Mom died. I’m not doing it.”

Years passed as Trevante refused to talk to his father. Even as his sister told him that his father was doing better and staying clean, he couldn’t work up the heart and soul to reach out. He felt guilt for leaving school for football. He felt guilt for allowing his Dad to hurt his Mom. He couldn’t understand how PTSD caused his father to cope with opiods. He couldn’t understand that while his father was locked up, his mother would still visit him. She knew that wasn’t her husband. And his apologies through the glass were sincere.

As Tre’s thoughts taper off to the good and bad times with his father, his phone pings from a text. It wasn’t track body. It was the assistant manager from the gym. She was racially ambiguous and built to win a triathlon. As she gave him a tour of the facility, she could feel the energy between them. She slipped him her number on his way out of the gym and the rest was history, giving him free personal training sessions and waving any late fees. But that came with something and Tre didn’t hesitate to deliver on it.

Hey, favorite. I haven’t seen you in the gym. You didn’t forget about me, right?

No. Had a funeral. Was out of town.

I’m sorry, love. Make you feel better?

Although Trevante was lowkey offended by her offer, he remembered that she didn’t know about his Dad. He also didn’t want an empty bed. Having a warm body in his bed felt good on nights when he felt alone. And she would have been just that.

Yeah. I’ll hit you later.

Okay, love. 😻😻😻

Trevante only knew one thing since college, the one thing that his fraternity brothers held dear: GWG: Gym. Work. Girls. Trevante was an early riser, hitting the gym at 5 AM, working out for two hours before work. His spent his work days as a marketing executive for small businesses and nonprofits, flexing his muscle at marketing launches and young Black executive networking events. Sadly, that’s where he would pick up his dates. Girls with dreams of Black power couples looked at Trevante as the ultimate catch. His face, body, complexion and confidence said enough.

His apartment was impressive too. Black and cobalt furniture, leather couches, sleek art. Posters of athletes. His kitchen was devoid of pots and pans but full of every meal prep service in the city. His favorite picture hung in his living room: A framed photo of Ken Griffey Jr, signed by the man himself. He kept memorabilia from college around his space, his fraternity regalia on a special stand near the entryway. A vintage record player sat in front of a window, his collection of jazz and 70’s R&B vinyl displayed around that case.

His bedroom was as bare as it could be. His king size bed took up most of the space, leaving him enough room for a speaker system to blast his favorite music. His black comforter, sheets and pillowcases were all he needed. He hid the small stuffed animal lion his sister gave him when his dates came around.

Trevante only carried workout clothes and suits. He only had one pair a jeans and few collared shirts for when he’d go out. He was simple yet striking. And always single.

Even through college, Trevante never kept a girlfriend for longer than four months. He never could grow attached, afraid to commit to even his own thoughts of a relationship. But he was also afraid that people would be afraid of his story: a kid with a father in jail and a mother dead of a broken heart. He kept his feelings close to his chest, never crying to anyone except himself. He was too tough to cry, too imposing to look soft. He didn’t cry at his mother’s funeral even though he wanted to. When he got into his car after the repass, he lost it. He vowed to never lose it like that again.

Until he did that day when Ciara came to his rescue.

Trevante always wondered who Ciara was. He’d watched her walk from her car into her apartment, slightly intrigued by her walk and her large bag. He would often notice that she carried in a bag from Hamilton Ave. Books, her University of Pennsylvania sweatshirt seemed like a security blanket. On Sundays mornings, he’d always hear her door close at 8:45 AM, signaling her travels to church. It used to wake him up, signaling that his late night special needed to leave.

If work was stressful, he’d head into the gym after work. He would always notice her on the treadmill, trying her best to keep up with her high intensity interval training. Cardio wasn’t his favorite, so he never stayed for long. And hardly paid attention to anybody in the gym after that.

He always wanted to be cordial with her, at least, given the fact that she was his next door neighbor. He once wanted to knock on her door just to say hi but couldn’t. Even in Tre’s confidence, he had moments of shyness. And nerdiness too.

Tre loved books. Philosophy, fiction, true crime. That’s why Ciara’s bookshelf fascinated him. And made him feel that he was right at home.

He realized as he packed his things to head down to his father’s funeral that he never opened up to a woman like that before. She was the first person that he told about his regrets about his father. And she just listened, never telling him that he was wrong to feel the way that he felt. That openness was something that eluded him too. But he didn’t know how to communicate his thanks to her. He felt like a knock on her door wasn’t enough.

He never sent flowers to a date. So that felt appropriate.

As he throws down his phone and picks up his controller, his eyes catch that poster of Ken Griffey Jr. Trying to fight the tears, Trevante tosses his controller on the floor and precedes to weep uncontrollably. The cries become louder as Tre punches the coffee table, breaking it into pieces.

Trevante tries his best to pull himself together, grabs his keys and heads over the gym. Ciara hears his door slam.

Taglist: @blackpinup22

#trevante rhodes x fanfiction #trevante rhodes #y'lan noel #fanfic #thy neighbor

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lovemesomesurveys · 5 years

Text

Have you ever had a period in your life where you were on a major health kick and you were really picky about what you consumed? Kiiiinda. I mean, there was a time when I was in either 8th or 9th grade where I kept track of what I was eating and would feel really guilty if I consumed a lot on a particular day or had too many sweets or something. I was worried about my weight at that time for some reason when I really shouldn’t have been. Currently, I should be on a major health kick and make sure I’m consuming a lot of protein and just a more well-balanced diet in general. Like my full servings of fruits and vegetables and all that.

If you have at least one sibling, have you ever wanted to be an only child? If you are an only child, have you ever wanted at least one sibling? No, I’ve never wanted to be an only child.

When is the last time you had a neck ache? Yesterday, actually.

What was the last medicine you took? My pain medicine.

How do you get ringtones/images/whatever onto your phone? Do you download them and pay money, download them for free, transfer them to your phone via USB cable, or something else? I don’t even get ringtones anymore, but the last time I did I just bought it on iTunes. I used to make my own back in the day with recordings, ha. As for photos, I either just take them with my phone camera so they’re saved on there already, or I save them to the phone. I can get a photo from Tumblr or something and save it to my phone that way.

How have you been feeling lately? Have you felt anything out of the ordinary? Haven’t been doing well for a long time. I battle with depression, if you can even call it a battle because it kicks my ass and has a control over me and I’m losing/lost big time, but yeah. It’s a chronic thing. I have physical health stuff as well that I’ve been dealing with, some of it being ongoing and chronic. These past few years have been especially rough.

Do you pretty much always like someone, or do you take breaks where you go for a little while without liking someone? I think this has been the longest time where I haven’t liked anyone, honestly. It’s been like 3/4 years now.

Do you ever drink flavored water? Do you have any favorite flavors? How about carbonated? I used to be into Propel and Vitamin Water, especially their Fruit Water (which they discontinued and I was sad cause it was the only carbonated water I liked and it made me feel like I was having a soda without actually drinking soda and it was just so good). I haven’t had any in years now.

What color are the kitchen walls in the house that you’re in? White.

Does your mom like to buy paintings and little knick knacks for decoration? Here and there. Knickknacks are more my thing, though.

Have you ever been on a cruise? If yes, would you again? If no, would you like to go? Nope. I think they sound fun, but I’d be so scared to actually go on one.

Have you ever bought a concrete statue and painted it, or is that not your type of thing? If you haven’t done it and you would be interested in doing it, what type of statues would you like to paint? I’ve never done or thought about doing that.

Do you have to charge your phone every night? Not every night, no.

When you condition in the shower, how do you make sure the conditioner gets all through out your hair? Do you run your fingers through it? Or perhaps brush it? I don’t condition, actually. I was told years ago my a hair stylist that it makes your hair more oily and I haven’t done it since. However, when I shampoo I just rub the shampoo between my hands and then work it through my hair. I get in there with my fingers to get the scalp and all that.

Who was the last person to piss you off? What did they do? Ehhh. It was just something annoying.

Do you miss your ex? What would you do to get them back? I miss Joseph sometimes, but I don’t want to start up anything again. I just miss having him in my life.

Everyone has a few demons, what’s your worst one? Hmm.

Have you ever cheated on somebody? No.

Are you a virgin? Yes.

Do you believe in ghosts? I believe in the supernatural.

If you knew your girlfriend/boyfriend would be truly happier without you, would you leave? I don’t even want to get involved with someone right now because I feel like I couldn’t give much of myself to someone or make someone happy.

If you liked someone with a terminal illness, would you still date them knowing they might not live much longer? I would be there for them and spend time with them. I don’t know if I’d start a relationship unless that was something they wanted.

If you sold your soul, what would it be for? I wouldn’t.

Would you ever kill someone? What would be a good reason? No.

Have you ever told a big lie, one that you felt bad for? Did you ever come clean? Yes.

Is there anything that you’d never do for any amount of money? Yeah, a lot of things.

Would you consider yourself vain or narcissistic? No, not even a little. I’m very much the opposite.

Are you open minded, or do you judge people and things before you give them a chance? I consider myself to be open-minded, but I can’t deny that there’s been times where I may have jumped the gun and judged before really knowing the situation or person.

Politics, what are your thoughts on them? I really avoid it these days. I used to try and pay attention to it, but ever since Trump I just couldn’t keep up with everything.

Do you prefer peace and quiet, or loud chaos? I don’t want loud chaos, but I don’t want it to be completely quiet either. Complete silence gives me anxiety.

Religion, what is yours? Do you believe in a God? I do believe in God and identify as Christian.

What is your sexual preference (straight, gay, bi, pan, ace)? Straight.

What is your favorite sexual position? I’m a virgin.

Do you ever want children? No.

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be? I’m not sure.

Do you do drugs? Drink? Smoke? Nope.

Would you ever have sex for money? No.

Give me a random lyric from the song you're listening to. I'm not listening to music.

How do you feel about the person you kissed last? I have no bad feelings towards him. I hope he’s doing well.

Do you regret doing anything this week? Yes.

Last awkward moment? My life is an awkward moment.

What are you missing? Who I used to be.

What do you do when a telemarketer calls? Ignore it.

Would you cry if you found out you were pregnant? Uh, yeah. I’m a virgin who can’t drive (lol had to throw in a Clueless quote and it’s true) and I can’t have kids anyway.

Have you been pressured to do anything recently? Not recently.

Do you think the concept of phone sex is stupid? Not my thing.

What side of the bed do you sleep on? I actually sleep in the middle, but vertically.

Would you rather go camping or to a five star hotel? 5-star hotel. I’m not a campy/outdoorsy person at all.

Are you okay with your ex being friends with your good friends? He used to be, actually. They were friends before he and I had a thing.

What was the first thing you thought this morning? Coffee.

Is the person you have a crush on older or younger than you? Alexander Skarsgard is 13 years older than me.

What did you do this weekend? I’m seeing Captain Marvel later today.

What are you going to do this weekend? ^^^.

Are you texting someone? No.

When was the last time you were given a rose? I’ve been given flowers for my graduations and for my birthday.

What type of guy do you usually fall for? Ones who don’t want me.

Have you ever cried over someone of the opposite sex? Too many times.

Who was the first person you talked to today? My dad.

Does anything on your body hurt right now? Of course.

How are you feeling at the moment? Tired.

Do you prefer hook ups or relationships? Relationships.

Do you hate when people lie to you? Depends, honestly. Obviously if it’s something hurtful/harmful.

Do you like ice coffee or it hot? Hot coffee.

1-10 : how tired are you? 10.

Are you ready to just move on with your life and be on your own? I’d like to more forward in life and actually do something, but not to be on my own.

What is something you think about a lot? Life and my health.

What are you wearing right now? Leggings and a long-sleeved shirt. I need to change and get ready to go soon.

Is there someone you want to walk in your doorway right now? No.

Have you ever felt lonely and scared? Yeah.

Are you a generally happy person? No.

Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend? Nope.

Where is your best friend right now? She’s at work.

Have your parents ever caught you drinking? No. I honestly didn’t drink until I was 21.

When was the last time you climbed through a window? I never have.

What were you doing last night at midnight? My Bible study.

Do you believe in yourself? No.

Would you rather have love or money? Love.

Is there anybody you need to fix things with right now? Yes. :/

How do you spend your summer nights? Same as every night.

Are you craving anything right now? No.

When is the next time you’ll go swimming? I don’t have any plans to.

Are things falling into place for you right now? No.

What was your relationship status this time last year? Single.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #long survey

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bxcketbarnes · 6 years

Text

A Hell of a Night

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Author: @ninja-stiles

Words: 2745

Author’s Note: Heyo! In honors of New Years and with @lovefilledtragedy‘s help I have created this cute ass fic... literally. My heart swooned while writing it, so I hope you guys end up enjoying it!!

I sat on the couch in our living room, watching Dustin and Lucas play his new Atari he got for Christmas. Lucas began yelling at Dustin, pushing him slightly to mess him up as I laughed, shaking my head at the two kids. The phone ringing snapped me out of my daze, getting off the couch, going to answer it.

“Hello?” I called out, pressing the teal phone against my ear as I continued to watch my brother and his best friend.

“Hey, Y/N?” Steve asked and the smile on my face grew one hearing my best friend’s voice.

“Oh, hey, Steve!” I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest, holding the phone against my ear with my shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Did Tina give you a flyer for her New Year’s party?” Steve questioned as I glanced behind my shoulder at the pile of books, notebooks, and folders of mine that are on the table.

“... No, I didn’t. But, uh, I’m not really friends with Tina so I’m not surprised that she didn’t invite me,” I told him, twirling the phone cable around my finger. I glanced towards the black and white checkered floor, hearing Steve’s breathing on the other end of the phone.

“Who’s she even talking to?” I heard Lucas whisper to my brother and I glanced up at the two young boys.

“Most likely Steve,” he muttered in response, his eyes glued to the small television. “He’s always calling her.”

“She’s friends with that guy?” Lucas asked and I rolled my eyes, shaking my head as I brought the end of the phone away from my mouth.

“He’s not a bad person, guys,” I called out, chuckling a bit as the two looked back towards me, their eyes wide in surprise that I could hear them. “You two should learn how to whisper better or wait until I’m out of the room,” I placed the end of the phone back towards my mouth.

“What was that about?” Steve asked and I laughed.

“Man, you have a lot of questions, Steve. Give me one second… I’m gonna go to my room, so we can talk, ALONE,” I yelled out the last word, glancing towards the two boys who suddenly ducked from the couch, lunging towards the Atari paddles. “Be right back.”

I hung up the phone, running to my room, closing the door behind me as I jumped onto my bed. I grabbed my phone off my bedside table, dialing Steve’s number quickly while holding the phone against my ear. It rings for like a second before he picked up.

“H-Hey,” Steve stuttered, breathing heavily as I narrowed my eyes, giggling slightly.

“Why does it sound like you’re out of breath?” I asked, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I, uh, ran to my room and you know how far away that is from the main phone,” he laughed and I grinned making a humming noise, knowing exactly what he means. “Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go to that party with me?”

My eyes widened, feeling my cheeks become a bit warm as I bit my lip softly. “O-Oh, you want me to go with you?” I asked, running my fingers through my hair.

I heard his laugh come through the phone, my heart fluttering at the sound. “That’s what I said.”

“I mean, there’s gotta be someone else you’d rather go with then boring old me,” I muttered, laying on my back as I stared at my popcorn ceiling.

“Why wouldn’t I? I think you’re great to hang out with,” he muttered, and I blushed, closing my eyes, internally groaning.

“Steve… your friends don’t exactly like me,” I mumbled quietly, nibbling on my bottom lip, waiting for his response.

“Well fuck them, then. Will you please just come with me? I’ll be by your side the entire time, I promise,” I sighed at his begging, thinking about it for a minute before giving in.

“Y-Yeah, I’ll go,” I stuttered, sitting up in my bed, staring at the phone in front of me. “Just… please don’t leave me for your shitty friends.”

My door bursts open, Dustin running into the room, quickly grabbing my phone. “If you hurt my sister you are dead Harrington, you hear me?” He threatened, my eyes widening as I glanced towards Lucas who was just nodding his head.

“Dustin!” I scolded, grabbing the phone from him. “He’s not going to hurt me,” I told him, sighing a bit.

“Yeah, what she said!” I heard Steve’s voice coming through the phone and I just pointed towards it with my eyebrows raised.

“Still! Just wanted to warn him,” he grinned before walking out with his friend. I got up, shutting the door, laughing a bit as I sat back down on my bed.

“Well, that was certainly interesting,” I muttered, pressing my lips together.

“You can say that. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Dustin sound so threatening,” Steve laughed and I could see headlights pulling into the driveway, signaling that my mother was home.

“Hey, my mom’s home so I should probably get off the phone,” I frowned, not exactly wanting to stop talking to him just yet.

“Aw, man. Alright, I’ll talk to you later,” Steve muttered, sounding a bit upset as well. Both of us said our goodbyes before hanging up. I placed my phone back on the nightstand, staring at the wall in front of me, a small smile creeping onto my lips.

I’m going to a party with Steve fucking Harrington.

It was the day of the party and I have been running around my room, trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to wear, not being successful in any way. I quickly picked up my phone, dialing my best friend, Audrey’s, number. I stood next to my nightstand, biting my nails as I listened to the ringing, letting out a small groan, “come on.”

“Hello?” Aud’s voice came through the other end and I sighed in relief.

“Audrey! Thank god you picked up. I need you to come over, right now,” I demanded, sitting on the bed as I glanced out the window, seeing the snow falling to the ground.

“What? Why? You know what, alright. I’ll be over in five minutes,” she said before hanging up. I slumped on my bed, leaning my head back as a breath left my lips.

I stood back up, scratching my cheek as I stared into my closet that’s full of clothes. A knock on my door snapped me out of my thoughts, walking towards the door, opening it quickly.

“Hey, glad you’re here,” I mumbled, closing the door after she walked in. She sat on my bed, her eyebrows raised as she was most likely wondering why she was here. “Right, so, I need help finding an outfit for tonight’s party.” I bit my lip, running my hands through my hair.

“Party? You mean Tina’s party?” Aud asked and I nodded my head slowly. “Holy shit. You got invited?” She asked another and I shrugged a bit.

“Well, I mean, no. But, Steve wanted me to go with him,” I told her, a blush dusting my cheeks. My best friend smirked, standing up from the bed going over to my closet, looking through the clothes that I had hung up.

“Oh la la. Steve, huh?” She grinned, giving me a cheeky wink as I groaned, shaking my head.

“I-It’s not like that, at all,” I muttered, glancing towards the floor.

“Sure, sure. I’ll totally believe that you haven’t had a crush on Steve Harrington for almost three years and that you’re having a hard time figuring out what to wear, because you want to impress him,” she grinned, pulling out a pair of dark denim jeans, a white tank top, and a cute Christmas sweater my mother had gotten me for a party we attended to Christmas Eve.

After getting changed into what Audrey picked out, I looked at myself in the mirror, a small smile creeping onto my face. “Good pick,” I told her, walking towards my vanity, putting on some light makeup. I fix my hair a bit, turning around to face my best friend as I raised my eyebrows. “Well, how do I look?”

“You look incredible, Y/N. You’ll definitely make him swoon,” she grinned, patting my back softly.

“O-Oh, no, no. There’s no way Steve would go for me,” I whispered, staring at myself in the mirror.

She was about to say something when Dustin barged into my room. I furrowed my eyebrows at my younger brother as he had a stupid grin on his face. “Your boyfriend’s here,” he teased and I rolled my eyes, bringing him into a headlock, ruffling his hair.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Dusty,” I laughed, giving him a tight hug as he tried to wriggle out of my grasp.

“Well, boyfriend or not he’s here,” he told me, getting out of my grasp before running out of my room. My heartbeat began to pound against my ribcage, my hands becoming a bit sweaty as I glanced back at Audrey.

“You’re going to be fine, girl. Just be yourself,” she told me and I nodded my head, dusting my sweater off before walking out of my room, heading towards the living room. Audrey followed behind me as I noticed Steve standing in the doorway, hands shoved into his jean pockets.

I clasped my hands together as I walked towards my best friend. His eyes lit up as he saw me, taking one of the hands out of his pockets to run it through his hair. “Hey, ready to go?” Steve asked and I nodded my head, stepping closer to the charming boy.

“Yeah… Mom! I’m heading out, be back later,” I call out, hearing her yell “have fun,” back at me. Steve and I walked out of the house, heading towards his car. The two of us sat in silence as he drove towards Tina’s, the faint sound of Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) playing on the radio. I softly hum the tune of the addicting song, looking out the window as I noticed him look over at me a few times.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Steve muttered and I looked over towards him, smiling a bit. I pressed my lips together as I tried to hide my smile.

“T-Thank you, Steve. You don’t look so bad yourself,” I grinned, hiding my face in my shoulder, looking up at him. He just smiled, giving me a cheeky wink and I’m glad that it’s dark, otherwise he’d be able to see me blushing.

We pulled up outside Tina’s house, seeing the abundance of people through her bay window and I can feel my hands begin to shake. I stared at the scene, not noticing Steve getting out of the vehicle until he opens up my door for me.

I looked up at him, lips parted as I quickly got out. “S-Sorry. Uhm-,” I started, but Steve cut me off.

“It’s going to be okay, Y/N. I’m not going to leave your side. If it makes you feel better you can either hold my hand or link arms,” he offered and I smiled, loving how sweet he’s being.

“C-Can I…?” I stuttered, holding my hand out towards his. Steve nodded his head, grinning ear to ear as he grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers. My cheeks heated up, blushing majorly as the two of us walked towards the front door. We got into the house, eyes glancing towards us as some people furrowed their eyebrows together in confusion.

I felt Steve rub his thumb against the back of his hand, leading me towards the kitchen as he handed me a small glass of champagne. He grabbed himself one, holding it towards me as we clinked glasses. “Cheers,” he grinned, taking a small sip as did I.

I glanced towards the clock, seeing that we still had a couple hours until it hit midnight. Someone bumped into me roughly, causing me to jolt forward straight into Steve. I muttered an apology as his arm wrapped around my waist to stop me from tripping or something. I looked up at him through my eyelashes, my heart pounding against my chest as I swallowed thickly.

One of my hands were on his chest, glancing behind me to see Tina standing behind me, a small smirk on her face. I looked back at Steve with a confused look on my face as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Happy New Years you two,” she slurred, getting some more champagne as I gave her a small smile, nodding my head in return. Tina walked away after downing two small glasses, going back over to her boyfriend as they began making out, my face scrunching up in disgust.

“Do you want to go to a more quieter area?” Steve asked and I nodded my head, thankful he can notice my uncomfortableness. He grabbed a bottle of champagne while motioning me to grab a couple plates of food. I grab what we need before following him into another living room type area that’s much more quieter with no one around.

We sat on the couch, facing each other as we just talked about everything going on in our lives. Our knees were touching as it seemed that we were gravitating closer to each other.

“You know, I honestly thought this party would end up pretty shitty, but I’m honestly having a great time,” I smiled, taking a sip of champagne.

Steve tucked a strand of hair out of my face and behind my ear, smiling widely as he nodded his head. “I honestly couldn’t agree more. Spending time with just you is great. And you said you were boring,” he shakes his head, tsking at me as I chuckled, biting my lip.

The two of us snapped our heads towards the sound of everyone beginning to countdown and I looked over at the clock, seeing it was 11:59. “It’s almost midnight already?” I asked, baffled that we had lost track of time.

10, 9, 8, 7…

I turned my gaze back to Steve, seeing his eyes already on me as my breath hitched in my throat. He placed our glasses on the coffee table in front of us, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

6, 5, 4, 3…

My hands rested on his chest, feeling the soft material of his sweater he’s wearing as our faces were centimeters away from each other. I can feel his breath hit my lips, my eyes fluttering shut as his hand rests on my cheek.

2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR

Steve planted his lips on mine, my heart skipping a beat as I gripped his sweater. I tilted my head to the side, moving my lips against his, wrapping my other arm around his neck, gliding my fingers through his soft hair. The sounds around us drowned out as it seemed like it was just the two of us and not a bunch of drunk ass teenagers that are blowing horns around the house.

I ended up pulling away from the kiss, breathing heavily as did Steve. Our eyes connected as my cheeks flushed, Steve pressing a small kiss to my heated cheek.

“Steve…” I muttered, my cheeks heating up more as he grinned. “You’re making the blushing worse.”

“That’s okay. You look super cute when blushing,” he told me, taking a sip of his drink. “You know what, let’s get out of here. My parents are home, so we could go back to my place watch some movies and possibly cuddle?” Steve offered and I agreed almost immediately.

The two of us left the party, no one actually noticing since they were busy drinking and making out. We arrived at Steve’s house about ten minutes later, quickly getting inside since it was absolutely freezing outside. I sat down on Steve’s couch as he set up the VCR player, admiring him just a bit. Once he got the movie going he sat down on the couch next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, leaning against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, snuggling closer to him as our eyes were trained on the movie in front of us.

Boy oh boy… what a night.

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lordsicheng · 6 years

Text

Sea of Lost Love: Pt. 1

Park Jihoon x OC

g: fluff

summary: you used to visit your grandma who lived by the sea in her beach home when you were younger, and you finally returned after several years of not going. not only did you long for the gentle breeze of the sea, but your heart also became excited to see that special friend who has also longed for your return

a/n: i know i still have some overdue stuff and i seem to skip finishing some other stories but i sweaaar i’ll post them all completely before the week ends plus i’ll start posting/writing the other prompts too, also i wrote this while in dubai and i FINALLY got the file back hurraaahhh anyways this only has two parts, this is more fluffy so prepare for the angst on the second part warning warning

You looked up the sky and saw the sun shone brightly, making you raise your hand to cover the rays from getting unto your eyes. You smiled at how the day was pleasantly warm, unlike the other days it felt whenever you got a chance to visit your grandmother’s beach house

“Y/n! Mom’s looking for you!” your brother called out

“I’ll be there!” you yelled back, turning your head again to watch the waves crash unto the shore

You slowly stood up and were about to walk away, wiping your clothes as sand were stuck to some spots. Your grabbed your handkerchief from your pocket to help wipe yourself, but as you spread it out, the wind blew it away, making you startled as you followed it to where it got to: on a boy’s hand

“You’re still quite clumsy, I see.” he chuckled

You looked at him with furrowed brows, confused as to why he would speak to you that way when you thought it was the first time you just met him. His puffy cheeks, perfectly shaped eyes, and pleasant smile. It hit you that it was someone from your past, making your eyes glisten as you slowly walked near him

“J-Jihoon?” you gasped, examining his features for it was definitely different from when you last saw him

“You guessed it.” he grinned

“Jihoon!” you exclaimed as you ran towards him to give him a hug, him hugging back as he swayed you side to side from the excitement of seeing you again

You looked at all the adults talk to each other while you and your brother remained quiet on the dining table. Your brother just kept on eating, probably almost on his third plate, and you just kept poking on your mashed potatoes with your fork. You told Jihoon to meet you by 7, the time already past 6 as you checked on the side

“Y/n, dear, don’t play with your food.” your mom said as she chewed on her meal

“Sorry, mom. I’m really not that hungry.” you smiled

“Well, you ate a whole bag of Lays in the car on the way and ate a tub of Pringles, so how am I even surprised.” your brother rolled his eyes, laughing

“Ha ha, funny.” you gave a straight face as you looked at him

“Oh, y/n, your grandmother wanted to know if you wanted to spend the next few days here.” your father asked

“I’d love to. Just as long as Woojin doesn’t stay too.” you glared at your brother

“I don’t have plans on staying here either, sis.” he smiled sarcastically to you before continuing his meal

“We’re going home tomorrow morning. I’ll come back on Saturday.” your dad assured, making you nod as you slowly continued to eat

Jihoon waited for you by some of the bedrocks nearby, throwing a couple of stones before you arrived and sat next to him. He gave you a warm smile as you situated yourself next to him and began to take deep breaths as you took in the cold gust of the night

“I haven’t seen you here in a long while.” Jihoon said as he looked at you

“I sadly am a city girl.” you pouted while looking back

“Nothing much has changed here. Just that there are about a couple of families that have built beach houses nearby.” he sighed, looking at the direction of the small village that was situated nearby

“You haven’t left since?” you asked, raising your brow as he turned again to look at you

“I have, just that I go here every weekend to visit family. I go to school at a city nearby and I live with two other people.” he nodded

“You’ve changed a lot. When was the last time I saw you? Eight? Nine years ago?” you laughed as you looked at the sea in front of you

“Nine years ago. And yes, I’ve obviously changed.” Jihoon playfully rolled his eyes as he leaned back a bit with the support of his palms on the rocks, enjoying the view of the sea with you

“I missed you.” Jihoon shyly admitted, pouting as he looked down

“I missed my little chubby playmate too.” you looked at him and smiled, making him scrunch his face a bit and turned his head to look at you

“Chubby?” he said in an appalled way

“Hey, I was chubby then too!” you crossed your arms in defense

“We both have obviously changed. I’ve become manlier, and you’re…” he paused, looking at you until he stopped to your eyes

“I’m?” you tilted your head, curious as to why he had stopped speaking

“Y/n? Where are you?” you heard someone from afar, probably your mother, calling you. You hurriedly stood up and tried to fix yourself before turning to Jihoon who also stood up

“Tomorrow, 11am.” you whispered, and he nodded quickly as you turned again to run off carefully back to the beach house. Jihoon slowly turned the other way and went back to his home, turning once more to see if you have left and then running back to his tracks.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be fine for the rest of the week?” your mom asked as she looked at you standing while they were already in the car

“Very sure. Grandma’s here, I have internet and cable TV here, the sea is here, food is great here.” you smiled widely as you leaned down to the window

“Call us if you need anything for your dad to bring by the weekend.” she said as she nodded

“Alright. See you guys. Mom, dad.” you smiled before turning your head to look at your brother

“Woojin.” you gave a stank eye, him putting out his tongue in reply and laughing as your dad drove off the house’s driveway, you and your grandma waving goodbye to them

“Ah, you’re gonna have so much fun here.” your grandmother said as she pat your shoulder

“I’m most likely going to be hanging out by the sea if I’m not home, grandma.” you smiled

“Oh? You and Jihoon have met again?” she asked in surprise

“Wait, how’d you know, grandma?” you crossed your arms

“Y/n, you always talked to me about Jihoon when you were younger. His grandmother and I are close. We’re actually gonna go and play bingo at our other friend’s house later.” she giggled as she turned to go to the doorway

“Has Jihoon ever visited the beach house, grandma?” you asked, walking next to her

“Many times, yes. Whenever you were not around, he would often ask where you were.” she said as she opened the door and let you both inside

You saw Jihoon from afar kicking his feet lightly on the water that hit the shore, you only able to chuckle at his cuteness as you ran towards him. He heard the splatter of the water from your running and turned to see you, also slowly running away from you and laughing. You suddenly became flustered as to why he ran off away from you

“Ya! Park Jihoon!” you yelled

“Try and catch me!” he laughed, making you suddenly remember a memory of when you and him played the same catching game by the shore

“Try and catch me!” a younger Jihoon said as you imagined the whole setting from the past, remembering how you were not able to catch him because your stamina wasn’t as great as to now.

You remembered how you pouted and sat on the sand because of your tiredness, making Jihoon stop running and walk up to you, wiping your tears away as he saw you were injured by a small shell you stepped on from running. That time, you and him just became close because he was probably the only playmate you had within the area. You’d get teases from your grandma and he would get from his too, but you knew it would only be a figment of your imagination that you both would end up together in the future.

You snapped back to reality and realized you were still running to catch Jihoon, finally gathering the most out of your strength to be able to run faster and finally catch up to him, grabbing the collar of his shirt as he turned and laughed the moment you were able to finally get a grasp of him

“Gotcha!” you exclaimed as you panted, Jihoon also becoming tired from running under the sun

“Ah, you’ve become stronger.” he shook his head as he bent a bit and put his hands on his knees, you trying to catch your breath

“Guess being part of the track and field team helped.” you said in between pants, slightly chuckling

You and Jihoon sat on the bedrocks again, just enjoying the view from side to side where the beautiful beach houses were situated by the shore at one side and the other of a small flock of trees were situated. He looked at you, mind full of wonders of how it was possible for you both to meet again as he never thought you would come back anytime soon whenever he was around

“How long will you be staying?” he asked, letting out a slight sigh

“Until Saturday.” you nodded, still looking at the sea

“So you have only two days left?”

“I can’t leave my life there, Jihoon.” you shook your head

“I understand.” he nodded, looking at the sea

You both became silent for a while, becoming appreciative of the sight that was in front of both of you. You stole a few glances at Jihoon, whose expression was somewhat in between relaxed and sullen, perhaps leaning the latter. You took a deep breath and nodded before you spoke, turning your head forward to look at the scenery once again

“Has anything changed since I last came here?” you asked, pursing your lips

“Lots of things. There’s a cool market nearby, they sell lots of handmade jewelry and personal items, even clothing. There’s also a nightly barbecue that covers over half the street at night where people get to eat by the street facing the ocean. Also, there’s a dance party every Friday. Don’t worry, it’s appropriate for all ages.” he chuckled, remembering all the new stuff that’s been happening in the area on the top of his mind

“Market, you say?” you raised a brow and smirked, Jihoon’s attention diverting to you

You and Jihoon walked through a street near the seaside where it was full of small stores and some small restaurants, where you became curious as to how it became very developed within the years you were gone. Jihoon almost lost track of you as he walked further from you because you were busy wandering around. He noticed you weren’t by him and he turned to look for you and walked back on his tracks. He saw you near a shop that sold beautiful handmade jewelry, smiling as he walked over to you looking through the necklaces that had different sizes and colors of seashells on them

“Pretty, right?” the lady at the store said as she approached you

“How much?” Jihoon said as he walked over, making you look at him

“Shh, no, Jihoon I was just looking.” you whispered as you put back the necklace

“It’s fine, she’s my mom’s friend.” Jihoon whispered back

“Ah, is this girl…?” the lady raised a brow while smiling, making Jihoon look perplexed

“Oh, no. Please don’t misunderstand.” Jihoon chuckled as he grabbed his wallet

“No, it’s fine, Jihoon. I’ll come back tomorrow.” you assured

“Hmm, there’s this necklace Jihoon has been eyeing for the longest time.” the lady said as she scanned through the display of her jewelry where she saw a necklace that had a pendant of different colors of stained glasses, grabbing it with its box as she handed it to Jihoon

“Give it to her. No need to pay.” she chuckled as she walked to the other side of the store once her husband called her, turning towards you and Jihoon before leaving

“Tell your mom I said hi.” she waved as she walked away, you and Jihoon looking at each other in confusion and ending it with a laugh as you both went out of the store

“You hungry?” Jihoon asked as you both continued walking through the street

“Kinda.” you shrugged

“Let’s eat, come on.” he said as he grabbed your hand to a nearby restaurant he frequented, making your heart skip a bit the moment you felt the softness of his palms

“I’m surprised you’re still as playful as ever.” you rolled your eyes while eating some seafood at the restaurant, Jihoon pouting like a kid the more you teased him

“You’re calling me playful when you used to kick the sandcastles I made. They were masterpieces!” he exclaimed as he raised his arms, making you laugh

“Could you be any more obvious? People are gonna look at us.” you whispered, giggling in between

“Sorry. But really, we need to make sandcastles later. Bigger and better ones.” he chomped on the barbecue skewer he ate on

“I’m still going to make mine better than yours.” you teased, making him roll his eyes

“I hope the sharks attack your sandcastle.” he mumbled

“There are sharks?!” you gasped, widening your eyes as your cheeks puffed from all the food you ate, making Jihoon laugh at how cute you looked

“Just keep eating.” he chuckled, making you pout and continue to eat while looking at your plate. Jihoon couldn’t hide his smile the moment you looked away, his heart still in sparks as he finally saw you again after years of waiting for your return since he thought you were never to come back.

#wanna one #wannaone #park jihoon #jihoon #wanna one scenarios #wanna one imagines #wanna one reactions #park jihoon scenarios #park jihoon imagines #park jihoon reactions

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mikeyhatesit113 · 3 years

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forever and never: Chapter 8

“I like those new Lancers,” Janie says with a coy smile. She says she loves their appearance and really wants one.

I ponder her words for a moment and almost immediately come to my decision.

I’m going to go buy her a Lancer.

On the morning of, I drove her Corolla to work and right afterwards, I drove to the Mitsubishi dealership. After some perusing and brief haggling, the salesman says that he’ll see what he can do and give me a call.

It seems that he’ll have to do some negotiating with the banks due to my debt-to-income ratio, despite my great credit.

I go home, and not even 20 minutes later, he calls me back.

“Bring your $400 and the Corolla. Let’s go ahead with the trade-in.”

I drive a new Mitsubishi Lancer off the lot that day, and when I arrive home, Janie is ecstatic.

She has the car she really wanted, and I came through once again.

I feel happy that I’m able to make her happy. It’s what makes me feel good.

4 Months Later

I walk in the darkness back to our empty townhouse, the lights still on inside. It feels like a crime scene, and as far as I was concerned, it might as well have been one.

Her beautiful Lancer sits in the driveway, motionless and empty in the night.

Kelly and Dan greet me on my doorstep. After my phone call to Kelly about the mystery number, she and Dan decided that something was really wrong. Being they lived in the same development, they got ready and walked over as soon as they could.

“She’s gone,” I told them as their eyes searched me for answers.

“Where?” asked Kelly.

“I don’t know, but she’s with whoever’s phone number that was,” I said.

Kelly is horrified, and the usually hilarious Dan is lost for words. I can relate to both of them. But there was no time to cry and speculate, because I had done enough of that. I was certain this was the end, and I needed their help.

“Can you guys drive the Lancer to my sister’s house?” I asked. “Sure,” said Kelly.

If this was the end, I needed to remove the Lancer from her access, and I had the perfect hiding place in the gravel parking area at my sister’s.

Kelly followed my car in the Lancer as we drove to my sister’s. Dan sat in the passenger seat of my car, telling me that Janie and I were no good for each other. I needed to move on.

My heart sunk lower and lower as I listened to his words. I didn’t exactly value his opinion, as he was no perfect husband himself, but even still, hearing another human being pronounce your relationship dead is never comforting.

I hear Dan’s words, but my mind of course drifts off to Janie.

Who she’s with. Where they’re at.

What they’re doing.

We park the Lancer at my sister’s house, and I take Kelly and Dan home. After arriving back to my own home, I didn’t even attempt sleep.

It was 3:00am. The dead of night, but I’d have to wake up in less than 2 hours anyway. And if this was indeed the end, I needed to start the packing phase.

I didn’t know where I was going, but anywhere seemed better than where I was at. Janie and I had some nasty fights before, but nothing like what had taken place before her departure into the night. How could we ever come back from that?

I un-install the cable box and start boxing up DVD’s. In less than a half hour, the living area looks like a half finished room.

Before I knew it, it was time to get ready for work. I shower, dress, and step back out into the muggy Summer night. I drive to work, not knowing what the sunrise would bring.

At some point that morning, I spoke to Janie’s mom. “She’s with another man,” I told her. “Yeah, and I have an idea with who,” her mom says ominously.

She didn’t care to elaborate.

I went about my work duties like a robot without programming, completely on autopilot. I didn’t bother contacting Janie. Why should I?

Maybe that’s why I looked down at my phone later in the day and saw a MISSED CALL from her. My heart skipped a beat as the dread washed over me.

Was this an apology? Was this asking me when I’d be moving out? Was it her mystery man calling me to continue with his career advice he had so kindly provided the night before?

I called her back, and she answered.

“After work, do you want to talk?” she asked.

Her voice was no longer hostile and belligerent. It was calm, almost monotone.

“Sure,” I said.

After work, I drove home. But she wasn’t there. Instead, she was across the street, sun bathing in her mom’s backyard.

I walked over to her, and she laid there, looking up at the sky in her sunglasses.

“Where’d you go last night?” I asked immediately.

“He picked me up,” she said.

“Who” I asked, standing there as my heart pounded inside my chest. The questions that had tortured me over the past few weeks were about to receive answers.

“Shawn, my ex-boyfriend from high school,” she said. “I ran into him the day of your Sheriff’s test, and we exchanged numbers. Over the past few weeks, he was able to provide answers about the problems we’ve been having,” she explained.

“He was fair, and he was able to tell me how you were feeling,” she continued. “He’d even tell me when I was wrong,” she said.

“So, where did he take you last night?” I asked, trying to soak in the information.

“He left work and drove me to a hotel, and then went back to work,” she replied. “And this morning, when he got off of work, he came and picked me up and drove me to work.”

What a nice guy, I thought.

“How’d you pay for it?” I asked.

From what I knew, Janie didn’t exactly to have the disposable income to book one-night stays at local hotels. In fact, many times, she requested my debit card to go shopping.

“I paid in cash,” she said.

“Do you have a receipt?” I asked.

“No, I don’t,” she answered.

“But this morning, I told him that we can’t be friends anymore,” she said. “I told him that asking for his advice was wrong, and I need to work on my marriage alone,” she explained.

Amidst the practical disbelief in this story, as she couldn’t even provide physical proof of this hotel stay, a wave of relief did wash over me.

I wasn’t a piece of shit. She didn’t hate me. She wanted to work on us.

I didn’t have to find a new home, after all.

And just like that, I was back in it. I was ready to work on our marriage, too.

Another night of mystery without hard evidence of any scenario.

No evidence she cheated. No evidence she hadn’t.

Not Guilty.

“Can I have my car back?” she asked with a sheepish grin.

-------

The rest of the year finished without incident, although nothing was necessarily fixed. We had just swept the issues under a pretty rug, removing them from plain sight.

In fact, we started looking toward brighter horizons.

Possibly being homeowners, though we didn’t have pennies for a down payment on anything.

Possibly being new parents.

After Janie’s second child, she had gotten her tubes tied. In retrospect, she blamed Jay for that decision, and expressed resentment that he was able to have more children while she couldn't. However, as the years went on, we discussed the possibility of having child of our own together, and we looked into the tubal reversal process.

The doctor walked us through the process, and finished with the $10,000+ price tag. Quite a hefty price to pay for a procedure that could never guarantee a pregnancy.

But I was willing to try. Deflated, we left the appointment in separate cars, and I called a loan company that had recently sent me a “pre-approval” in the mail. The agent took my information and current expenses, but in the end, my debt-to-income ratio was too high.

If, however, she had approved me for a $15,000 loan, I would have absolutely went through with it and paid for Janie’s tubal reversal.

From a personal standpoint, I was no longer the fresh 20-year-old kid I started out as.

I was now 24 years old, and with some scars of my own now, I wasn’t as keen on celebrating our love story. Every year, we celebrated our 11/01/07 anniversary, but as the years went on, I began to feel more shame about that anniversary than I ever had.

Our 1 year wedding anniversary didn’t even feel genuine. We went to a Victorian-themed Murder Mystery weekend that took place in a Gettysburg hotel, and on Sunday morning, we exchanged gifts.

She gave me a Sons of Anarchy belt buckle.

I have her a pricey necklace, but she expressed dissatisfaction.

She even pointed out that I had not gotten her the $1600 Victorian ring she had been willing to trade her wedding ring in for.

Everything felt wrong, and now it seemed that my gifts were no good anymore.

In a slow build, the year went on and Summer came once again.

And so did the fighting.

No house, no baby, and now it seemed there could be no peace.

On top of the underlining distrust and mysteries of our relationship altogether, every little disagreement turned into a fight.

With so much spilled gasoline all around us, even the strike of just one match could incinerate everything around us.

The perfect birthdays were now even tainted, let alone the fact that I had missed Brock’s previous two due to these clandestine encounters.

James’ 10th birthday came around, and he was big into zombies that year. In turn, we bought him a zombie cake and I even dressed up like a zombie, roaming around his party and scaring his friends that were invited.

Later that day, my friend and I ran to the store to buy a fire pit for the evening, When we returned to the party, we were disturbed to find confused guests in the back yard, mostly members of my family.

“She took a bunch of people across the street to go swimming at her moms?” my aunt said as she packed up her things.

I apologized to the departing guests and as evening fell, Janie didn’t come back over. Instead, she conversed with one of her mother’s friends that had arrived in her mom’s back yard. He was an older man (ordinarily no threat), but she sipped her beers and listened intently to everything he had to say.

He was clearly enjoying the attention, and as I walked past her mother’s back yard, she looked over and smirked at my clear discontent over how the day had ended up.

My best friend watched me have an emotional meltdown in the house and had to stop me from packing up my things again that day.

Things were quickly spiraling out of control. Jealousy was rampant like a virus.

Too much damage had been done, and our freight train was threatening to derail at any moment. But whether it was the kids, or the comforts of home, or the fact that I unmistakably loved her...or all of the above...I couldn’t jump off.

But perhaps, July 4th would deliver the first of several fatal blows.

The day started off normally, but not long after we got our day started, it was clear that we were not going to be getting along that day.

The children were with Jay, and after a fiery argument, we parted ways from one another. She went to wherever she wanted to go, and I went with my best friend, abandoning our plans to go to the firework display with Bill.

SIDE NOTE: Bill, my groomsman and good friend, had since separated from his girlfriend Monica. Their infant daughter was caught in the crossfire of their rather nasty breakup, where they both tried to get Janie and I to testify that the other parent was unfit to raise their daughter. This would prove to be very important and critical.

I hung out with my best friend, Jose, and as usual, I didn’t hear a word from Janie all day. I gave strict instructions to Jose NOT to share my whereabouts with Janie. Odd as it may sound, but I had become wise to her strategy of requesting my location from other people. This would give her an idea of where I was, and give her clearance to do whatever she wanted to do, knowing I was not near her.

Consider it a way of tracking me, so to speak.

Night fell, and as Jose’s car sped along a major roadway, I saw a beautiful fireworks display in the distance. Aside from feeling numb, and I still felt enough to recognize the empty pang in my heart.

I knew things were broken...

We went to another friend’s house and played video games.

Unbeknownst to me, Janie texted Jose while we were at the friend’s house. As I sat playing video games and trying to enjoy myself, Jose was texting her that I was with him.

Janie knew who I was with, and now she knew how far away I was.

Hours later, I arrived home and crawled into bed with Janie. A toxic couple becomes extremely comfortable with having terrible fights and day-long arguments, but also crawling into bed together at the end of the day.

Maybe out of habit. Maybe out of the remanants of love.

Probably somewhere in the middle.

------

Over the next few weeks after July 4th, I saw more of Bill than I ever had. In his separation with Monica, we were sure to invite him over to our home for bonfires and little cookouts with other friends.

He’d show up alone. He’d show up with his daughter. He’d show up with a girl he was dating.

One night, I even noticed that him and Janie were missing from a party we were throwing.

“Where’s Janie?” I asked.

“Oh, her and Bill ran down to the store real quick for chips and dip,” someone replied.

...

I also noticed Janie coming home later than usual after work. Sometimes she’d have work meetings at a local bar and grill. Other times she’d want to stop by the mall, where she even brought me home a new pair of shoes one day.

In any event, things seemed to be drifting back into unfamiliar familiar waters, but I did my best to think positive.

Perhaps, things began taking shape one fateful night that I’ll never forget.

Weeks in advance, I scheduled for a few friends to come over and watch old home videos we filmed when we were younger. I didn’t get to see or speak to these friends as often as I would have liked, so it seemed like a great idea to get together and revisit our childhood memories. Janie was on board with this...until the day of.

After running morning errands that Saturday, we returned home and I was going to take a nap.

“Hey, is it ok if Bill brings his daughter over so I can see her?” asked Janie.

“Sure,” I said.

I knew how much Janie enjoyed kids, as she continued working in the field. She had since switched daycare centers to a more community-based childcare center for less money, but more career opportunities. I supported her all of the way.

I went to take a nap, and I woke up about 2 hours later close to the time I had wanted to wake up. I looked out of the window, and I saw Bill’s car parked out front.

Almost immediately, I heard heavy footsteps thundering up the stairs. The door burst open, and Bill came rushing in, laughing and hollering.

“Get your ass up!” he yelled with that signature goofy grin.

Bill was leaving shortly after, but Janie announced that she had invited more people over for a separate bonfire in the back yard. Her own guests included her parents, my uncle and his girlfriend, and Bill?

Bill asked me if I minded if he came back later. “Of course not,” I said.

My friends arrived soon after, and shortly after that, Janie’s bonfire got started in the back yard. After dropping his daughter off to his mother, whom he lived at home with, Bill returned to our house.

“This is Bill,” I announced to my friends. “He’s cool, he’s one of us,” I said, alluding to his personality that seemed in-step with my buddies and I.

But he didn’t choose to hang with my friends and I. He chose to attend Janie’s bonfire.

The two separate parties got underway, and I excused myself to the kitchen to get a drink.

As I poured myself a glass of iced tea, my uncle came in from the back yard.

“Hey Mikey, who’s that dude in the back yard?” he asked.

“Who?” I asked.

“The one who kind of looks like you,” he said.

“Oh, Bill,” I replied. “That’s one of my best friends, he was in my groom’s party.”

My uncle stepped closer to me, lowering his voice.

“Mike, watch him.”

From the living room, I hear my friends laugh hysterically at the television that showed another dumb stunt of ours.

From our youth. Such a simpler time.

Oh, fuck.

“Come again?” I asked.

“I’m not trying to stir anything up, but I’ve seen guys like him. Watch him,” my uncle insisted.

I chuckled uncomfortably.

“Mike, I’m serious. Whatever she wants, he does it. He's pouring her drinks. Putting more wood on the fire. He’s sitting right next to her, something isn’t right,” my uncle spoke.

“Mike! Come here!” one of my buddies yells from the living room, rewinding the DVD to the part he wants to show me.

My heart races. My stomach turns.

I chuckle nervously.

“Mike, I’m seri-” my uncle starts, but I cut him off.

“I know, I know,” I hiss. “Let me wrap this party up, and then I’ll be out to the fire,” I say.

I returned to the living room and sat with my friends. I laughed along with them, but in all honesty, I could not wait for them to leave my house.

I wanted them to continue thinking I’m doing well. I wanted them to continue thinking I’m happily married. I did not want them to even get a sniff of what was happening in my back yard.

And I did not want them to see what was going to happen next.

Mercifully, they announced they had to get home, and I thanked them profusely for coming. I was truly grateful. I watched them leave, waving merrily.

Now, I had a fucking bonfire to attend.

I went to the back yard and sat in a chair. Bill was seated next to her, and Janie looked disinterested at my arrival.

We chatted casually, but it felt like I had intruded on a party that I wasn’t invited to.

My uncle sipped his beer casually in his seat, trying to look nonchalant.

We played a game where we had to name the last person we’d talk to if we were dying, and what we would say.

Janie’s answer was Brock and James, and she’d tell them that she loved them very much and did the best that she could.

Bill’s answer was, “Ekim Pper! And I’d tell him, see you in hell!”

I didn’t get the joke.

Then, out of the blue, Janie asked Bill if he was spending the night.

I found this odd, as Bill had never spent the night before, and he wasn’t even drinking.

“I wasn’t going to, but I could?” replied Bill.

“Yeah, you could sleep in Brock’s or James’s bed,” she said.

I couldn’t resist myself.

“Or, you could shack up with my wife?” I offered.

Janie gave me a murderous look, Bill shifted uncomfortably, and Janie’s mom said, “Now, come on, Michael.”

The bonfire ended soon after. Bill didn’t use his “Spend the Night” card, and Janie’s parents went back to their house.

Only my uncle and his girlfriend remained in the kitchen with us, and I couldn’t wait for them to leave either.

There was a vicious fight brewing, and they were standing in my way. Janie and I sniped at each other, and my uncle’s well-intentioned anecdotes to defuse the tension were futile.

We were two caged lions, ready to rip each other to fucking shreds.

My uncle and his girlfriend left, and as soon as the door closed, we started in at each other. Venom and toxic poison filled the air. Words more powerful than fists, thrown at each other with reckless abandon.

Intent to maim. Intent to destroy.

This is who we were.

“You have problems!” I scream at her.

“Yeah, and one of them was marrying you,” she fires back.

“Fuck this, man, I’M OUT!” I scream.

I turn my back and walk across the kitchen to retrieve my keys. Behind me, Janie breaks into a sprint and launches herself at me, knocking me forward.

I wheel around, fury filling every pore of my body.

“Touch me again, and I’ll have your fucking ass hauled out of here in handcuffs!” I scream.

Would you believe me if I told you we somehow went to bed together that night?

Because we did.

Remember? Toxic couples, habits, broken shards of love, etc.

The next morning, we woke up pleasant enough. That night, I was performing amateur stand-up comedy at a local club.

Janie left the house that morning to go buy an outfit, and I left to buy a new shirt of my own.

That night, a bunch of my friends, family, and Janie gathered to watch me perform. Before the performance, Bill showed up and wished me well.

However, right before the show started, he abruptly left, citing a “babysitting issue”.

I took definite notice to Janie not caring at all about his departure, which was a stark contrast to the previous night’s events.

I performed my set, and it was one of my best sets ever. The crowd laughed when I wanted them to. My jokes flowed effortlessly. I felt on top of the world.

Janie seemed genuinely excited for me that night. Her eyes seemed to sparkle in the glow of the bar lights. She kissed me on the lips, hard.

“You did amazing!” she said to me, hugging me tightly.

I felt like I had my wife back.

The rest of my friends and family congratulated me, and I couldn’t have been higher.

Janie and I left the bar and went home. We fell asleep next to each other, feeling closer than we had in a long time.

I drifted off to sleep, knowing this feeling would resonate for days to come.

Or, that’s what I thought.

I forgot to turn my phone on silent that night, and when it rang at 2am, I was jolted from my deep sleep.

Groggy, I looked at the screen.

PRIVATE.

I figured it was one of my family members or friends still at the bar, trying to prank call me. I silenced the call and put my phone back on the bed stand.

A moment later, it rang again.

I looked at the screen, and this time, it was a number I didn’t recognize.

After I didn’t answer that call either, it was a moment before my phone made another noise.

A voicemail ping.

I clicked the voicemail icon and put the phone up to my ear.

My God.

“All last summer in case you don't recall, I was yours and you were mine forget it all. Is there a line that I could write, That's sad enough to make you cry? And all the lines you wrote to me were lies. Months roll past, the love that you struck dead. Did you love me only in my head? There were things you said and did to me, They seem to come so easily, The love I thought I'd won you give for free.”

Gin Blossoms “Found Out About You”

NOTE: Though this is my side of the story, including my own personal recollections and opinions, the reader should not consider this note anything other than a work of literature. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

#dating #relationships #depression #relationship advice #breakups #mental health #suicide #begin again #new #new beginnings #taylor swift #marriage #divorce #broken

0 notes

kz-i-co · 7 years

Text

First Love

» Summary: You move into a new apartment and you become enemies with your new neighbor.

» Pairing: Min Yoongi / Reader

» Genre: Smut

» Words: 4.4k

» Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

» m.list ╫ bts masterlist

“Thank you so much for helping me.” You hugged your friend.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay here alone?” She asked concerned.

“I’ll be okay Chae.”

She hugged you once again before leaving.

Now to unpack.

You finally moved out of your parents house and into your own apartment. You wanted a change. The only thing was that you were living in the more active side of town. You were more towards the city so the crime rates were a little high. Plus it was loud.

As soon as you went through your boxes, pulling out picture frames first you heard piano coming from next door. You leaned in closer to get a clearer sound. It was beautiful.

You decided to just go back to unpacking. You did feel a little uneasy being alone. This was a new feeling for you, being on your own.

One of the first things you wanted to do was set up your TV. You hooked up your cable, easy enough and then turned your TV on using the remote. As soon as you turned it on, it seemed to be working fine so you left and went to the kitchen putting away some dishes.

You turned around from the sound of plastic hitting the floor. Sammy. Your cat jumping up on the counter knocking shit off like usual.

“Get down.”

You went back to unpacking your kitchen box when you heard the cable going out with a loud static you had to cover your ears. You immediately went into panic mode trying to find the remote that you only had a few minutes ago.

The noise was unbearably loud that you couldn’t take another second. You heard a loud door bell ringing over the static.

You quickly went to the door opening it up seeing a young guy looking extremely annoyed.

“Shut it off!” He tried to shout over the noise.

“What?” You yelled back.

“Shut it off!” He made his voice louder.

“I’m trying!”

He entered your apartment uninvited and marched over to your TV. He couldn’t find the buttons to the TV so he just reached around and unplugged it.

You looked at him apologetic.

“You couldn’t do that?” He snapped.

“I’m sorry….my cat must of knocked the cable out.”

He rolled his eyes making his way towards the door. “You just move in?”

“Yeah.” You nervously tugged your hair behind your ear.

“Please keep it down.” He glared at you before he stepped out your apartment and you heard the door next door shut. Was he the one that was playing the piano?

You glanced at the time seeing it was 10:30. No wonder he was mad, who wouldn’t be mad.

You decided to just call it a night and dragged yourself to your room.

The next morning you got a call from your friends Chae and Jisoo. They wanted to meet you for lunch. As soon as you got ready they texted you the address of the place. It wasn’t too far.

“Hey girl.” Your friend Chae greeted you. “How’s the place?”

“It’s pretty nice, and cozy.” You smiled.

“Did you finish unpacking?”

You shook your head. “Too tired.” You leaned back in your chair.

“What apartment complex did you move into again?” Jisoo asked.

“The Gardens.”

“Really?” She asked. “My brother lives there.” She smiled.

“That’s cool.”

“Now I can visit you both at the same time.”

“You go there often?”

“Not really, my brothers always busy.” She pouted.

You didn't stay long, you still had a lot of packing to do. Before you went upstairs you stopped at the main office claiming your mailbox. They gave you a key and they told you to make sure it works from it being a little out of date.

You went back to the front door where the mailboxes were and attempted to open your mail box. As soon as you opened it you saw a letter already.

Welcome to The Gardens.

That’s it?

You heard noise next to you as someone else was getting their mail. The guy from last night. You tried not to cause attention to yourself. You walked back over to the office saying your key was fine and headed towards the stairs. You had to pass the mailboxes again to get to there.

You saw the guy look in your direction as you walked forward.

“Hey….I’m sorry for last night I was just trying to finish my work.” He apologized.

“No I’m sorry for making so much noise.” You smiled.

“I’m Yoongi.” He reached out his hand.

“I’m (Y/N).” You shook his hand.

“Do you need any help unpacking?” He kindly offered.

“No that’s okay I only have a few boxes left.” The shy person you were avoided any confrontation as possible. Even how cute this guy was.

“Okay well, you know where to find me.”

He went to the elevator. You were honestly afraid of elevators you avoided them at all cost. You were only on the third floor so it wasn’t a big deal.

As soon as you got to your room you continued unpacking, you had more then you led on.

“Sammy, don’t you dare touch that TV.” She looked at you then swatted at the cord making it fall out again. The irritating noise come back.

“Sammy!” You ran to your TV hitting the power button turning off the sound. You didn’t bother even looking for the remote because you knew you wouldn’t find it.

You heard a instant knock on your door. “You’re making me look bad Sammy.”

(I actually talk to my cat, not crazy cat lady way but like this, so I hope this is not weird xD lol)

You opened the door to see the familiar face of annoyance. “Need help with your TV again?”

“I’m sorry but I turned it off quicker this time.” He walked into your apartment again uninvited. He sat down in front of your cable box attempting to screw in the cable.

“Here’s your problem.” He sat up. “Your cable adapter is broken….it just spins it doesn’t tighten that’s probably why it keeps falling out.”

“Oh.”

“Your gonna need a new one.”

“Here I have a better idea.” You grabbed the duct tape and started to unwrap it.

“Really? Duct tape doesn’t fix everything.” He arched his eyebrows.

“It will do for now so Sammy won’t knock it out again.”

“Sammy?” He asked.

“My cat.” You confirmed.

He laughed. “Of course.”

His laugh was beautiful.

What were you thinking, you just met this guy and he seemed like a grouch. No offense.

He looked around your apartment seeing the mess. “It looks like you still have a lot of work to do.”

“Yeah….I’m not exactly sure where I’m putting everything yet.” You bit inside your cheek.

“Need any help?”

“That’s okay I’m gonna call it a night.”

“Okay.” He nodded and made his way towards your door. “Hopefully your cat can keep it quiet.” He smiled causing you to blush.

Why was his smile so perfect? Why was he effecting you this way?

You woke at 5am on this Saturday morning so you can start your morning shift at 6am. You worked with your parents twice a week but you also had a full time job at the local restaurant for about two years now.

It was nicer since you only had to travel a few blocks but now you were on your own so it was either walk or city bus since you didn’t have a car.

You hated working at the restaurant, it was always busy at night and you had to deal with rich snobs. There was occasional sweet people who left you nice tips but that was a rare occasion. You were trying to work your way through school. You still had two years left.

“You’re late sweetie.” Your mother scolded you.

“I’m sorry, the bus was late.”

“I don’t feel comfortable with you taking the bus.”

“It’s fine mom.”

“You should of worked on getting a car first before moving into an apartment.” You rolled your eyes. She was always like this.

“Mom I’m 21 now, I need to be on my own.”

“Okay fine then be on time.” You squinted your eyes.

Your parents owned a local pharmacy in the city.

As soon as you dragged your self off the bus you were already tired. Saturdays were your busy day at the pharmacy. When you reached your apartment entrance you decided to stop at the mail box.

You opened your box and it only had a few letters in there. You couldn’t imagine you having mail already. As soon as you pulled them out you noticed the name saying Min Yoongi.

You felt a mini anxiety attack meaning you had to bug him again.

When you got to your floor you stood outside his door taking a deep breath before you lifted your fist and softly knocked.

You heard the door handle turn not to long after. When he opened the door he seemed surprised to see you there.

He didn’t say anything he just stared waiting for you to say something.

“Um….your mail was in my mail box by accident.” You looked down handing over his mail.

“They do that a lot…they probably have dyslexia.”

You pursed your lips. “Okay well-” You started to turn around.

“Wait.” He stopped you suddenly. “Can I ask your advice on something?”

You looked at him confused. He moved to the side so you could walk through. He shut the door behind you making you jump. You didn’t know why you felt so intimidated by him.

You waited until he led you to a open space next to the living room. He had a grand piano next to a Yamaha electronic keyboard.

“I want advice from an outsiders point of view instead of my friends who hear my stuff all the time.”

He sat down at the piano and he looked at you signaling you to sit next to him. You noticed the music sheet on the stand labeled ’Butterfly’.

He brushed the keys before he pressed down playing the first note. The song was unbelievably gentle. It gave you some inner feeling you couldn’t explain. You had chills, you have never heard anything so beautiful in your entire life.

The song felt emotional.

After he was done he looked forward, like he was thinking until he turned to you. “Was it okay?”

“Okay? It was beautiful.” You sweetly smiled.

“Really?”

“Yeah….you wrote that?”

He nodded. “Amazing.”

“Thank you.”

For the past week you couldn’t get Yoongi out of your head. The way he smiled, even though that wasn’t often. But yet you couldn’t figure him out. One moment he was grouchy the next he was sweet.

You couldn’t even tell if he likes you or not. He’s either knocking on your door telling you you’re being too loud or he’s inviting you over for advice then kicks you out.

You were a dance major so once you hooked up your stereo you were always practicing, which often caused Yoongi coming over asking you to lower the music.

You were living at the apartment for a month now and you had a huge audition coming up so you had to practice as much as you could.

You had your music at a dim volume so Yoongi wouldn’t come pounding on your door again, it got to the point that every time he saw you he was constantly wearing a annoyed expression and he hasn’t invited you over since that one day two weeks ago. You came to the conclusion that he didn’t like you.

You practiced your whole routine twice through still needing to practice it.

As you started the third time you heard loud music coming next door. You stopped immensely to turn your music up a little more but that made no effect. It seemed his music just got louder. For the past ten minutes you just tried to ignore it but it had no use. You stopped your music and left your apartment in a rage.

You buzzed his doorbell and knocked as loud as you could. He opened the door arching his eyebrows. You heard a echo of his music coming from another room.

“Can you please keep it down?” You shouted.

“Sorry am I too loud?” He smirked.

“I’ve been keeping my end low lately.” You argued.

“I can still hear yours, so I just decided to turn mine up.”

“I have an important audition coming up.” You basically whined.

“Oh, that’s why your dressed like that.” He referred to your ballet sweats.

You glared at his cocky smile. “I’m being serious.”

“Well sorry I’m doing my job.”

“Is your job being rude as fuck?” Your shy side no longer an issue.

Yoongi stepped back with a surprised expression but he still had a smile on his face. You also saw that he had guest so you immediately toned down.

“Okay I’ll turn it down if you do.” He smirked again.

You rolled your eyes and stormed back to your room.

You knew you weren’t being that loud he’s trying to get back at you.

“You have a friendly neighbor.” Jhope laughed sarcastically at his friend.

“She’s cute.” Jimin said making Yoongi smile.

You wasted too much time angry at Yoongi that you had to already get ready for your night shift at the restaurant.

It was 9:30pm and you were counting down the time you could go home. You still had a dreadful four hours. You stood to the waiting area for another family or couple to be seated. You looked at the direction of a young couple entering the dinning area. Your eyes widen as you had to take a double glance towards the pair.

It wad Yoongi with a girl. She was beautiful. Of course he has a girlfriend.

Wait a minute, why did you all of a sudden feel jealous? After today you never want to see or hear from him again.

You don’t care. You don’t care.

You kept repeating.

“(Y/N)!” You heard your manger whisper shout at you. You looked at him and he pointed to the young couple.

Of course. You have to seat him.

You made your way over to them and bowed. Yoongi looked at you with wide eyes and then he smirked. He didn’t say a word that he knew you, which you were kind of grateful for. You lead them to their table and pulled out your pad.

“Hello I’m (Y/N) and I’ll be your server, can I start you with some drinks?” You asked professionally.

“I’ll take a water….Suga?” She tried to get his attention. He looked up from the menu.

“Same.” Then looked back down.

You walked away getting ready to get their drinks. Why did she call him Suga? Was it some cliche couple name? Why were you caring so much?

“Why so grumpy?” One of the cooks laughed as you set up the drinks.

“Nothing.” You smiled sarcastically.

“Are you guys ready to order?” You said as sweet as you can while putting their drinks on the table.

“Yeah.”

She ordered and then he just agreed on whatever she was having.

The rest of the night was a blur, as you waited in your service area, you occasionally caught Yoongi glance at you and he would do his annoying smirk.

You honestly couldn’t get him through your head. Was he purposely trying to annoy you or make you uncomfortable because it was working.

Cleaning up their table you collected the envelope where they placed the tip and put it in your pocket with the rest of your tips.

Later that night you dragged yourself up the stairs through your apartment complex. You dreaded this job, but it was too good of a paycheck to pass up.

As soon as you entered your room, the shoes came flying off. You heard faint piano keys from the room over. What was he still doing up? It was 1:30am.

It reminded you to check your tips. You opened the envelope from.his table. You pulled out the amount and looked at it confused. This must be a mistake. $300. You never got that high of a tip before.

You knew he was up so you made your way next door knocking. You heard the piano stop suddenly and not to long the door opened.

He had a habit of not greeting you, he would just stare and wait for you to speak first.

“I think you accidentally gave me too much money.” You waved the envelope.

“No.” He shook his head.

“Yoongi this is $300….even rich people with ten houses don’t give me that much.”

“That’s how much we gave you.” It looked like he was almost going to shut his door in your face

“Well…its too much….I appreciate it but I’m not struggling or anything.”

“It’s fine, my friend has a lot of money….you deserve it.”

Before you could speak he did shut the door in your face.

You deserve it? You went back to your apartment confused. How would he know? Yoongi was a puzzle that you were trying to figure out. Even though your close to finishing it there’s always one piece that’s missing.

It was the end of next week and your last day to practice your dance routine and of course Yoongi had his music interrupting your music again.

You marched back over pounding on his door. His music never stopped so he probably didn’t hear you. You jiggled the handle and saw that it was opened. You didn’t see him once you entered. You just followed the music until you stood in front of another door. You turned the knob and saw a studio type den.

He was sat down in a chair in front of a panel filled with hundreds of switches and buttons.

“Yoongi!” You shouted over the music. He slightly jumped and turned the music down to a dim.

“What do you want?”

“Don’t you own a pair of headphones?” You snapped.

“Yes.” He smirked.

“Why are you doing This? To get back at me? I’m sorry for the past few weeks okay…..so can you please stop punishing me I’ve been playing my music low every night for you.” You rambled.

“Why should I, I pay to live here and I’ve gotten no complaints till you lived here.”

“Why are you such a jerk?” You yelled.

“If I’m such a jerk then move.” He stood up.

“You know what, good idea.” You turned around and headed towards his door.

You were close to his opened door but before you could leave he beat you to it and closed the door with his presence behind you.

“I’m sorry okay.” You turned around and walked backwards until your back hit the door from how close he was. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Why do you care….you hate me.” Your tone of voice was still agrivated.

You saw him lean in closer. “I dont hate you.” He glanced at your lips before looking into your eyes again. You saw him lean in even closer that you could feel his breath on your lips.

You were tempted to fill in the rest of the space but your mind flashed back to the restaurant. He had a girlfriend. You weren’t gonna be some homewrecker to some innocent girl who has a cheating boyfriend.

“Can you let me leave please.” You said softly.

“Do you hate me?” He asked sadly.

You didn’t answer you just closed your eyes to avoid his gaze. “Please Yoongi.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” He backed up and opened the door. After you left you couldn’t help but feel guilty. The look on his face was haunting.

The only positive thing this week was that you passed your audition with flying colors but the rest of the week was quiet. You didn’t have to practice or neither did you hear Yoongis music through your wall. You were happy but yet you felt lonely.

But you tried to not feel guilty, he wanted you to suffer and you did.

It was Monday so you had the night off. Thank God.

You were about to cook yourself some dinner when you heard a loud irritating noise. You looked over to where it was coming from and you saw your cat playing with the cable again.

“Sammy!” You ran over and chased her away from the TV. You quickly hit the switch making it quiet again. You expected a knock on your door immediately but nothing. You went back to the kitchen to go back to cooking. You were actually quite sad honestly, you wanted him to go to your door like before.

After you finished your meal, you went back over to the TV and plugged the cable on. When you turned it on it was still a loud irritating static.

What the hell? The cable was in. You turned your TV off again to make it quiet. You pulled out the cable to look at it. It was broken, actually more chewed off.

“Sammy.” You mentally argued. She must of just did that. You put your shoes on getting ready to leave. You needed to buy a new cable, you couldn’t just sit in silence for the rest of the night.

As soon as you opened your door, Yoongi was waiting on the outside. “Having trouble with your TV?” He smirked.

“My cat chewed it up.” You looked down.

“You need a spare?” He asked.

“You have a spare?” He nodded.

“I was gonna give it to you before but then you pulled out the duct tape.” He smiled making you blush.

He tilted his head for you to follow him. And you did.

When you entered his apartment you closed the door behind you. He went to the end of the hall into a walk in closet. He leaned down and grabbed a fresh new cable that was still in its package.

He stood back up and handed it to you. He looked at you with hungry eyes. You felt butterflies in your stomach.

“Thank you.” You softly spoke as he handed it to you.

“Do you need help hooking that up?”

“Um…I-” He caused you to stumble over your words as he leaned in closer to you, resting his hand on the wall next to you.

He smiled as you attempted to speak. You closed your eyes. The last thing you saw was him leaning in closer but this time you were frozen. You finally felt his lips brush yours. It felt nice. You didn’t push him away, your lips actually responded against his. He gently pulled your hips to his feeling every inch of him closer to you.

Before you could go in any deeper. You softly pushed him away. “What about your girlfriend?”

He laughed. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

You looked at him confused. “But what about at the restaurant-”

“That’s not my girlfriend…we work together and she invited me out for dinner.”

Now that you thought about it, that night you never seen them being affectionate. It was wrong for you to assume.

“So…” He waited for you to do something. “Can I kiss you again?”

You blushed as he leaned in forward. You bit your lip nervously while you nodded in approval. He once again broke the free space bringing his lips towards your.

This time he didn’t hold back, he kissed you desperately. Like he wanted to for a while. He lifted you up and carried to the next room over which was his studio. He sat you on his desk and immediately started sucking on your neck. You wrapped your legs around his waist to feel him closer.

You felt his hand make it’s way up your shirt playing with the hooks of your bra. You toyed with the waist band of his sweats making his voice moan vibrating your skin. You felt chills run down your spin.

He left your neck and went back to your lips. He moved his tongue inside to explore every inch. The butterflies went off when You felt his member poking you through his thigh. You had the urge to reach through his pants grabbing him but your shy side didn’t want to make anything uncomfortable.

He pulled away noticing how you stiffened up. “You can tell me to stop, I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I feel that way about you.” He arched his eyebrows confused. “I want to um-” You nervously stumbled.

“Say no more.” He leaned in kissing you again tugging on your sweat pants. He pulled them off in a swift motion dragging down your underwear also. He pulled away slightly to admire your body. You smiled as he started tugging on his own pants.

But before you could get a look at him he kissed you again. You felt his member brush your folds before pushing in. You arched in pain as you tried to adjust to his size.

He didn’t give you much time as he started thrusting into you. The pain was visible for the first few pumps until it turned into pleasure. You tilted your head back enjoying the pleasure.

You heard him giggle watching you skirm. You grabbed onto the edge of the desk as you felt your body reach its climax. Your moans were pretty much uncontrollable at this point. The feeling hit you immensely, you felt weak but he kept his quick pace working up his own release.

He continued to rock against you until you heard a ring enter the quiet room. You giggled as he rolled his eyes but he didn’t stop. You leaned in and kissed him passionately while he hit his release.

You both took a second to catch your breath. “Your phone’s still ringing.” You whispered.

He leaned back and made a cute groaning sound. He pulled his pants up while going to his phone.

“Yeah?” He answered annoyed.

“What took you so long to answer the phone?” You heard the other end. You slid off the desk and pull your pants back up.

“I was busy.”

“I’m outside your door.” You heard the female.

You watched as his eyes widen. Then turn to annoyance. “Okay.”

Then he hung up. “What’s wrong?” You asked.

“My sister’s here.” He walked out of the room while you followed him.

“You want me to go?” You asked before he made it to the door.

“No…please stay.” He begged.

You went over to the couch and sat down. He opened the door for his sister greeting her in the process.

You glanced back and you never felt more anxiety.

“(Y/N)?”

“Jisoo?” There stood your best friend, who happened to be sister’s with the guy you just slept with.

949 notes · View notes

arnoldcam · 5 years

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It’s Just a Dog

It’s Just a Dog....

That’s what some people will tell you. Others will say “They don’t really have feelings and thoughts… that’s just you anthropomorphizing them” Maybe. I’ll try and make a different case.

When I decided to get a puppy, there were 12 puppies in the pen. Six were asleep, piled on each other and snoring as puppies do. The others were roughhousing, barking at nothing, or running in circles. One puppy, in the corner, walked over to where I was standing sat down, looked up at me and started wagging his tail. “This one,” I said.

He was six or seven weeks at the time and you can’t take them home until they’re eight weeks. So I waited and eventually came back with a crate, a towel, and a stuffed duck. He howled in the back seat out of fear and loneliness and sadness at leaving his mom. I told myself he’d never have reason to howl again and he never did.

As a puppy he was not bigger than a kitchen tile and had that puppy flexibility. He was always happy as long as I was near. In fact, I’d set him in the back of the car when I’d take him driving. And given enough time, he’d squish in between the seat and the driver side door and wiggle his way to the front so he could be with me. I’d have to pull over and fish him out from between my feet, the accelerator and the brake.

He lived with me in my condo in Pasadena where we shared a two story condo for nine years. He got a doggie door so he could go outside when he wanted. Prior to that he’d sit at the sliding glass door and stare at the handle. After a while he’d turn his head and look at me as if to say “Are you not seeing this?” and out he’d go.

As puppies, Labradors will chew anything and everything until they’re 18 months old at which point they just stop. In that 18 months he munched on numerous shoes, stripped the front of my couch (my nephew watched all this, powerless and in horror, over a webcam), peeled all the bark off the tree, decimated a cable remote, and chewed through a live electrical cable for the jacuzzi. Luckily he (and I) survived all this.

Later as he grew to over 70 pounds, he still thought he was small. He’d climb onto the laps of unsuspecting friends to nap.

He continued wanting to be near. He’d sleep on the couch with his head on the arm rest, staring at the door until I came home from work. As night fell and got closer to me coming home, he’d lay closer to the door. I learned to open the door slowly so I didn’t bonk him on the head or, more often, to move the 85 pound doorstop behind it.

If you’re still sticking with me here, I’ll ask... do you remember the stuffed duck? He had it all this time. It was slightly worse for wear from being dragged around and gnawed on and being washed but it was still hanging in there. One day while working, I heard a rip. I turned and the dog was as surprised as I was that the duck had finally come open. Instincts kicked in and he methodically pulled all the stuffing out like a wolf eviscerating prey. Then he found the squeaker. Luckily he recognized it was not for eating. But it WAS for squeaking. Which went on for way longer than I had patience for and ended with the familiar drop what’s in your mouth struggle all dog owners know. After that he had his share of expensive toys, activity toys, and puzzle feeder toys… nothing interested him like a good stuffed animal. So that’s what we did. After a while I never spent more than $2 on a toy because it was only a matter of time before the stuffing went flying and the squeaker was found.

Then there’s the blue bone. THAT’s the favorite. It’s a treat toy that get stuffed with a special flavored chewy treat. It’d go missing sometimes because he’d take it outside and I wouldn’t think to look there and he’d be sad while looking for it for days in the house. It always got found. Eventually. I could be watching a really intense episode of one of my favorite shows and I’d see his eyes light up and he’d leave the room. Minutes later he’d come back with the blue bone and deposit in my lap. Not now, I’d say. And he’d pant, make the dog version of a smile and wag his otter tail. Pause. Here you go.

I moved to my house three years ago. I liked to joke that I bought a house because the dog was having a rough time going upstairs. Although that wasn’t true, it did cross my mind and oh what a difference for him. For nine years, outside meant a 6x12 bricked patio. Here his trips outside would include walking the perimeter, looking at the sky, and smelling his beloved jasmine. Every trip outside started with a smell at the planter.

But no matter what you do, dogs get old. A walk on the hard wood floor becomes a hazard. Poor guy would stop at the edge of the carpet and shift back and forth on his feet, forehead furrowed in concentration as he stared at the floor. I would move the carpet for him and he’d happily walk over but if I’m not around, he’d run the gap after he steeled his nerves. Sometimes his back leg would slip while running. And his back end would be sideways while his front end would be paddling to get to the carpet. Quite the difference from the bouncy, prancing, running, sprinting vision I have of him in my head. Later the hips would fail him as he tried to hold his position while going to the bathroom, so he tried to go less times. This made him not want to eat.

Even still, after work, I’d stay close so he wouldn’t have to walk far. At times like these he’d move over and put his jaw on my arm and look into my eyes. After a minute or two he’d reposition his head with a little more intention… like “are you not getting what I’m saying”. But I can’t fix old age, puppy.

We had his physical scheduled, so I thought this would be the time to assess what to do with him next. So I walked him to the car, picked him up, sat him on the seat, and made our way to vet. I pulled him out of the car and set him on the asphalt. Put on his collar and leash. Walked him inside. We made it halfway. Then I could see the back left hip and foot struggling. Typical for him, he struggled to keep going because he thought that’s I wanted. We made it to three quarters of the way in and he collapsed and lay down. “Are you ok?” “pant pant face-lick”.

I checked him in and got a call from the vet an hour later. She wanted to discuss options. The rest is a blur… me crying all the way to work…. Getting what I needed to done… crying all the way home… meeting the vet at 5.

They allowed me to come early to spend some time with him. I knew he hadn’t eaten all day so I brought a bowl of chopped chicken breast. I gave him bite after bite, each returned with happy pants and dog smiles. Sometimes interrupted with deep pants and dog coughs.

A bunch of stuff happened that’s just for me and him.

And now it’s just me here, all his toys, and his planter of jasmine.

But it’s just a dog. Right?

(I hope the answer you got from reading all this is no… he was so much more)

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