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#the entire time we were joking about Mr. B surprising us with some even more violent movie like john wick lmaoo
mrdarcygenderenvy · 2 months
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Recent Austen adaptations yelling
Ok I DID make this blog to review historical-set Pride & Prejudice adaptations (with an exception made for iconic B&P). But for everyone who was DEFINITELY WONDERING, yes I have also been storing away a lot of opinions about other recent Austen adaptations that I Must Tell Someone.
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Fire island (2022)
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A modern gay party cheesy rom-com P&P that genuinely made me laugh. Having seen some other (whiter) cheesy gay romcoms that were extreeeemely PG & playing it safe, I was pleasantly surprised.
Also Bowen Yang and his story just came across really earnest in a way I was into - would watch this man cry again, 10/10.
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Personally as an extremely disabled british nerd (now tragically unable to travel and/or go to the club...) this gay scene is a long way from my queer scene. But I still had emotions, you know?
Kinda wanted more of the Mary analogue and generally just normal looking people (almost everyone is so ripped) but I appreciate that's how beautiful smooth people often look in mainstream american films, we can't have everything.
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DARCY WATCH: I do not want to dress like this adaptation's chinos Mr Darcy. But Conrad Ricamora was generally great and very hot and awkward and understood the assignment. Good ice cream throw.
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Emma (2020)
I know I know, it's pretty... but I don't think that's enough!!!!!
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Lovely production, beautiful costumes, a candy wes-anderson cinematography that really suits the story, and it's fun to notice references to actual outfits and prints from the time but lads. LADS. UNPOPULAR OPINION TIME: Where is the chemistry???
You can’t make Mr Knightley a nice sweet boy (so funny to have cast a posh folksy singing man) and leave the plot the same and expect it to work!! Also I was personally pissed off that a lot of the promo/ ads for this made it look like ~forbidden love~ when it's the 2 richest white people in town getting together?? ? There's actually not even a class difference in this one, guys.
Basically this romance was nothing to me!!! I felt nothing!!!!!!!! WHERE'S THE DEPTH
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I did like the bit where he lies down though. Relatable.
Also why are you drawing so much attention to the servants when you don’t seem to have anything to say about class...? 'Wow look how many servants they had! Anyway, they don't get any speaking lines'... it's 2020 guys!!! like what are we saying here. 'isn't it cool to think about how people were rich'??
kind of the point of Emma (character) is she's pretty superficial, but the story does not, in fact, have to be
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Persuasion (2022)
Weeping softly into a pillow........ did you know this version meant a version with Sarah Snook and Joel Fry got cancelled?? we could have had it all
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(standing on a table yelling) THE MODERNISATION WAS NOT THE PROBLEM WITH THIS FILM!!!
Honestly I actively liked all the entire secondary cast in this. Louisa and Mary were extremely charming fun takes to watch. ('I'm an empath' IS right for the character if you're doing modern jokes!!!) And nobody can deny this was a correct and powerful use of Richard E Grant.
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Henry Golding was naturally great. Apparently he got offered the lead and took the villain instead, which DOES mean the villain is super charming and fun to watch which is... hard to match and.... kind of shows up.... the main man.
It's been said before but the main two were WOEFUL imo. I have no beef with the actors I just question the DIRECTION and whether anyone making this knew (or cared) why people... enjoy things.
Book Anne is the quietest gentlest loser and I LOVE HER and so does basically every Austen nerd. Making her a quirky wine-bath girl who's honestly just cruel sometimes fully stops the main romance chemistry and plot from working.
And it means the main boy is still like 'god I'm so horny for how KIND AND CAPABLE YOU ARE' which is just 100% no longer true. You can't transplant a personality in a romance but leave the plot the exact same and expect it to work. The chemistry IS the plot in a romance..........
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you can't act morally superior to your siblings and still rate people out of ten.... also so funny to me that everyone else gets period outfits and hair whereas this protagonist looks like she just glanced at a picture of any time in the past and grabbed a couple shirts from primark. it doen't even look good or build character!!!!!
Anyway, not to be an elderly man like 'ohhh why does nobody care about character these days' but the reason something like Clueless works is because it has the heart of the story right, instead of just copying the surface level stuff.
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keep-ur-head-low · 3 years
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My eighth grade English teacher will always be the coolest fucking man to ever live and I have a story to prove it. To celebrate the end of the first semester, the teachers took the entire eighth grade on a school trip to the local movie theater to watch the tamest PG movie showing at the time: Ralph Breaks The Internet. Unsurprisingly, no eighth grader had any interest in watching the sequel to Wreck It Ralph, but pretty much everyone went anyway because why the heck not?
So we all walk to the theater and everyone’s just chilling and talking about stuff completely unrelated to the film, just excited to be spending school hours not listening to a lecture. The theater dims and everyone quiets down with a few mumbles here and there. The screen lights up and here comes the logos and-- wait a minute, Sony?! Where’s the Disney logo? And why’s everything all glitchy?! The air is thick with confusion, and what comes on instead of Ralph Breaks The Internet? Fucking Spider-Man: Into The Spiderverse, hours before its first showing in our area. Turns out our old, mild mannered English teacher wanted to surprise us and checked in with all the teachers on the way there to ask if he could convince the theater to swap out Ralph for Spiderverse. The theater thankfully said yes, resulting in probably the greatest moment of shared confusion and excitement in my life. Shoutout to Mr B for gifting me such a fond experience with one of the best films of all time.
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baepsaesbae · 3 years
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Spring Will Come Again
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Pairing— Jeon Jungkook x reader    
Genre— Photographer!Jungkook x Baker!reader, SMUT +18, fluff, angst, Virgin!Jungkook, Sub!Jungkook, Switch!Jungkook
Warnings— Finger sucking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, squirting (?), slight choking, there are a lot of emotions, Jungkook is literally so sweet gosh I just wanna hold him tight, this fic is kind of a rollercoaster of emotions bc I myself do b going thru it
Word Count—  ~10.9k  
Summary— Springtime generally brings new beginnings, but being stuck in a small town all your life means nothing ever changes. Finally, something, or rather, someone, stumbles into your life. Can this shy boy manage to change your life forever?
A/N— This beautiful banner was made by @dee-ehn​! Please let me know what you think of this fic! Hope you guys enjoy~
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It all started on a beautiful spring day. Something had convinced you to go on an unprecedented early morning walk for some reason. 
The morning air was cold but crisp. You were bundled up in your favorite sweater, and the scarf that your grandmother knitted for you was wrapped snugly around your neck. Normally you would be immersed in your headphones, but since today was already unusual you decided to forgo the music. 
You walked along the banks of the stream that flowed next to your neighborhood. This particular stream held nothing but fond memories. You grew up here with all the other kids. During the summer breaks, you’d play out here from morning to nightfall. This was the place where you saw your first fireflies, and where you won your first fist fight. 
You stopped to sit on the grassy hill that ran alongside the banks, relishing in nostalgia as you took in a breath of fresh air. Everything is so different now. Everyone moved away to pursue their careers or to go to a big university. You were the only one left. Your parents urged you to go to college, but you refused. Who else would help run the bakery? 
As much as you hated to see it, your parents were growing old. Managing the family bakery was getting harder on them. You were such a huge help to them since you basically managed all of the front-of-house work. They worked diligently in the kitchen every day to create the best baked goods in town. 
You had always dreamt of leaving this small town. You’ve fantasized about attending a big university in the middle of a bustling city since you were a little kid. Unfortunately, that can’t happen now. You can’t leave your parents or the bakery behind. You held no resentment though, you loved it. Being an only child was a bit lonely at times, but your parents made you feel loved no matter what.
You laid on the grassy hill, watching the clouds roll by. Maybe life was better this way. It was simple, and you always knew what to expect. Day in and day out, the routine was always the same. 
Everything changed on that day. That was the fateful day that you ran into him. Or rather, he ran into you. 
“Good morning, ____! Where were you this morning? Why weren’t you answering your phone?” your concerned mother asked when you returned home.
“Morning mom. I went on a walk and forgot my phone I guess. Sorry about that. I ended up laying on the hill by the stream,” you replied as you sat at the breakfast table.
Living with bakers was probably one of the biggest blessings in your life. Every meal smelled delectable and you had access to all the fresh goodies you could desire. 
“Wow, you were awake before we were? What a surprise. Here, tell me what you think of this loaf,” your dad set it in front of you.
You tossed a piece of bread into your mouth. The taste was savory to say the least. It was your father’s signature banana bread loaf, only this time with a small twist. 
“Why’d you take out the walnuts? It’s still delicious though,” you said, devouring another piece.
“Well so many customers complain about having nut allergies now. I thought we could sell more if we take them out! You think we can sell this?” he asked eagerly.
“I think this will be our newest best seller!” you happily replied, “I’m gonna go open up the shop. See you guys soon,” you kissed them each on the cheek before taking your leave.
The bakery was down the street from your house, so the commute was only about 5 minutes even if you walked slowly. You brought your phone with you this time, so you were jamming out to your music, oblivious to the outside world. You were so out of it, that you didn’t have time to react to the person quickly rounding the corner.
One moment you were walking to work, the next you were knocked onto the cold hard ground. Your assailant fell on top of you, and you soon locked eyes with him. It was as if time stood still for a moment. He was the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. His eyes were wide with concern, and for a moment, you swore you saw stars twinkling within them. 
It took a second to register that this stranger was on top of you, in a compromising position no less. You’ve never been this close to a boy since...well it has been a while. Your legs were intertwined and his nose was only inches from yours. 
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you until the last second,” the boy apologized as he scrambled to get off of you. 
As he helped you up, you reassured him that you were fine. You laughed off the incident and took the boy by surprise. You had the most angelic laugh he’d ever heard. He stood awkwardly gazing at you, before you asked him if he was okay. 
“I-I’m fine! I’m glad you’re okay. I apologize again for being so careless,” he bowed.
“I’m also at fault! I wasn’t paying attention either. So shame on both of us,” you smiled to show him you were joking, “Enjoy the rest of your day, don’t run into anyone else!”
And with that, you parted ways. You forgot about the stranger as the morning rush piled into the bakery. 
Despite being located in a small town, your parent’s were nationally renowned bakers. The bakery was always busy. That was part of why you loved it so much, you were never bored. The regular customers were your favorite. Most of the townsfolk had been coming to the bakery since you were little. 
“Is this banana bread new?” Mrs. Park, the local florist, asked.
“Technically, yes. It’s the exact same recipe but without the walnuts,” you replied.
“Perfect! I’m not too fond of walnuts but I adore your parents’ banana bread,” Mrs. Park beamed, handing you a loaf along with other goods she picked up.
“How’s Jimin?” you asked as you rang her up.
“Oh he’s doing well! He loves it out there in the big city. At first, I was terrified of letting him go. He’s just always been so passionate about dancing, I finally had to cave in. He recently auditioned to be part of some fancy dance crew, and he got in! Can you believe it?” Mrs. Park began to dote on her son.
“That’s amazing! I’m happy for him,” you smiled.
“You know, ____, Jimin is still single. You two would be perfect together--”
“Long distance relationships are hard, Mrs. Park,” your mother interrupted her, swooping in to save the day. Thank god. You wouldn’t have known how to react. 
“She could always move out to the city to be with him!” Mrs. Park retorted, not picking up on the awkward situation she created. 
“I could never leave the bakery,” you responded quickly.
“Ah, yes that’s right. You have such a good daughter, Mrs. _____. Jimin never took any interest in taking over the family business. I’m jealous of you!” Mrs. Park said to your mom.
After what seemed like an eternity, Mrs. Park finally left. You were fond of her, but she never knew when to stop talking. Jimin was a good friend of yours growing up. You never wanted to admit that you had a huge crush on him. You figured it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, since he was so fixated on moving out. 
The morning rush had died down. You took this opportunity to restock and tidy things up before the afternoon rush. The store bell rang, indicating the arrival of another customer.
“Welcome in! I’ll be with you shortly,” you called out from behind the counter. 
“No worries, thanks!” the customer yelled back.
Once finished, you popped up with a bright smile on your face. Your parents taught you to always greet the customers with a smile as soon as they walk in. 
However, the customer wasn’t facing your direction. He was looking at the baked goods that aligned the opposite wall. You patiently waited for him to make his selection. He kept walking back and forth, eyeing all of the baked items. You left your station behind the counter and approached him.
“Can I help you with anything, sir?” you piped up behind him.
The man jumped back, startled.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” you apologized.
“It’s okay! I didn’t hear you at all. You must be some sort of ninja-- Oh it’s you!” the boy turned around to face you.
It was the gorgeous boy who ran into you earlier. 
“Hello again! I guess it was my turn to frighten you,” you joked.
“That’s fair,” he nodded, “What’s the best thing here?”
“Mmm that’s hard for me to say, considering that I love them all. What kind of tastes and textures do you like?” your customer service persona kicked in. 
“I like sweet things I guess? I like bananas too…” he trailed off.
“We don’t have any bananas in fruit form, but we do have killer banana bread,” you beamed.
“That sounds good, but I don’t really like nuts so--”
“There are no nuts in our new recipe! You must be lucky, this is the first day that we’ve started selling them. Want me to ring you up a loaf?” you interrupted him.
“Oh no nuts? Okay, I’ll try it,” he agreed quietly.
“Would you still like to get something sweet as well?” 
“Yeah, if that’s okay,” he nodded timidly.
“Of course it’s okay! My personal favorite is our milk pudding bun. The pudding in the middle is pretty creamy plus the bread is unbelievably soft! If that’s not for you, then we have a classic chocolate bun filled with, surprise surprise, chocolate. We also have…” you led the boy around the entire bakery.
You were too focused on recommending various breads to notice him stealing glances at you that lingered longer than normal. He patiently let you talk his ear off about the goodies.
“I’ll go with the milk pudding bun,” he smiled shyly.
“That was the first one! You should’ve stopped me from rambling,” you huffed.
“I wanted to know my options. Plus you seemed pretty happy,” he added softly.
“Alright, let’s go check you out then,” you headed to the counter, “I haven’t seen you before. What brings you to our little town?” you attempted to make conversation.
“Mmm, to get away, I guess,” the boy said after a pause.
“Are you in some sort of trouble?” you leaned over the counter to whisper.
“Kind of,” he whispered back.
“Stay right here, I can call the police,” you frantically murmured as you whipped out your phone.
“No no! Not like that,” he couldn’t contain his laughter, “I’m a fine arts student. My main focus is photography, but lately I haven’t been able to capture anything worth printing,” he explained.
“Ohhh,” you said, feeling dumb, “Then why come to a town in the middle of nowhere? You won’t find much here.”
“To an untrained eye, maybe so. But to a professional, beauty can be found anywhere,” he said proudly.
“Then why can’t you find anything back home? And aren’t you still a student?” you questioned.
“You know, I was really hoping that you’d let me have that,” the boy deflated.
“Aw, I’m sorry! If you ever want to take photos of the beauty that is bread, you’re always welcome here,” you smiled.
“I might take you up on that offer,” he said as he grabbed the purchased goods, “What’s your name by the way?”
“____. Yours?”
“Jeon Jungkook.”
“I’ll see you around, Mr. Jeon Jungkook. Oh! And if you’d like a tour of the town, I’d be more than happy to show you around,” you suggested.
“That would be nice,” Jungkook pondered, “Where can I find you?”
“I’m here every day. I get off at 3pm,” you answered.
“Cool. I’ll drop by tomorrow, if that’s okay?”
“Sure! See you then!” you waved goodbye.
“Who was that?” your mother asked when the boy left.
“Some photography student that said he wanted to get away for some inspiration. I offered to give him a tour tomorrow after work,” you explained. 
“Do you want me to come with you?” your dad offered.
“I’ll be fine on my own, thanks,” you quickly turned him down.
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You spent the next morning frantically flip flopping between outfits. Should you go with a pretty top paired with a skirt? Or perhaps keep it casual with a t-shirt and jeans? Or should you go with a simple dress? You know you’re supposed to be a tour guide, but you still wanted to look somewhat presentable. You settled for the dress. It gave off a “cute but not trying too hard” type of vibe. 
Time seemed to slowly drag on as you waited for Jungkook to return. You had already mapped out your route, making sure it was efficient (not like there’s much to see anyway). You wanted to surprise him with a picnic at the end of the tour. Hopefully it could help show off the natural beauty of the forests and meadows that surrounded the town. As the clock approached 3pm, you began to wonder if springing a surprise picnic on a stranger was odd. Oh god, what if it was? You hadn’t had much interaction with people your age once all your friends went off to live their own lives. Panic was starting to set in when the front bell chimed.
“Hey! I’m a little early, but I can wait around until you’re finished,” Jungkook greeted you. You noticed a fancy looking camera dangling around his chest.
“It’s all good! Business has been slow today, I’ve been bored,” you admitted.
“Oh I see--” Jungkook was cut off.
“Hi! I’m ____’s mom. Did you like the bread you bought yesterday?” your mom materialized out of nowhere with a pan of fresh bread in her hands.
“It was delicious! Better than anything I could get in the city,” Jungkook complimented.
“Why did you batch a new batch? No one has come in after 1pm,” you aggressively whispered to your mom. 
“I got bored,” she pouted, “Here, have one! On the house, think of it as a welcoming present to our town,” she motioned for Jungkook to take a fresh loaf off the tray.
Jungkook’s face lit up at the offer as he thanked her for the snack. His smile lingered as he took a bite, savoring the taste.
“You must have some sort of good luck charm; you’re getting even more free food later,” you chuckled as you plopped a wicker basket onto the checkout counter.
“Sweet,” he beamed. 
You let out a small sigh of relief. It didn’t seem like Jungkook was creeped out by the thought of eating with a stranger. With the basket in hand, you led Jungkook across the town. There truly wasn’t much to see. Your family’s bakery was in line with the rest of the town’s shops. You passed by the florist, the cafe, the grocery store, and the post office within the first 3 minutes just by walking down the street. You added in little personal stories with each business that you pointed out. 
Jungkook paused by the flower shop, in awe of all the beautiful arrangements. His eyes scanned the outside displays, as if he was looking for something. 
“Need something specific, dear?” Mrs. Park asked her potential customer. 
“Do you have Tiger flowers?” he inquired.
“Tiger… No, but I can probably order some for you,” she offered.
“Ah, that’s alright. I’m sorry to bother you,” Jungkook apologized before rejoining you.
“Did you wanna take a picture of that specific flower?” you asked him as you strolled along the sidewalk.
“Yeah, it’s my birth flower,” he shyly nodded.
“Oh nice! I don’t know what my birth flower is, but yours sounds pretty. Ah, here is the town square. Over there is the courthouse/government building/boring stuff happens in there probably,” you said as you pointed out the building.
“This is cool,” Jungkook examined a decrepit well that stood in front of the courthouse.
“I guess. I always thought it would be better if they replaced it with a big pretty fountain or something,” you mentioned as you looked down into the dark abyss of the well.
Jungkook said nothing as he began taking pictures of the well from various angles. You watched him frown at each picture he took before he tried to take another. 
“Maybe you could take a picture looking into the well? I mean, you’d probably have to stand on it to get a full shot and your feet will be in it but…” you suggested before realizing that you knew nothing about photography.
Jungkook immediately hopped onto the well, disregarding the loose pebbles that crumbled away under his weight. Pointing the camera directly down into the well, he snapped a couple of pictures. He didn’t bother hopping off of the well before scrolling through the pictures he just took. You caught yourself staring at him, admiring his features. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his lips were pursed, and the wind was blowing his bangs over his forehead ever so slightly. He really was a handsome boy, though he seemed to be completely unaware of it. 
“How’d it turn out?” you asked as he climbed down.
“Not bad actually. Better than the angles I took at first,” Jungkook smiled with approval, “I’ll show you after I touch them up.”
“I’m excited to see! Also, this basically concludes the tour because everything else is residential stuff. Unless you wanna take pictures of random people’s homes,” you joked.
“I’m good. Is this where we’re eating? I kinda skipped lunch,” Jungkook looked at the wicker basket in your hand.
“Nope! I’m gonna take you somewhere special. Are you okay with a bit of light hiking?”
“Sounds fun,” Jungkook grinned. 
“Perfect! Now it’s your turn to lug this thing around,” you said as you handed him the deceptively heavy basket. 
You took him to the outskirts of town, where nature was left untouched.
“Is this where all the cool kids have their picnics?” Jungkook asked as you led him down an old trail.
“All the cool kids left this town a while ago, so I can’t speak on their behalf. However, this is where I like to have my picnics so take that in whatever way you please,” you responded.
It was a sunny day on the verge of being too hot, but the densely wooded forest provided enough shade to make it comfortable. Your parents used to take you on walks in these woods when you (and they) were younger. Of course, now the hilly paths and loose soil would only wreak havoc on your parents’ old knees. You’ve grown accustomed to exploring on your own. Bringing Jungkook along was a pleasant change. 
“You okay with eating here?” you suddenly stopped, pointing over to a field just off the trail.
“I’ll eat anywhere, I’m starving,” Jungkook quickly nodded. 
“I’m fully aware of that; I could barely hear the birds chirping over the sounds of your stomach growling,” you teased.
An old tree that was large enough to cover up the entire picnic blanket with shade proved to be the ideal spot. Jungkook set down the wicker basket that you assigned to him earlier, eagerly waiting for you to finally open it.
“On the menu today we have fruits as an appetizer, ham and cheese sandwiches in homemade croissants as the main course, and last but not least, chocolate buns for dessert,” you proudly showcased each item.
“I never knew bread could taste so heavenly until I went to your bakery. I’m happy I walked in,” Jungkook praised as he wolfed down his sandwich.
“It’s not my bakery, it’s my parents’ bakery,” you corrected him as you ate the fruit.
“Don’t you work in it nearly every day? I don’t see how it’s not your bakery too,” Jungkook insisted.
“I’m not the one running the business,” you argued.
“You seem to put in the same amount as work as them. Instead of baking, you’re handling all of the customers. That’s gotta count for something, right?” Jungkook persisted. 
“Fine, I guess you could say it’s a family bakery. Happy?” you huffed, clearly annoyed.
  “Hey, I wasn’t trying to make you angry. I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Jungkook apologized, putting his sandwich down, “I wanted to let you know how much I love your family’s bread, that’s all.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just…” your trailed off as you gazed at the blue sky.
“I don’t want to pry, but I’m happy to sit here and listen,” Jungkook offered. 
“I don’t want to scare you away by dumping my personal issues on you,” you tried to lighten the mood.
“I don’t think you could do that, ____,” Jungkook assured you. 
Your eyes widened ever so slightly since he caught you off guard with his sincerity, but soon you gave him a soft smile.
“Fine, since we’re just sitting here anyway,” you caved as you picked up your sandwich, “I wish I wasn’t here anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents and I love the bakery. I just wish I got to go to a big city somewhere and attend a real university. I don’t know what I’d study, I just know that I thought my life would be different by now,” you turn away from him to hide your watery eyes.
“It’s not all that great,” Jungkook responded after a short pause, “I came from a small town too. The only difference was that it was along a beach, not by a forest. Wait, the location doesn’t matter,” he quietly scolded himself, “What I’m trying to say is that I did get away from my hometown. I was so excited to finally be a city kid. I didn’t realize how overwhelming it would be. Now look at me. I’m a senior in college with no direction in life. That’s what I get for choosing a career with no job security,” he chuckled as he looked down at the camera around his neck. 
“But are you doing what you love?” you quietly asked.
“I think so. Are you?” he asked back.
“I think so,” you sighed, finally turning to look at him. 
“I could always take you back to the city with me,” Jungkook flashed you a big bunny smile.
“Don’t joke with me like that. I hate getting my hopes up,” you playfully punch him in the arm. 
“I’m not joking!” he yelped in surprise.
The conversation turned into a more cheerful one. You both spoke about your dreams, both childhood and present day. It was fun talking with Jungkook as you both watched the clouds roll by without a care in the world. 
“Maybe you could get some pretty shots of some wildlife while we’re out here,” you recommended when the conversation came to a pause.
“Do you want to model for me?” Jungkook asked.
“Huh?” his sudden proposal surprised you.
“It’s completely okay if you don’t want to! Actually, just forget I said anything,” Jungkook looked down at the camera in his hands in a futile attempt to hide his flushed cheeks. 
“Just tell me how to pose,” you smiled, already getting up.
“Uh, just act natural,” he said awkwardly as you leaned against the thick tree trunk.
At first, you made some silly poses that made Jungkook laugh. To be honest, you only did that because you really didn’t know how to pose next to the tree while making it look natural. Forcing a smile, you attempted to lean on the tree like as if it were another person. 
“You don’t have to fake a smile,” Jungkook called from behind the camera.
“I don’t know what to do!” you called back.
“Act natural!”
“How do I do that?”
“Naturally!”
His response rewarded him a sarcastic eye roll, followed by a burst of laughter. Jungkook furiously clicked his camera as you laughed even harder. He praised you for ‘being in your natural state’ as he took shots from ridiculous angles. He gave you a thumbs up after he was satisfied with the impromptu photoshoot.
“Is laughing until I can’t breathe just me being in my natural state?” you asked playfully as you sat back down on the picnic blanket.
“It was authentic, so I would say so. I wish I could capture sound too, your laugh is so cute,” Jungkook said nonchalantly as he scrolled through the photos.
His eyes widened as soon as he realized what he said. He opened his mouth to try and take it back, or at least cover it up. He looked over at you shyly, only to see that you were digging out dessert from the basket. He let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, you didn’t hear him. 
“How were the pictures?” you asked, scooting to sit beside him after handing him the dessert.
“See for yourself,” he proudly showed you.
You were amazed by his talent. Even without editing, the photos looked like they were ready to be submitted into a contest. Everything looked so perfect. Your smile was genuine, the lighting was optimal, and your hair looked surprisingly good. You applauded him for his talent, to which he bashfully denied by saying he was still such an amatuer. You both finally dug into the desserts. 
“These chocolate buns were amazing,” Jungkook licked his lips after he finished it.
“They’re my personal favorite! They’re also the best things that I can make on my own,” you winked at him as you finished yours.
“You made these?” Jungkook’s doe eyes filled with awe.
“Yep! Don’t act so surprised,” you pouted.
“Sorry, it’s just that you told me your parents bake everything. These were really good! Probably the best things I’ve had since--oh wait. You have a little something,” Jungkook leaned forward to wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb. 
You both froze for a second, in shock of this intimate gesture. Jungkook’s mouth opened to apologize, but you stopped him before he had the chance. Without thinking about it, you put your mouth around his thumb. You sucked on it for a second before you snapped back to reality. You started apologizing profusely the instant his thumb left your mouth. 
“It’s okay! I shouldn’t have touched you in the first place,” Jungkook shied away from you, refusing to look you in the eyes. 
“I don’t know what came over me,” you apologized as you grabbed his hand.
Jungkook looked at you with an embarrassed expression the moment you held his hand in yours. At first you didn’t realize why he was so embarrassed, you were the one sucking his thumb. But then, you noticed Jungkook sheepishly resting his other hand in his lap.
“Jungkook,” you said sweetly.
“Yes?” he answered, his eyes averting yours once more. 
“Do you want me to do it again?”
“Huh?” he looked back at you with disbelief. 
You made a bold move as you moved to straddle his lap, each leg settling beside his waist. You brought his hand up to your mouth and batted your eyes innocently.
“Like this,” you say before licking his pointer finger. 
Jungkook gulped while slowly nodding his head, giving you permission to continue. His eyes stayed glued on you as you wrapped your lips around his finger. You dragged your flattened out tongue from the base to the tip. You then reversed this motion, but instead only using the tip of your tongue. You began to work on his middle finger as well. It was hard to fit his long fingers in your mouth, but you’re no quitter. Your tongue weaved between his fingers, adequately coating them with your saliva.
Jungkook’s breaths quickened the longer you went on. You felt a bulge grow between your thighs as you straddled him. Perhaps wearing a dress was a great idea after all. Your hips began to move on their own as you slowly grinded on Jungkook. 
“____…” Jungkook moaned quietly when you daringly took three fingers into your mouth.
Rubbing your clothed pussy against his hard crotch spurred you on even more. Drool was dribbling down Jungkook’s arm and your chin, but neither of you cared. It just made you look more erotic to him. His other hand was on your hip to help you maintain a rhythm. You opened your eyes to make contact with his as you suckled his fingers. That’s all it took to make him come undone.
He quickly pushed you off of him as he cried out. You were both too shocked to say anything for a few seconds. Jungkook seemed too embarrassed to look you in the eyes again, his cheeks bright red.
“Jungkook, I--” you started to apologize.
“You probably think I’m pretty lame huh? Cumming in my pants like some sort of middle schooler,” he looked down in defeat. 
“What? No, of course not!” you disagreed.
“Don’t lie,” Jungkook refused to believe you.
“Jungkook, that was honestly the hottest thing I’ve ever done. What we just did was hotter than when I was actually having sex,” you tried to cheer him up. 
“You’re not lying?” Jungkook finally looked up at you with sad puppy dog eyes.
“I swear I’m not. I could help you clean it up, if you’d like,” you offered. 
“I think that would make me feel worse. Just hand me some napkins and I’ll go take care of it myself,” he declined.
You packed everything up while you waited for Jungkook to return. He discreetly threw away the ball of used napkins into the designated trash bag, praying to god that you weren’t looking. 
The walk back was quiet and awkward. Neither of you knew what to say. You were horrified with how you acted; you’ve never been so bold before. Jungkook was ashamed of cumming before he had the chance to do anything to you. He felt so pathetic. 
“I’m sorry for making you so uncomfortable, Jungkook,” you finally apologized.
“Are you kidding? You think I would cum that fast if I was uncomfortable?” Jungkook looked at you with incredulity, “I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m disgusting and came in my pants while you did all the hard work.”
“You’re not disgusting at all, Jungkook. I enjoyed it too. I can’t remember the last time I was that horny,” you laughed.
All the tension in the air had disappeared. Jungkook bounced back to being his cheery self. The conversation went back to normal as you brought him back to the bakery. You hugged him goodbye and were about to leave when he caught your hand.
“Thank you so much for the tour. I know we’ve only known each other for a day but... would you like to go on a date with me?” Jungkook asked with a hopeful look in his eyes.
“No,” you said firmly, watching his shoulders fall, “I’d love to go on a date with you,” you smirked.
“You jerk!” Jungkook gasped. 
You couldn’t help it, he was too easy to tease. After working out the details, it was decided that he would come pick you up on Friday night. 
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Jungkook took you to basically the only restaurant in town (that wasn’t the cafe). It was a family run Italian eatery, and it took Jungkook by surprise.
“Is everyone in this place a master chef or something? This is delicious!” he praised as he ate his pasta.
“I guess it’s the authenticity of family recipes? You probably eat at more chain restaurants while you’re in the city,” you shrugged as you twirled noodles around your fork.
The date went on pleasantly. Jungkook wanted to know as much about you as you did him. The conversations you had were lively and fun; there was never a dull moment with him. Something about him just automatically clicked with you.
“What’s your favorite thing to photograph?” you asked.
“I like taking pictures of landscapes and buildings. That’s why I was super excited about going to a university in the city. It’s a lot easier than taking pictures of people! Unfortunately, that’s where the money is right now,” he explained.
“You don’t like taking pictures of people?”
“Not really, no,” he answered bluntly.
“Then why did you ask me to model for you?” you were genuinely curious.
Jungkook froze in his seat. He took a long sip of his drink before answering you. 
“For practice, I suppose,” he said softly. 
“I’m happy I was able to help then,” you smiled, thinking nothing of it. 
Jungkook seemed grateful that you didn’t press for more details, and was soon coaxed out of his shy shell once the topic of anime came around. You were happy that he took you out on a proper date, you hadn’t been on one in so long.
He walked you back under the pale moonlight. You were admiring the twinkling stars when you realized that Jungkook hadn’t said anything in a while. His hand awkwardly brushed against yours when you first left the restaurant, but you didn’t think much of it. Jungkook seemed to be thinking hard about something as he walked alongside you. You were going to say something when the back of his hand brushed against yours again. He instantly pulled away and uttered a small “sorry”.
“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” you were worried now, you thought the date went well. 
“Nothing…,” his voice trailed off as he looked away.
You interlocked his pinky with yours without a word. Jungkook looked over at you with surprise, but said nothing. He admonished himself for not committing to hold your hand, but he was happy with this too. In fact, he thought it was cuter than actual hand holding.
You arrived in front of your house. Bidding Jungkook goodnight, you went in for a hug. Jungkook also went in for a hug, but he leaned the same way you did. In a quick bumble, your lips grazed the corner of Jungkook’s, causing you to jump back. You stood in Jungkook’s arms, looking away in embarrassment. He brought up one of his hands to cup your cheek, forcing you to look back at him. His eyes sparkled under the moonlight as he gazed into yours. 
Slowly, you found yourself leaning forward. Jungkook met you in the middle, his lips finding yours. It was a tender kiss, sweet and soft. You broke it off after a couple seconds to giggle, but Jungkook pulled you back into it. He kissed you gently, yet with so much passion. You reciprocated his affection as your fingers intertwined with his hair, deepening the kiss.
He finally pulled away, smiling back at you. To be honest, you wish it lasted longer. However, you knew you would have had a hard time controlling yourself if it did.
“Thank you for dinner,” you thanked him with a soft voice.
“Of course, thank you for accompanying me,” he bowed like a gentleman and kissed your hand. You couldn’t help but laugh at his gesture.
“Too much?” he tilted his head.
“Don’t change a thing,” you continued to laugh. 
All sorts of thoughts about Jungkook swam in your mind as you fell asleep that night. 
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Jungkook soon began to hangout with you every day. When he wasn’t out trying to take pictures, he would be in the bakery keeping you company. Your parents teased him, saying that he better buy something or else they’d kick him out, but they never did. In fact, your mom would always sneak him some freshly baked goods. 
After work, you and Jungkook would spend even more time together. It didn’t matter if you guys were exploring nature, cooling off in the stream, or just watching movies; you enjoyed it all. It was nice having someone to talk to for a change. Jungkook never asked to make plans with you, he just assumed you guys would hangout the next day when he said “see ya tomorrow!”
You knew you had a crush on Jungkook, but you didn’t know how he felt. Yes, he took you on a date. Yes, you’ve kissed. Yes, you made in cum in his pants (not necessarily in that order). You were waiting on him to ask you to be his girlfriend. You didn’t want to pressure him, especially when you knew that he’d be going back to school in the fall. 
One day, much to your chagrin, Jungkook was helping you with inventory. You argued that he shouldn’t work since he wasn’t getting paid, but he smiled and replied that spending time with you was all the payment he needed. You were too flustered to argue after that.
“Great, everything has been accounted for! Can you help me put this box back up there?” you asked him, nodding your head at a particularly high shelf that was out of your reach. You grabbed a step stool for him to make it easier.
Jungkook lifted up the heavy box of supplies with ease, and placed it back on the shelf. He looked down at you and smiled.
“What?” you cocked your head.
He said nothing as he leaned down and kissed your forehead, “You just look cute from up here.”
You looked away as you blushed, not knowing what to say. Jungkook laughed as he got down from the step stool. He teased you about it for the rest of the day.
Days flew by as it was getting closer and closer to Jungkook’s departure. You let Jungkook decide on what to do during his last day there. He picked you up at the bakery after your shift. He wanted to take one last stroll with you around town before he had to leave. You were about to hug him goodbye when he invited you over, saying that he had a box of popcorn he needed help finishing.
After watching a couple movies, Jungkook had his arms around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. Cuddling had become a norm between you two. Jungkook suddenly nudged your side, causing you to shriek.
“Sorry, just making sure you were still awake,” he giggled.
“I was, but now I definitely am,” you said as you returned the favor and tickled his sides.
It soon became a war of tickling as laughter erupted from both of you. Jungkook was just as ticklish as you were, making it a deadly battle. Before you knew it, you were straddling Jungkook, gripping both of his wrists in your hands. You both stared at each other as the laughter subsided, now replaced with heavy breathing. 
“You could easily knock me over, you know,” you said as you lowered your nose to his.
“What if I don’t want to?” he whispered back.
He moved his head upwards to kiss you, catching you by surprise. You kissed him back, pushing him back down. You lowered your hips to rest on his hardened crotch. You let go of his wrists to help him take off his shirt before removing your own. 
Once your lips connected again, Jungkook’s hands moved freely over your body, gently caressing your breasts. He treated you so tenderly, it made you even hornier. Your hands reached down to unzip his pants.
“Is this okay?” you paused to ask.
“Only if you take off your pants too,” he answered with a smirk.
Soon enough you were both down to just your underwear. You palmed Jungkook’s erection, curious to see it. It already felt huge in comparison to your hands.
“I want to fuck you, _____,” Jungkook groaned as you kissed his neck.
“I’m glad we want the same thing. Where do you want me?” you cooed. 
“Like this is fine,” he quickly answered. 
He helped you take off his underwear, revealing his massive dick. Your pussy clenched at the sight of it. You wriggled out of your panties and positioned yourself on top of him. 
“Ready?” you asked.
Jungkook just nodded, his eyes wide with anticipation. He gulped as he watched you slowly lower yourself onto him, taking in each inch slowly. You moaned as he went deeper and deeper in you. You hadn’t had sex in a long time (and admittedly it wasn’t very good). Now, you were sopping wet and Jungkook was filling you up perfectly. Once you reached the base of his dick, you took your time going back up.
From the look on Jungkook’s face, he was in pure bliss. You continued to tease him as you fucked him slowly. You transitioned from taking his entire length to just swiveling around his tip, making him moan from the overstimulation. Jungkook dug his nails into your lower back, begging you to take all of him in again.
You leaned back over and peppered kisses along his chest and up his neck. Jungkook whimpered at the sensation, his breathing grew uneven. You giggled at him as you suckled on his neck, leaving wet kisses in your wake. Once you had enough of teasing him, you slammed back down onto him, and both your moans filled the room. Your hips began to move faster as you bounced on top of him. Jungkook’s grip on you tightened. 
“I--I’m gonna cum,” he panicked.
You immediately hopped off, hoping to edge him. He whimpered at the loss of your warm pussy, but your plan seemed to work. His eyes begged you to get back on top. 
“Now it’s your turn to fuck me,” you demanded as you laid down on your back.
Jungkook complied and positioned himself between your legs. He bent over to kiss you while he pushed his cock back inside of you. He took his time at first, but then tried to pick up the pace. His movements were awkward and stiff, and his pelvis hit your hips in a way that you knew they were going to bruise later.
“Jungkook, just relax,” you commanded.
Jungkook steadied his breathing and took your advice. He was finally able to find a rhythm and stuck to it. Luckily, it was the perfect rhythm for you as he continuously grazed your g-spot. Jungkook moaned with every stroke as your warm insides squeezed around him. You wrapped your legs around him, bringing him even closer. You looked up at him to see that the usual sweet star filled doe eyes of his had switched to a version of pure ecstasy as he gazed down at you with blown out pupils. The change was a little jarring, but also incredibly sexy when you realized the potential duality Jungkook could have. You pulled him into a deep kiss, tongues exploring foreign regions as he pounded into you. 
“I’m gonna--,” his breath hitched.
“Cum on me baby,” you panted as you furiously rubbed your clit, desperate to cum with him.
With perfect timing, Jungkook got to feel you cum around him for a few seconds before he had to pull out and finish all over your chest. He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before scurrying off to find something to clean you with. 
He rested his head on your chest as you held him close. You were falling asleep when he said something.
“Sorry, what did you say?” you asked him since you barely heard him.
“I am, well I guess was, a virgin,” Jungkook admitted.
“Oh,” you tried to mask your surprise.
“I didn’t wanna say anything. I mean, how lame is it that I’m a college senior and have never gotten laid. You’re probably surprised huh? I’m not lying, I swear.”
“I am surprised, but only because you seem like ladies would be all over you. You’re so handsome, funny, charming--”
“Yes yes keep going,” Jungkook joked.
“--and a genuinely good guy. Plus I feel like being a photographer would help you meet a lot of pretty girls,” you reasoned.
“While all of that is true, the real reason is pretty embarrassing. I’m...I’ve always been kinda scared of girls,” Jungkook sighed as you tried to suppress your laughter, “I’m not kidding! I always get so nervous around girls, I could never actually talk to them.”
“So am I not a girl in your eyes?” you teased.
“You’re a woman,” he answered cockily.
“Shut up! I hope your first time was enjoyable. Thanks for entrusting me with your v card,” you laughed.
You both continued joking and laughing the night away until you fell asleep in each other’s arms. While that night was enjoyable, it made Jungkook’s absence hurt more. 
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Life had sunk back into the same mundane routines once Jungkook left. Of course, he still kept in touch. He would text and video call you as often as he could. He’d send you pictures of his newest shooting locations, and you’d always be the first person he’d show his finished products. 
You loved witnessing Jungkook’s passion grow, he had a new spark in him that wasn’t there before. With your encouragement as an extra shove, he applied to his dream job. He explained to you that it was with an agency that would send him to a random country where he’d work with a participating magazine company. You secretly envied him for even having the possibility of exploring the world. 
Days and weeks started to blend together. Your parents insisted on having you help out more in the kitchen, presumably to get your mind off of Jungkook. 
It was a weird fling you had with him. However, it also didn’t seem like a fling. Most flings didn’t still keep in touch in a long distance “friendship”, or whatever it was you had. You were never officially dating, but it sure as hell felt that way. You cursed yourself for waiting for him to ask, you should’ve just done it yourself. Of course, part of you felt like you’d just hold him back if you guys actually ended up dating. 
These thoughts constantly swarmed your mind. Ironically, the only time you weren’t thinking about your dilemma was when you were chatting with Jungkook. The end of the semester was quickly approaching, and you could tell that he was getting antsy. He hadn’t gotten offers from anywhere that he applied. You could do nothing but give him hope but assuring him that someone somewhere will hire him. 
You watched snow fall outside when you got a call. 
“I GOT IN!!!” Jungkook exclaimed.
“What?! Where?!” you jumped up in excitement.
“My top choice! The one where they send me to another country! Guess where I’m going,” he sing songed.
“Umm… Italy?”
“Close! I’m going to España,” he said with a spanish accent.
“That’s amazing, Jungkook. I’m so proud of you! I knew you could do it. When do you leave?” you asked.
“In a week. God, I’m so excited! Oh, my parents are calling. I’ll talk to you later?”
“Of course. Congrats again,” you cheered before he hung up.
Before you knew it, you were crying. You were honestly happy for Jungkook, but reality hit you. You were never going to be able to tell him that you loved him. You were never going to be with him, not while you’re stuck in this town. It sucked, but you had no choice but to accept that. 
Two days had passed since that phone call. Jungkook was probably busy packing and working out minor details, so you stayed out of his way. You figured things would probably be like this from now on. Why would he bother talking to a small town girl while he’s out exploring the world? 
You were restocking the milk puddings rolls when the front bell chimed. 
“I’ll be with you in a second,” you called out.
“No worries, I’ll wait all day if I have to,” a familiar voice responded.
You dropped the rolls as you turned around with lightning fast speed. Jungkook stood at the doorway, beaming a big bunny smile at you. You ran to him, embracing him in a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead. 
“Surprise,” he smiled.
“What are you doing here?” you asked as you wiped tears from your eyes.
“I needed to see you. I was planning on coming back and surprising you even before I left. You didn’t think I’d leave without saying goodbye, did you?” he ruffled your hair, “Oh, and those tiger flowers are beautiful,” he nodded over to the flower bouquet on the checkout counter.
“I got them because they reminded me of you,” you blushed, your ears turning red.
“Did I hear Jungkook?” you mom poked her head out of the kitchen, “Oh my goodness! Honey look! Jungkook is back!” she called your dad. 
Your parents came out to greet him. He explained everything to them, and they congratulated him. 
“How long will you be here? Aren’t you leaving soon?” your dad inquired.
“I leave tomorrow night. I wish I could stay longer,” Jungkook answered solemnly. 
“____ suddenly doesn’t have to work until after you’ve left,” your mom smiled fondly at you.
Your eyes lit up as you kissed your parents on the cheek to thank them. After grabbing your jacket, you took Jungkook’s hand and dragged him out. You both aimlessly walked around the town as you chatted. He went more in depth with the details of his job. He was most excited about capturing photos of the city. After looking up some pictures of the architecture, he immediately fell in love with Madrid.
Jungkook invited you over to watch some of the short films he worked on over the past semester. While they were just videos of his friends with no plot, you could feel their friendship seeping through the screen. The way Jungkook played with music and colors really enhanced the already well shot video. You felt at peace sitting beside Jungkook on his bed as he showed you all his past projects. Part of you wished that this moment would never end. 
“You’ve made me a better person, you know,” Jungkook said out of nowhere, “I’m more talkative around my friends, and I’ve gotten more comfortable with being myself.”
“I didn’t do anything, that’s all you,” you smiled as you poked his chest. 
“You definitely helped,” he ran his fingers through your hair, “I love you, ____.”
Your heart skipped a beat.
“I love you too. I thought I’d never get to say that,” you said with a sigh of relief. 
He looked into your eyes before leaning forward slowly. You’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, you practically pounced on him. You kissed him passionately, as if to show him how much you missed him. Clothes were thrown in every direction leading to bare skin being exposed.
Jungkook’s soft hands roamed across your body as if he were trying to memorize your every curve. His touch was a bit rougher than the last time, his lips crashed against yours as he pinched your nipples. You couldn’t tell if it was desperation, carnal lust, or just a new side of Jungkook, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. His erection pressed against your thigh as your hands tangled themselves in his dark hair. You reached down to grab his cock, gripping from the base and slowly dragging your hand to the tip and then back down. He shuddered at the sensation, moaning into your mouth. 
“Should I get on top?” you batted your eyes.
“Nope, I have a better idea,” Jungkook growled as he flipped you over onto your knees, “Can I fuck you like this?”
“Fuck me however you want,” you answered gleefully. 
Jungkook rammed into you without hesitation. He firmly gripped your hips to keep you in place as he thrusted into you. His dick sent waves of ecstasy as he crashed into you. He surprised you when he reached his hand around you to play with your clit, causing you to squirm under him.
“Be a good girl and stay still,” he ordered. 
His newfound dominance turned you on. He was no longer the baby boy that followed your every move, although you were sure that side of him was still there somewhere. You got lost in pleasure and didn’t realize how far gone you were till you felt liquid dripping down your inner thighs.
“You’re so fucking wet baby. All this for me?” Jungkook panted as he continued snapping his hips into you.
“Mhm, of course. Only for you,” you managed to moan out between thrusts.
“That’s my good girl. Get up,” he demanded as he hopped off the bed. 
You obeyed, curious as to what he was going to do. As soon as you got off the bed, he spun you around and pushed your chest back over the covers. He slipped back into you with ease, groaning as your slick juices coated his cock. This new position enabled Jungkook to directly hit your g-spot with each thrust. Again, his hand wrapped around your waist to find your clit. His other hand found purchase on your neck, slightly choking you. The overstimulation had you crying out in bliss that you had never experienced before.  
You were practically gushing now as your wetness ran down your legs and sprayed onto Jungkook’s thighs with each strong impact.  Jungkook lifted up one of your legs onto the bed, spreading your pussy.
“Now touch yourself for me,” Jungkook directed.
He didn’t have to tell you twice. Your legs started to shake as you played with your clit at the perfect pace while Jungkook drilled into you. You were sure that you had already came numerous times by this point, but you could feel the grand finale soon approaching.   
“Jungkook I--” you didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence as you climaxed onto his dick. He was infatuated with the way you looked from behind, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He pushed you back onto the bed with your legs still hanging from the edge. He reinserted himself while you laid there, completely delusional from the pounding you had been receiving. 
“You’re such a sexy woman,” he moaned as he anchored the weight of his arms onto your shoulders. 
He continued his torment downwards. Your bountiful cheeks bounced back and forth while he repeatedly rammed into your g-spot causing you to release more of the juices his massive cock craved. 
 He slowed his pace but still kept going to help you ride out your high for as long as possible. The sensation of you cumming on him was enough to bring him right to the brink of no return.
“Can I cum on you?” he pleaded in a tone all too familiar to you.
“Please do,” you nodded.
“God, you’re so sexy,” he said as he gave you a couple more hard thrusts before pulling out and coating your ass with white strings. 
Jungkook held you in his arms after wiping you down with a towel, both of your chests heaving in sync. You both managed to work up a sweat, but Jungkook still smelled amazing. He played with your hair as your eyelids started to get heavy. 
“_____,” he whispered softly.
“Yes, Jungkook?” you replied with your eyes still closed. 
“Come with me.”
“What?” your eyes shot open. 
“Come with me to Spain. I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t care. You’ll finally get the adventure you’ve always wanted, and we’ll do it together,” he kissed your forehead. 
His unexpected proposition had you overwhelmed. You were speechless. You would go with him in a heartbeat. It wouldn’t matter where you’d go, as long as you were with him. 
“Jungkook...you know I can’t do that,” you fought back tears, nuzzling yourself further into his chest. 
“I wanted to ask your parents as soon as I arrived but you rushed me out too quickly and--”
“I can’t leave them, you know that,” silent tears rolled down your cheeks. 
“I think they’d understand. Plus, you’ve said that they’ve tried to convince you to go to college,” Jungkook was getting desperate, he thought you’d agree on the spot.
“They need my help now more than ever. My parents are getting old. As much as I want to leave this place, I can’t. I’m going to be stuck here forever. I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you wept.
“It’s okay, ___. We can ask them tomorrow, how does that sound?” he rubbed your back. 
“No, I can’t do that to them. You know they’ll say yes. I have to stay,” you sniffled.
“You’re a great daughter. I can’t force you to come with me. I’ll miss you. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” Jungkook’s voice started to falter.
“Don’t worry about me. Go live out your life. Eat great food. Take beautiful pictures. Meet pretty girls,” you tried to lighten the mood.
“You think I want to meet pretty girls? Why would I do that when I have you,” he hugged you tightly.
“We aren’t even dating, Jungkook. I don’t want to hinder you more than I already have,” you blurted. 
“I...I know we aren’t dating. Not officially. But that’s just a stupid label. I want to be with you,” Jungkook’s voice softened to hide his pain. 
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you said as you got up.
Jungkook immediately pulled you back into him. Your nose brushed against his wet cheek, causing you to freeze up when you realized that he had also been crying.
“Please stay with me. At least just for tonight,” he pleaded.
“Alright. I can do that,” you softly kiss him. 
You woke up the next morning with your head on Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook looked adorable while he was asleep, with his mouth agape and his hair falling messily over his forehead. You tried to inch away, but he just pulled you closer, making it impossible to escape. 
He woke up with a yawn a couple minutes later. He smiled down at you before ruffling your hair.
“Jungkook, I’m sorry about last night. I--”
“Let’s not talk about it. This is my last day with you for god knows how long. Let’s just enjoy ourselves, okay?” he interrupted you.
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It had been three years since that spring when you met Jungkook. You sometimes reminisce about the times you had with Jeon Jungkook. It honestly felt like a dream. Communication with him slowly faded away, and now the only conversations you had with him were one message long during birthdays and holidays. You kept up with him more through Instagram. He regularly uploaded his beautiful pictures, and you could tell that his talent only grew. He had a knack for making dull buildings and streets come to life. 
Your parents planned to retire soon, leaving you to tend to the bakery by yourself. They mainly managed the front-of-house work during the busy hours now. Their goal was to finally sell the bakery, but you protested against it. As much as you wanted to be rid of the chains that tied you down, you were scared. You didn’t know what you would do if the bakery was suddenly gone. It was all you’ve ever known. 
Ever since your parents announced their retirement plans, you started to dabble in pastry making. They were impressed with your skills, and your creations got added to the menu. Word spread that the already famous bakery was now carrying delicious pastries, and business soared. 
You were busy decorating your latest desserts when your mother came into the kitchen.
“Your father and I have to go run a quick errand, we’ll be back soon!” she said before giving you time to protest. You grumbled to yourself as you placed strawberries on your cakes, praying that no one would come in.
“Hello? Anyone here? The sign says open,” someone called from the front.
‘God dammit’, you thought before putting on a fake customer service smile. 
“Welcome to--” you stopped in your tracks.
Jungkook was standing in the middle of your bakery, looking even more handsome than you had remembered him. His face lit up as soon as he saw you. You couldn’t help yourself as you ran towards him, colliding into him with a forceful hug.
“I hear you sell desserts now,” he grinned.
“Jungkook! What are you doing here? Your hair, it’s so long! And...do you have tattoos now?!” you were in shock. 
“Do I look more artsy now?” he laughed, “I came to see you. I wanted to try your desserts too, of course. No one would believe me when I said nothing can compare to your family’s bakery. Oh, I have a present for you.”
You became giddy with excitement as Jungkook brought out a brown paper bag and handed it to you. You pulled out prints of a beautiful girl standing in a forest. Wait...it looked familiar…
“Is this me?” you asked as your mouth hung open.
“Yeah, these are the pictures from when you took me on that picnic. Would you believe me if I said I barely had to touch anything up? They were already nearly perfect,” Jungkook said proudly.
“It’s because you’re a talented photographer,” you smiled.  
“That, and because I had the perfect model. How could I not ask the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen to model for me?” he said as he tucked your hair behind your ear.
“So I wasn’t just practice?” you recalled asking him about it all those years ago.
“I was so nervous back then, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth,” he laughed, “I’m much more open now.”
You promptly switched the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’ and sat Jungkook down. You brought out one of your fresh strawberry cakes, eager to hear his opinion. His face contorted with pleasure as he took the first bite. He complimented the flavors and textures, saying that everything tasted like perfect harmony. You laughed together as he shared stories of his time abroad. He intently listened while you opened up about the struggles of the bakery. 
“Anyway, that’s enough complaining for now. I’m happy you’re back! How long are you staying for this time?” you tilted your head. 
“Depends,” Jungkook answered as he gazed out the window. He looked back at you with a serious expression. He quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you close, bringing your face just inches away from his.
“Do you still want to explore the world?” he asked.
“Of course, that’ll never change. But...you know I can’t,” you answered somberly. 
“After everything you just told me, you still think you have to stay here?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow, “My next gig is going to be in France. Come with me this time, _____.”
You stared at him with a stunned expression. You thought he had forgotten about you. Now here he is, asking you to run away with him again.
“Why did you lose touch? I thought you had moved on. I made peace with that. God, it hurt like hell, but I came to terms with it. And now we’re doing this again,” your voice cracked as tears welled in your eyes.
“Honestly, it hurt me too much. I couldn’t bear talking to you every day or video chatting you, without knowing when I’d see you next. I never stopped thinking about you. I tried. I tried to forget...but no one could ever come close to you,” Jungkook cupped your cheek in his palm, “There’s a really good patissiere academy close to where I’ll be working. You could go there and sharpen your skills! Then maybe one day open up a bakery of your own...if you wanted.”
“But what about my parents--”
“Stop using us as an excuse to hold yourself back,” your mom scolded you as she entered the bakery.
“Did you like your surprise?” your dad winked.
“You knew?” you were bewildered.
“Jungkook contacted us a while back, asking if we thought his plan could ever be a possibility. I figured you were still head over heels for him since you never dated anyone else,” your mom shrugged.
“If you want to go, go. Don’t worry about us. We can sell the bakery, and finally retire,” your dad said. 
“You have your parents’ blessing, ____. This decision is entirely up to you. What’s it gonna be? Will you come with me to France?” Jungkook asked again.
“I..,” you looked at your parents before your eyes wandered back to Jungkook, “Yes. I’d love to,” tears of joy rolled down your cheeks.
Jungkook got up and embraced you in a tight hug before he whispered, “I’ve missed you so much,” in your ear. 
“Well, we better start packing,” Jungkook turned to your parents.
“Packing? Already?” your eyes widened. 
“We leave by the end of the week!” Jungkook gleefully took your hand and dashed out of the store. 
Jungkook dragged you through the town up to your house. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched his long hair bounce around while you ran. You could’ve sworn that sometimes they looked like bunny ears.
He was definitely Jungkook, but he seemed like the upgraded version of the shy boy you once knew. He had a new confident aura around him, and he seemed more manly than boyish now. Everything was happening so quickly, but you were nothing but excited for the adventures to come. 
As long as Jungkook was by your side, you were ready to take on the world. 
Published March 26, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2021 Baepsaesbae.
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stagemanagerssaygo · 4 years
Text
Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney’s Hyperion Theater
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by Cooper Howell
Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney's Hyperion Theater. #holdingtheateraccountable Im just gonna go ahead and be straight up. This is pretty scary to share. HEAVEN: Once upon a time Liesl Tommy cast me as Prince Hans in Frozen: Live at the Hyperion. And I was gooped. GOOPED. There was nothing in my prior history that gave any indication this was possible. Up until then every role I played had to do with my race. Every. Single. One. And even ones where it didn’t (Shakespeare or classical pieces mostly) I was always made aware that the novelty of me being a poc in that role that gave me the part. So much did I not expect to get this part that when I got the callback I rolled my eyes and didn’t take the actual callback seriously. I mean, there was a zero percent chance that Disney would ever let me play a Prince, especially when the dude in the movie is a ginger. But then I got it. And immediately everything I thought was possible about my career changed. My whole life I’ve never inwardly felt black. I’ve never inwardly felt white. I’ve always felt like I was Cooper, you know, on the inside. But whether it was every single white human in Utah reminding me that I was “the whitest person they ever knew/saw” (which DIDNT mean how white my skin was. It was how white I ACTED) or Mr. Johnson, my 7th grade drama teacher, telling me that he “wanted to put Velcro on the ceiling to see if I’d stick” or Mr. Smith, my high school drama teacher, saying “finally we can do black shows” as soon as I entered high school and then not casting me in roles because of the "optics" of it, or even my best friend in high school Tanner Harmon who called me "blackie", I was always reminded that I was an other. So imagine getting paid good money to put on that $10,000 costume and waltzing out to 4000 people a day to play a really amazing part. A fantastic, evil, complicated, person who sings a killer duet and then grabs the show by the throat with a vicious about-face monologue... and not once was my race ever mentioned cuz it didnt matter. What was being prized was Cooper, my talent, not my skin color that I never asked for. Heaven. Liesl MADE SURE, almost overly sure, that the poc’s in the cast felt equal. The kingdom of Arendelle, after all, is a make believe place. It can be whatever. From having Disney executives come and tell us that they were happy to have us there, to side conversations with John Lasseter, we were made to feel overly welcome playing the parts we were playing. She encouraged us to dive deeper into the script of a cartoon that I didnt really think much of until I was in it. We were encouraged to ask why. We felt seen as talent and not commodities. There were, of course, detractors. Gosh, I remember people at a party of cast members from "Mickey and the Magical Map" another show at Disneyland which features a princess and the frog number and many of those casts mates angrily claiming that “if that black girl Tiana Okoye can play Elsa than I should be able to play Princess Tiana” and then looking at me to confirm that was okay to say, not realizing that a) she’s one of my best friends, b) that I’m in the show with her also playing a role that wasn't created to be a poc, c) how racist that sounded, and d) why there's a difference there and why that wouldn't make sense. On Liesls final night I came up to her and said “I don’t know why you did it but thank you so much for casting ME in this part” to which she replied “you mean why would I cast a handsome, talented person in this role?” And I stuttered something like “well, I mean, I’m black. You know...” to which she tilted her head to her side and said “no. I don’t know why. Tell me why that matters.” And I had no answer. Seeing that I had no answer she smiled. That was the answer. There was no reason. On the spot my outlook about myself changed. Windows into what I thought was possible for me opened. -------------------------------------- HELL: And then Liesl went back to NYC and she was replaced by a man named Roger Castellano as show director. Rogers task, he told us on the first day, was to "change the show". We were not told what needed to be changed or even why, but that changes were on the horizon. You've got to understand: to a full cast of actors who had just spent more than three months dissecting a 60 page Disney script with a Tony nominated director like it was Shakespeare, we were initially emotionally/mentally/spiritually resistant to changes. But then it became clear that the spirit of collaboration was over, and the show changes were to be given without the same care, consideration, and thematic explanation of why they were being made. Everyones initial reaction was to push back, but when people who questioned their notes or their changes started getting days removed their schedule or being replaced entirely by a new actor, the Hyperion theater became a place where no one was allowed to speak out. Injustices were happening left and right and no one felt they could do anything for fear of losing their livelihood. And that's when the Frozen: Live at the Hyperion became a living hell. In my first note session with Roger he pulled me into a room with Domonique Paton, my best friend and incredible costar who played princess Anna in the show I was in. She just so happens to also be black. Almost all of Prince Hans’s scenes in the show are with her character and so most of my notes would be primarily based on those interactions with her. Earlier in the day I performed with a different (white) actress but it was the show with Domonique that I had a note session about. Imagine my surprise and dismay when, with how Liesl set up the show experience, we were told this: “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER ITS TOO… URBAN.” Urban. What else could that have meant, do you think? He could have said maybe “too contemporary” emphasizing that we were maybe too modern in our speech patterns or movements. We weren’t. He could have said “too lax” or “too loose” meaning that maybe we were being unprofessional and goofy up there because we’re really good friends. We were not. The best me and Ms. Paton could think of was a 8 count moment of improv dance that me and Domonique decided to use as a synchronized moment of unity. It happened to fall on the line “our mental synchronization can have but one explanation” and thought, with the freedom that Christopher (the original choreographer) had given us, was appropriate, especially considering everyone behind us was doing the robot. As in the 80s robot. But he didnt clarify. He just said “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER IT’S TOO… URBAN” And when asked what he meant he smiled with a little shrug and said "you can figure that out. You're smart." And thats how I became Black Hans and Domonique became Black Anna. My every moment onstage afterwards became about the optics of being a poc in that show. It was if I was suddenly made aware that I was LUCKY enough to be there and under any normal circumstances, or this new directors circumstances, me getting this part would have never happened. But the message was clear. It was especially clear when me and Domonique Paton shows together durastically decreased and made even more clear when the vast majority of the new hires were not people of color. But no one said anything. And made even MORE clear when, over the next few weeks, both Domonique and I got COPIOUS notes, ten times that of our coworkers that played the same parts. It was almost a game. In fact we did turn it into a game, seeing who would get the least amount of notes from him in a day. Our costars would even joke about it onstage with us, during the ballroom scene, and jokingly whisper "The shows been up 15 minutes. How many do you think you got today?" But no one said anything. And the notes were about all kinds of things. How we held our hand. If our inflections went up or down on a word. Which side of a couch we leaned on… which was fine! When you're an actor, thats the gig... until we started comparing our notes with the actors that played our same parts and none of them, NONE, would get the same notes. Our notes would be outrageously longer, the note sessions sometimes lasting 10/15 minutes. Others would get the “Oh hey, try doing this or that next time, okay bye” walk-by notes. Sometimes I would sneak into the audience and watch as some of the other Han's, some of whom changed lines, changed entire intentions of scenes, some of whom adding in all types of vocalizations and cackles and dance moves and what have you, and would receive ZERO notes. But I was watching them to see what was wrong with me. What was my performance missing? What am I actually doing to feel this singled out. And then I realized that the thing that was wrong with me was that I was a different color than the 5 other white Hans's they cast. And then I started getting notes about my penis. Most of the time these “penis sessions”, as I called them, were given in private rooms without another stage manager present. It was incredibly unpleasant and unprofessional. In fairness, those Prince Hans pants are TIGHT! And yes, Mr. Howell is indeed a party in the front and a party in the back, but so were a lot of those fellas. And thats where I put my foot down. If Disney was going to provide me with a costume it is not my responsibility to fix their problem, especially when other of my (white) costars had been given a dance belt for the same thing. But they never got penis notes. Private session notes about what their penis looked like in that show. Over and over again I was told to fix it, to not make it (my dick) so apparent, and that “if my daughter were younger I wouldn’t want her to come to a show you were performing at" all the more insulting considering his daughter, a cast member in the show, was a friend of mine and the loveliest person. He started demanding that I buy a dance belt. It was “my fault”, “my responsibility” …and thats where I took my stand. And then it really became hell. Penis sessions were now done out in the open. Once, he screamed at me, in the green room in front of all of my costars during lunch, about how incredible unprofessional I was, about how he was tired of seeing my dick, and that if I didnt go buy myself one I didnt deserve to be there anymore. Followed by a huge litany of notes. That doesnt compare to some of what Domonique went through and I invite her to share them if she’s willing. During this time I went to every stage manager in the building and told them about being singling out and about my penis. They all told me to write a complaint report and it would go to some place called "HR". Which I did. Numerously. More months passed. Nothing from "HR". Multiple cast members who witnessed my note sessions encouraged me to go to the HR themselves. I didnt honestly know what an HR was. As soon as it was explained to me by my allies even what an HR was I went to the head of HR at Disneyland herself and waited outside of her door. I asked her if she got any of my HR reports and she told me that she had received no HR reports from the Hyperion. Ever. And then asked me to fill out a HR form. As we went over it, she asked me some questions, and then set up a second meeting. On the second meeting she said that in order for my report to be given credence I would need witnesses to give their testimony. The witnesses, in fact the very people that told me to go to HR in the first place, said no. They didnt want to lose their jobs. In retrospect that might be the thing that hurt the most but, whatever... anyway, I was told "“well… without testimonies we’ll do an investigation and we’ll call you when we’ve completed it.” I never received a phone call. With absolutely zero protection from the stage managers from both the sexual harassment or my obvious racial targeting I (and others) were experiencing, not to mention that HR reports were doing nothing, aka not being forwarded, I thought about quitting. And when a white stage manager made a show mistake and laughed it off to the cast by saying an entirely offensive lynching joke, I quit. I didnt matter to Disney. How I felt and what I was being put through didnt matter. I was a commodity. My departure was unceremonious. Bizarre. 100% un-magical. I hung up my costume one last time and it was given to a new Hans, one who looked very much like me oddly, and stepped out of the theater. The park was playing “every wish your heart desires will come to you” and I remember laughing at how dead that song felt. The director has since moved on but still works as a musical theater director in Southern California. This one time 4 years ago I got to feel something other than my color for the first and only time in my professional career. It lasted from about March 2016 to July 2016 and never again since. I will never forget in those early days looking at all the beautiful princesses I got to woo and thinking “wow. I’m a prince right now.” Im sure that sounds stupid. But it didn't feel stupid. And a Disney prince! Yeah, a shitty prince kinda... I mean, he's a sociopath... BUT still a Prince! Especially special was being able to look in Dominique’s eyes and I could see the same glimmer of “can you believe we get to do this right now” reflected back. We never knew it was in the cards for us. My race always has and will always be part of my career equation and a determining factor of its projection. It will always be a determining factor in how im treated, by creatives, by people, by the those in authority over me, including the government and the police. #wasitmyskin
Copied in its entirety here from Cooper Howell’s public Facebook post: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10163696376095054&set=a.10151302685610054&type=3&theater
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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years
Text
Princess | JJ Maybank
Warnings; jealousy, mentions of drugs, and use of drugs.
Find my masterlist here
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She was rising through the ranks on figure eight, and soon, she would overtake the one, the only, Sarah Cameron. It was infuriating, no one had heard of this prissy girl in a while, and here she was, already beginning to replace the blonde.
“Uh.” Sarah groaned, noticing how even her brother was flocking over you, even Topper had returned to the dark side after his helpful stunt.
“What’s wrong Cameron?” JJ asked her, following her eyeline, and carrying his gaze along it, until he found the centre of her irritable - a group of kooks, her own.
“The princess is back in town.” She groaned, noticing how you walked through your entourage, oblivious to any of the pogues that resided on this side of the island. It was as though you didn’t hold a grudge against their species, but that was her thing, you were just trying to copy her actions.
Hell, for all she knew, you’d hook up with a southsider too, and attend the parties at the boneyard as though you were one of their own.
She knew her attitude towards you was petty, but she just couldn’t help it. You now had everything that she had lost, she was even stared down by her dad and step mother, both of whom were mildly disappointed in the side that she had taken within the whole ordeal.
“I thought that was you.” JJ noticed how her mood had turned sour, and he was aware that it was his duty to cheer her up. If John B returned with their drinks, and saw that his girlfriend was displeased, he would be the one to take the blame as it was his company that was keeping her from boredom.
“That girl.” She pointed you out, JJ’s eyes scanning every dip and curve, each mark and mole, upon your body, memorising every inch of- “is the kook. Used to have the mantle of princess before I did. Don’t dirty your hands with her Maybank, she’s a spoilt brat, and whatever she wants, she gets.”
“A kook? Not my type.” He assured her, the whole form of your beautiful being crumbling in his eyes, all because of what you essentially were. A golden finger, in the dirt of his home.
🏹
The Cameron’s house was large, but you smiled, knowing that you lived in one with a bigger foundation, and more floors. Material items were value on the island, it gave way to status.
“Hi Mr Cameron.” You greeted him, with a pristine smile that would knock him dead. Rafe was beside you, content with your obliviousness to the things that he had done.
His father had told him to find a rich, pretty thing. They were the least suspecting ones, too occupied with spending cash and dolling themselves up. It is what he himself had done, after he had worked his way up to kook status, but the wife he now had, well she was as devious and power hungry as him. They fit perfectly.
“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve heard a lot about you, not only from my son but practically the whole island. Is it good to be back?” He shook your hand, noticing the small smile slip onto his son’s face.
“It’s great, nowhere is quite like home.” The hierarchy on Outer Banks was its most predominant feature, no where else quite had an order that lacked most of itself in the same way.
“I need to talk to Rafe here for a moment, would you mind waiting here?” He expectedly asked, and once more, you could only plaster on a false expression, and happily nod.
“Not at all.” Was your reply, and as soon as they had disappeared, you were left awaiting for their return. You plucked at the skin around your nails, and tapped your foot, trying to reduce the enveloping silence that made you feel small and anxious.
Another person entered the room, making you slowly spin to greet them. It was Sarah, and a look of worry crossed over her face, it was quite amusing. The Sarah Cameron, was concerned for you.
“Rafe isn’t a good guy.” She spoke slowly, thinking that you were interested in her older sibling. It made you quirk your eyebrow in surprise, you had never expected her to talk about her family to you, or at all in general. “You can do a lot better.”
“Don’t worry Sarah, I don’t want him, nor do I want to be the so called ‘princess’ of this wealthy establishment. I hate figure eight, it sucks. It’s boring, it’s just parties here, and parties there, but they’re all sophisticated and you have to dress nicely. Sure, the luxury is great, the expectations of washing your hair every day, wearing perfume that literally burns my eyes, and having to dress so- ugh, it’s just gross. You can take the throne back if you want, it’s not too comfortable, it squeezes me in all th wrong places.”
Your paragraph of speech left Sarah in shock, you had been faking it all along. The laughs were all pretend, the smiles were all forced, and she no doubt had one thing left on my mind. “Then why, out of all the kooks, are you hanging it with my brother?”
Nonchantly you shrugged, a sparkle flaring in your eyes. “He thinks he’s gonna get laid, and so until he realises that he isn’t, and he can’t touch this hot bod, then I get free weed.”
“Well played y/l/n, well played.” Nobody had used Rafe and had to give nothing in return, yet you had found the perfect trick.
“He also thinks I’m a virgin, sooooo, my contract is going to last a while, I suppose.” She almost laughed at that, she wondered how you had given him that impression in the first place. Before you had moved, she had seen you makeout and consentually grope countless guys, leading them to dark corners and your empty car.
It wasn’t something that she had ever admit, but for the first time in her life, she thought that you’d make the perfect friend. You sounded just like a pogue, but instead you were living the ‘high life’, and rolling in the cash and smokes that were thrown your way, with no charge.
🏹
JJ on instinct, creased his face up at the sight of Sarah leaving John B and the others at the boneyard, only to walk over to an intruder. She had told him that she didn’t like her, however her stride and smile supposed otherwise.
“Who’s that?” John B leant over his friend’s shoulder, watching his girlfriend interact with a stranger.
“The kook princess.” JJ informed him, spitting the name out of his mouth, glaring at the kook that had the nerve to once again, walk onto his side of his island. And not only that, but to invite herself to the party.
“She got a name?” John B asked, and that was when JJ realised, that he didn’t know it. Before you had moved, you kept to your side of the island, but the times were changing, with relationships and friendships between pogues and kooks beginning. All you wanted was to be accepted, and if they didn’t like the fact that you were born a kook, then that was most definitely their problem.
“Hey, I’m so glad that you could make it.” Sarah greeted you, you shyly smiled, still not familiar with her being so polite to you. You’d notice her cast you the stink eye on more than one occasion, and how she would speak about you at school in the time prior to your move away.
“I still don’t understand why you invited me.” You honestly said, uncertain by her intentions. If she had other motivations, then you could deal with them, she wouldn’t be the first one to try and challenge you for your position. And either way, you didn’t want it, it were only a weight on your shoulders, but some kooks wanted you to remain their royalty, and so by their reputation, you did.
You pulled a blunt from your shorts pocket, and lit it, inhaling slowly and awaiting an answer from the relaxant. It calmed you, and made the thoughts of being the only kook here, excluding Sarah, go away.
“I want you to meet my friends.” She spoke, and you nodded, more entertained by the smoke that rolled out of your mouth than her intentions. Her hand grabbed your own, and she began to drag you through the sea of people, until she reached a small fire pit, where four people were sat.
You already knew of them, John B being the one on your side of the island the most. It of course was because of Sarah, and her successful attempts to seduce him, and sneak him into her room.
“This is y/n.” She told them, and you didn’t notice the way JJ focused on the weed that hung from the clasp of your fingers. He was surprised by the consumption you had of it, and watched intently as you went in for another puff.
You weren’t just a kook, you were a stoner. Perhaps the two of you had something in common after all, maybe you weren’t this spoilt brat entirely.
🏹
“Pass me the goddamn lighter J!” You beckoned at the blonde, who held the red automatic match out of your reach. On instinct, you crossed your arms, and poured, causing the boy to laugh.
“Don’t do that, you look like a spoiled kook.” His words only earnt himself a glare, and so he reached down, plucked your blunt between his fingers, and lit it. He took a puff before placing it between your own lips. “Technically we just kissed.”
“Geez, I really am spoilt.” You rolled your eyes, as the pair of you stood out of the chateau, where it was the two of you alone. Everyone else was inside, watching a movie, and they didn’t want to get high off the fumes, instead they’d rather remember the ‘cinematic details’, as Pope put it.
“It was a joke Princess.” He rubbed your head, messing up your hair, but he knew that you didn’t care. Appearances weren’t your most entailed feature, you only dressed up to the nines to please your parents. But here, with him and the rest of your friends, you could be yourself. You weren’t a kook or a pogue, instead you were just y/n.
“You need to stop going on about kissing me Maybank, otherwise I might think that it’s something you actually want to do.” You smirked, noticing how his cheeks reddened slightly, and the normally confident male gulped.
“Well...” before he could say more, you lightly pushed him, but he soon grabbed you, and the blunt out of your mouth. “Maybe I do.”
“Maybe I want you to as well.” You flirted with him, eyes darting between where he was licking his lips, and the blunt that was gently held in the pads of his fingertips. “Tell you what, if I gift you with a kiss, I get my property back.”
“Princess you gotta stop that, you can’t call me your property, I’m a person too babes.” You groaned at that, he knew full well what you were speaking about, but he had to be a tease in every conversation that the pair of you had.
“Shut your mouth pogue.” Your words weren’t what shut him up, instead you grasped the fabric of his baggy, sleeveless shirt, and pulled his mouth to your own, your tongue instantly prying its way towards his own, breaking through the seal of his lips.
Distracted, he dropped the blunt, and cupped both sides of your face. He was in heaven, finally he had given into the kook, and vice versa. He was glad to have learnt your name, and everything that you had to offer.
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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years
Text
At the End of Your Rope (Jeff the Killer X F!Reader)
At the End of Your Rope
[Jeff the Killer X F!Reader]
[Warnings: heavy domestic abuse, violence, murder (not heavily described though), language]
[AN: This one's kinda heavy in some places. Take care of yourself first and foremost.]
It was rare that you had moments to yourself and even rarer when you found yourself enjoying those moments. Usually, you were tense, on edge, bitey and waiting to snap or invert back into yourself. That is what it does to you. It takes away, it destroys and it saps you of all your energy, your drive and your will.
No matter, that’s not what you’re supposed to be thinking about. You hum softly as you do the dishes, wondering how long this set of plates will last until he returns. You scrub hard at the bits still stuck to it, wondering how on earth he even managed to get this much filth plastered onto its surface - you made the meal, served it to him, you even took it back to the sink. Was he trying to key you off?
You took in a deep breath and scratched at its surface, only smiling softly when the piece finally dislodged from the blue floral design. You ran it under the sink, lukewarm water feeling alien against your skin as you continued to mindlessly rinse off the suds. As you began to stare off into space and by extension, the void, you found yourself remembering the times he used to bring you blue flowers at the beginning of every date.
A long time ago, when you were starry eyed about the world around you, he loved you deeply and truly. And it was the most strange of couplings, but they do say that opposites attract.
Last class of the day, what a relief. What wasn’t a relief was that it was chemistry. You’d never been particularly good at the subject, but you would often try your hardest and so far, throughout the year, had managed to coast by with a -B. It wasn’t perfect but it was good enough.
For the people around you who knew you better than that, they were more than surprised you hadn’t managed an A in the class just yet. You were the over achiever, the smart girl, the one who knew it all. But not in a cocky way, no, of course not. You were sweet, helpful and kind. That’s what spared you from how cruel teenagers can get - your aura was incredible and people would be absolutely dense to not like you. For the most part, you were quiet and only spoke to a few close friends.
Unfortunately for you, your last period chemistry class didn’t have any of your dear ones near. You sat in the middle of the classroom, attempting to take notes and kept your head down, honestly focused on the material when you heard laughter from the back of the classroom.
“Don't make me come back there,” your teacher said, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Do I need to split you up?”
“No, sorry Mrs. Haut,” a dark haired boy piped up.
Mrs. Haut rolled her eyes slightly before going back to writing on the chalkboard. She was talking about the electron configuration of atoms or something like that when the laughter picked back up again. Mrs. Haut sighed again before continuing writing. “One of you move up here by Miss Reader, another by Miss. Rhys, and another by Mr. Clarke.”
The three boys in the back verbally voice their distaste with their teacher’s decision but ultimately went along with it. You buried yourself in your notes even deeper when you realized just who it was sitting next to you. Usually, the person sitting next to you wouldn’t bother you, but the fact that this was by far the most disruptive person in the class had you a little flustered. You couldn’t afford skipping the notes or getting sidetracked especially with midterms coming up.
“You have a pen?” He asked quietly.
That made you pause. “Excuse me?”
“A pen..?” He repeated, albeit a little slowly, as to really get the point across.
You didn’t want to disrupt your teacher any further by the idle chit chat and quietly rummaged in your bag for a pen. Once your fingers grazed the object, you plopped it back onto the desk and got back to writing.
“Thanks,” he said.
Your eyes wandered from your notes over to him - and he smiled at you. Fighting back slight heat, you began scribbling down the notes with a nod as if to say ‘no problem.’
The lesson continued on for a little bit longer until you felt him gently poking your shoulder. You pried your eyes off of the board to give him the attention he so desperately craved. With an eyebrow raised, you asked him what was on his mind.
“What’s your name?” He asked softly.
You felt heat rush to your cheeks - how the hell did he miss your name? You were the only consistent question asker in this class! “... Reader,” you answered, eyes narrowed slightly at the fact he’d miss your name. Though, you do suppose what else could you expect from a class clown? “And what is your name?” You asked simply out of politeness.
His eyes widened in shock, and his face followed in suit. “You seriously don’t know?”
When you shook your head he gave a quiet, but exasperated groan and then flew into a tanger about who he was. The guy who set all those frogs loose last year, the same one who orchestrated turning all the furniture upside down, the guy who did donuts on the football field and the one who covered half the auditorium on elaborate post it notes art.
And unfortunately for you, none of those rang a bell. “I knew someone did it, but I didn’t know you were the one who did it.”
And that spirited yet another tangent from the boy sitting next to you. He went into painstaking detail about how he even got some of those things done, and you pretended to care, more so interested in the passion in his eyes than the actual content of the story. He was a surprisingly good storyteller! You hadn’t even realized the both of you had been chatting more than note taking when everything went dead silent. Much too silent.
“Miss Reader, I am more than disappointed in you,” Mrs. Haut said with another frown pulling on her red lips. “Both of you, detention.”
Your eyes widened in shock as she slapped down two pink slips on your shared table.
“Again?” The boy next to you asked incredulously, taking the note into his fingertips along with his bag in the other hand. “Mrs. H, this is like the second time this month!”
Mrs. Haut only shook her head and gestured towards the door, her shoe tapping impatiently on the ground.
“There’s only thirty more minutes left of class,” you said as you began to pack up your things. “I... “ Upon seeing your teacher’s tired expression,and not being one to directly challenge authority, you relented. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled before taking the slip into your grip and exiting her classroom. You took in a deep breath and trudged out of the classroom, wondering how you would explain to your parents your record had a spot on it when you exited the classroom and closed the door softly behind you.
“Do you know where the room is?” You posed your question to the resident class clown with a crestfallen expression.
“You’re actually planning on going?” He said it like it was a surprise.
“Uh, yeah? Where else would I be going?”
“I don’t know, but we can figure it out.” He smiled widely at you and plucked the pink slip from your hand.
“Wait what-? Give that back!” You cried out as quietly as you could to not disturb the other classes.
“C’mon, Princess, come and get it,” he teased. It didn’t sound like he had malice in his tone though.
You chased him through the hall attempting to get the slip back, narrowly avoiding the watchful gaze of hall monitors and the like when you found he had led you out to the parking lot. You didn’t have a car.
“Let’s go,” he beamed, scrunching up both of your pink slips in his hand before tossing them into the trash. “I wasn’t joking about figuring it out together.”
“I… But-”
“But nothing, Princess. Live a little.” He nodded for you to follow him, and you, feeling much too awkward to challenge someone, found yourself being led by him to his car. It wasn’t a fancy car, but it wasn’t near as run down as you expected it to be. It looked like he kept it relatively decent, and the scent was that of lemon. Whatever, live a little.
You slid into the passenger seat and put on your seatbelt as he became once again.
“Atta girl!” He chuckled as the car roared to life. He then flicked on the radio, turned up some music and the two of you left the school.
You can’t quite say you’ve ever had fun like that before. He took you to a diner, out bowling, you two snuck into a movie theatre then got smoothies before he dropped you off at home. And he was so sweet and kind throughout it all. He made you laugh, listened to you attentively, and over smoothies, he attempted to help you study a bit. It was moot, but it was nice that he even attempted.
That was what started a beautiful friendship that lasted throughout the rest of that academic year. Later, it blossomed into a relationship, and further, it transformed into marriage. The day he asked you to marry him was one of the best days of your entire life - and then, you were convinced you had met your soulmate. He was everything you’d ever wanted in a partner, and he was oh so helpful and attentive.
High school sweethearts was what you were referred to, and you both fit the image so well. You were practically glowing anytime anyone had seen you. Your marriage had happened too fast, but you were convinced he was your one and only unaware that growth comes in many forms. And in this specific case, the roots have burst the pot.
Back then, he used to give you flowers nearly every day in various shades of the rainbow. Blue seemed to be the preferred though.
“You always get these, why?” You had asked one evening, fingertips gently petting the soft petals.
“Apparently, they mean something poetic,” he replied before pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “That’s what the flower guy keeps telling me. And they’re kinda hard to find,” he continued, eyes looking out at the starry night sky the two of you laid under. “So, whenever they come in, I grab them tight and bring them back to my baby.”
You giggled slightly before shutting him off with a kiss.
They were damn near unattainable after the two of you had gotten married. It seemed they’d gone out of style, or perhaps they just weren’t thriving as they used to. One day, when you were lonely and missing your husband, you pulled out an old book on various flora and fauna. You must’ve spent hours upon hours learning about the area you lived in when you chanced upon a dash of blue.
Cornflowers, they were cornflowers.
The flowers on the plate you’d run under the faucet for far too long weren’t the same shade of blue, but they were just as pretty. It’s a shame that these plates would most likely be broken before the month was out.
Gods, when did he change? It was hard to pinpoint it because the two of you had been under each other’s spell for a good chunk of that time. When did he flip the switch? When did he… You shook your head and turned off the faucet, deciding you were done with the dishes for now. Accidentally, when you were placing the plate back in its place, you bumped your forearm on the counter. With a wince, you hissed and mentally reminded yourself to mind the bruises that were still fresh there. He gripped your wrist so hard that night you were sure it was going to snap right off.
He really wasn’t like this in the beginning and your mind raked constantly with reasons as to why when you laid awake at night hoping he wouldn’t go too far or burn a bridge only to find it needed to be rebuilt with supplies that no longer existed.
It was nearing the late evening and he wasn’t supposed to be home until later in the night. You could afford to relax for just a little longer. With a deep breath, you walked up the stairs dead set on drawing a bath to just let your mind go blank. Hidden away in the bathroom sink’s cabinet was a ‘mix’ of herbs and such a dear friend of yours had said would aid in relaxing your soul and maybe your wounds. You could only use the clumsy excuse for so long.
You opened the door to your bathroom, quietly shut it behind you and didn’t bother locking it. If he was here, you might have, but you weren’t expecting him back until much, much later. You could afford to breathe. You drew the faucet and let it run for a moment or two until the water got a little warmer, then you plugged the tub and let it fill. You crouched down and poked your hand around towards the back of the bathroom sink before finding the jar filled with herbs and salts. It smelled divine even when closed. Unscrewing the lid, you are able to take in the scent of lavender, chamomile, rosebuds, sweet lemongrass and vanilla. Pink sea salt for added effect made the bath look heavenly when you poured in a generous scoop. As the water heated the herbs, you notice the rosebuds blooming into large, pink and red flowers. It was nothing short of magickal and filled you with some type of serenity.
Once the water was to your liking, you stripped and got into the tub, sighing in contentment as the water heated your form up. And from there, you let your mind go blank and take in the aroma of the herbs and flowers. You feel the stress leaving your body. You wish you could feel like this forever.
You allow your brain to wander as you relax and find it going back to your husband every single time. If he wasn’t asked to sit next to you, would you have been in this awful situation now? This was no way to live - and you wondered if you had just gone to detention that day if things would be different, or perhaps better. You thought you were able to pinpoint when everything went wrong when yet another starting point would come into your mind. It was like your brain was purposely making you move the goalposts so you wouldn’t be retraumatized by anything all over again.
It started small and in little bouts. He lost his patience with you. If you accidentally burnt the pancakes? It was alright but don’t let it happen again. Over watered the petunias just once? Great, now he needed to go to the store and pick up some new ones should those suffer root rot that was relatively treatable. Couldn’t get dinner ready on time? What a mess. Said something slightly off base? Your intelligence was being actively questioned. It kept snowballing until it reached the first time he hit you. Which was a dark enough day that you rather not think about.
He said he loved you. That he would protect you and make sure you were safe from all harm. But he broke that the moment his hand slapped your face so hard you felt the air leave your lungs. That was a really dark day, but it was not the darkest yet.
You must’ve spent close to an hour in the bath when you heard the front door opening. Shit, he wasn’t supposed to be back. You feel your heart pounding as you leap out of the bath, quickly drying yourself before throwing your clothes back on. In your haste, you forget to unplug the bath. But it’s too late, you hear him coming up the stairs. Seconds later, he’s in your shared bedroom.
“Reader? Where are you?” He sounds exhausted. Upon seeing the bathroom door closed, he stalks up to it. “Reader? Open up, Princess.”
It’s not the first time he’s tried to soften the blow like this.
“I-I’m still in the tub-”
“Sure, sure, sweetie,” he hums. “Can you uh, tell me why you haven’t gotten any food ready if you were going to fuck around in the tub like this then?”
Your heart constricts and your stomach twists. “I didn’t know you were gonna be home this early,” you say softly, ready to brace the door.
“Oh you forgot,” he says as if he’s speculating whether that was a decent answer or not. “You forgot,” he repeats. He stands in front of the bathroom door, swaying slightly like he’s waiting for you to come to you. “Come out of the bathroom.”
“I just drew it-”
“Did I ask for your excuses?”
“No-”
“Then come out of the FUCKING BATHROOM!” He hits the door so hard you thought you heard it splintering.
“What the fuck are you doing?” You cried out as you immediately rammed against the door, struggling to keep your husband back from breaking it down.
He didn’t answer, only continued to rattle off about everything wrong. She kicked the door harder and harder, sending you bouncing against the wood. You continued to cry out in pain but dug your shoulder into the door as you prayed it would be enough to keep him out.
“Stop, stop, STOP IT!” You felt tears pour out from your eyes as your husband pounded the door. “You’re being crazy right now, stop it!” Your throat felt raw with anguish as you continued to screech, head coming dangerously close to bouncing against the door as your husband began kicking it.
Eventually, he succeeded. He backed up, reared his leg up and took three hard hits, successfully kicking the door down. You went flying down with it and tumbled down the tile floor with a yelp of pain, landing sharply on your hip. You looked up through your pain and saw he was standing before you, fists balled and nothing but rage in his eyes.
“I told you to fucking let me in,” he seethes as he narrows in on you. Before he can touch you, his eyes travel to the tub. “And now you’re clogging up my fucking pipes?” He asks in an exasperated tone as he feels his blood pressure rise. “You need to learn a lesson,” he sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair. “When dogs are just puppies and they have an accident,” he begins as he bends down to the ground and nears you as you struggle to crawl away from him. “You take their nose and bury it into their mess.” He finishes. He straddles your waist and sloughs off your weak attempts to get him off of you.
You continue to cry and scream, beg and plead as his hands snake up your arms and to your hair. And your eyes widen as he takes a fistfull and then roughly stands up, dragging your body up with him.
“You fucking dog,” he spits as he drags you upwards. He begins to drag you towards the tub.
“No, NO!” You plead as you dig your heels into the tile, trying to grip onto the sink for dear life as he continues to drag you. You feel your strands of hair damn near get lifted from your scalp as he continues to yank you. He’ll kill you if you don’t put up a fight. “I’m sorry! Gods, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Whatever I did to piss you off I promise that it won’t happen again!” You attempt to reason as he finally pries your hands off the sink.
“You should’ve known that to begin with,” he replies as he pulls your hair harder. He then brings you to the tub and roughly shoves you to its lip. You catch yourself and try to get away when he pushes at the back of your head. You still continue to fight him, crying and pleading even harder as your husband kicks in the back of your legs, attempting to cripple you further to get you to bend. You continue to push back, staring into the now cold bath like it’s a watery grave.
A scream rips through your throat as he hits the back of your skull, having you gasping for air and consciousness. He takes that moment as your weakness and finally overpowers you. Your head is thrust below the waters, and you find yourself screeching all the while. From above the water’s surface, you can hear your once beloved husband muttering about you and the faults of your character as he holds you under the water. Before you can even register that air is in your lungs again, you’re plunged back into the water, coughing and hacking all the while as he does so.
When he grows tired of continually plunging your head into the water, he picks up your lower half and tosses you in, sending the water and herbs flying everywhere as your clothed body enters the freezing tub. Your tears mix with the remnants of the bathwater as he holds you under, nothing but rage in his eyes as he does.
When you feel like it’s too much, you begin to let go. Perhaps darkness would be a nicer sight than the sunrise of tomorrow.
You open your eyes slowly to see that you’re still in the tub and laying in a small pool of water that isn’t enough to harm you regardless of how you were laid. You feel aches all over and you feel like water is weighing down your lungs. Slowly, you get to your bearings as you prop yourself up. Step by step and painstaking muscle movement by muscle movement, you stand and grip the edge of the tub, realizing you need to change out of your clothes. You pause momentarily to look at yourself in the mirror.
“Gods,” you whisper to yourself. You look like you were in a car accident. There’s bruises on your throat and your face from where he tried to slam you into the bathtub, and your face is puffy and discolored from crying. Your hair is knotted and you feel like no amount of conditioner on earth can get that out - to even think about detangling it is a nightmare. Your clothes are ripped and waterlogged. Everything about you screams pathetic. When you turn your head and look at the door, you see it’s broken beyond repair. He kicked it out of its latches and the wood itself is splintered in two.
You quietly step out of the bathroom, ready to change into drier clothes when you see your husband sitting at the edge of the bed, waiting for you. You feel yourself begin to shiver, momentarily feeling your mind drift elsewhere to protect your brain from further trauma.
“You’re finally up,” he says, a blank expression on his face. “Are you okay?”
You feel disgust come up in the back of your throat but swallow it back down in favor of not angering him further. “I’m fine,” you lie, not bothering to plaster on a smile.
“Good.” He slowly stands up. “I’m heading out. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” He holds his arms out to you.
Shivering and absolutely terrified, you find yourself bending to his will. Quietly, you pad across the carpet to him and allow yourself to be wrapped up in his arms. His arms feel like a metal cage as they wrap around your quivering form.
“I’m sorry,” he says emptily as he buries his nose into your hair. “It won’t happen again.” He sways the two of you side to side as he holds you a little tighter, not bothering to mind the bumps and bruises he inflicted on your body.
You internally sigh and hollowly nod, allowing him to hold you.
He said that the last time.
It’s been a few days since your husband flew off the handle like that. Your husband stayed in the house, but like every time before, he pretended nothing had happened and instead vied for avoiding you. In a day or so, he’d be back to pretending he still loved you. But, your mind wasn’t entirely on him coming back to you and acting sweet - it was on everything in between.
See, this isn’t the first time that something of this caliber has happened to you. Convenience was something that seemed to pop up in your life more often than not, and you’d just accepted it. The first time you could remember it was when you were in your garage, trying to have a moment alone after your husband had shoved you into a wall for not making the potatoes the way he wanted (what a stupid thing to be upset over). As you sat at the workbench, sobbing quietly, your attention was pulled towards a thing of antifreeze. It was just propped up there. You don’t remember buying it, nor did you remember your husband buying it either. Neither of you regularly did car maintenance, nor did it seem like the kind used for a pool (which neither of you had). What on earth was it even doing here?
You quietly picked up the bottle and tossed it before your husband came calling for you to redo the potatoes.
The second time you noticed something much too conveniently placed was when the coffee in front of you was decaf. Your husband was terrible at waking up in the mornings, and the only thing that kept him up was his morning coffee on the drive to work. Well, one morning it was decaf in the keurig- and you almost didn’t notice it. The last time that happened, he’d almost swerved off the road. In a panic, you switched it to the right one before he noticed. If neither of you did, it could have claimed his life as the drive from your neck of the woods to the city was kind of dodgy in general.
The third most prominent time was semi-recently. You were cooking and once you finished, carried about your day. When you stopped by the kitchen to grab your keys and head to town for some shopping, you noticed that the gas was left on. Your husband was due to come home soon - if it stayed on for any longer, it might have killed him. Of course, you turned it off, but your hand lingered on the dial just a moment longer, wondering what would have happened if you didn’t turn it off. Feeling monstrous for even letting that thought pop into your head, you pulled back your hand like you had thrown it into the fire.
Those were just some of the most prominent things that happened. There were also little things that occurred as well, such as the TV always being clicked onto certain types of true crime documentaries entailing warring spouses, or the reading material being a tad too detailed in how to get away with things that obviously weren't legal. It started with petty theft, or piracy, and then moved onto other things that were much too unpleasant for you to even detail. All of these things seemed to be calling you towards something more sinister than you had ever imagined.
And until now, you’d managed to hold it all back. Sure, you entertain yourself by watching the documentaries and reading the material (which you wonder deeply who put it in your mailbox to begin with) but you never actually thought to harm him, did you?
It all came to a head a few weeks after the bathtub incident. He pushed you around plenty since then, but it hadn’t crossed the threshold like what happened back then - and that was enough to keep you at bay until this specific dinner. Apparently, your husband had missed out on a promotion given to someone younger and more ambitious than him and that killed him on the inside. He had a chip on his shoulder and he was dead set on taking it out on you.
“Gave it to that little prick,” he mumbles as he stabs at his food.
“I’m sure you’ll get it next time-”
“Next time? That’s half a fucking year away,” your husband replies as he bites down on his food. “Worthless job and can’t even move up in it. Stuck in this hellhole,” he continues to mutter as he stabs around.
Not wanting to even think about flaring him, you just drink uncomfortably at your water. “Is…” You close your mouth, not wanting to even hear his voice.
“No, no, finish your thought,” he says with a deep sigh.
“It’s not important.”
“My wife has something to say, she says it.”
“No, really I-”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Reader, spit it out.”
“Is the food okay?” You ask quietly as you avert your eyes to anywhere but at him. You gulp thickly, worrying that you’ve upset him further and lament even opening your mouth up to begin with.
“It’s awful,” he replies before taking another bite. “You must really be testing me, y’know that?”
“I’m sorry,” you murmur.
“I know.”
Uncomfortable silence passes between the two of you as dinner goes on with that same unease. You practically exude discomfort as you sit there, picking at your food and not wanting to even stomach it as long as this monster sits across from you. You wonder if your husband is going to go on one of his tangents when he answers that useless question by opening his mouth.
He talks a lot about how much he hates work, his coworkers, his lot in life, literally anything he could complain about and everything. He has such a hatred for the world around him that you wonder if it was always hiding just below the surface when you first met him. Probably. People tend to grow into who they were always meant to be as the years go on.
“And you,” he continues, pointing his fork in an accusatory manner at you. “You are the worst part of it,” he says as he narrows his eyes. He does this to you at every meal. And by the end of it, he’s always so riled up he almost breaks the plates. “Remember that girl, Jada? From honors math?”
You quietly nod.
“I should’ve married her. Girl with some brains and a nice ass,” he muses. “Instead I settled for you. Worthless, bruised and battered, puffy faced you,” he says with absolute vitriol, getting more and more riled up as his complaints carry on. “Hell, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have been thrown in detention again either.”
“That wasn’t my fault-”
“Oh so she speaks, does she?” He stands up.
You brace yourself.
“You know better than that,” he says lowly like a tiger waiting to pounce. “Than to talk back to me in my OWN GODDAMN HOUSE!” The plates and the dinner go flying off the table as he roughly shoves his arms across it.
There go the plates that reminded you of something nicer.
You immediately stand up and gasp, your chair flying back as you do so. Your hands fly up as your husband’s hands grip ar your wrists, his power taking over your frail form as he begins hurling you backwards to the countertop.
“Teach you to talk to me like that again,” he growls as he slams you down onto the counter, wrists not being jostled into his one hand. “You’ll never learn,” he mumbles, strill wrangling you down to the countertop.
From the corner of your eye, you could see him reaching towards the knife rack - and you see your very life fly before your eyes as he palms one.
You begin to repeat no like a mantra as he grips the knife and then lets go of your wrists, hsi hand going to the collar of your shirt. You cry out as your hands balled into fists and start punching, your legs being held by his body as his hand latches onto your throat and squeezes. Tears prick your eyes once again as his eyes flick down to your shirt.
“Stop!” You weakly cry out as his fingers dig into your flesh.
He raises the knife, a mad look on his faze as the steel catches the light. It shines, and then comes plunging down.
You scream as the knife is stabbed much too close to your neck, instead trapping you by snagging your shirt to the counter.
“You stay here and think about all the trouble you’ve caused,” he says in a ‘bubbling with rage’ tone as he shoves your head into the counter. “And clean up this mess.”
Once he leaves and slammed the front door shut, you pry yourself free from the knife and then fall to the floor sobbing, once again feeling your heart broken over your husband treating you so. But, once the rain fell, all that came was a ping - a spark. As you finally composed yourself and began cleaning his mess, the spark ignited to a flame that grew like wildfire in your mind’s eyes as you gingerly picked up the pieces of plates that you held such saccharine fondness over.
You couldn’t stand for this anymore.
With exhaustion sweeping over your body and the kitchen now cleaned, you allow yourself to move on autopilot and move upwards towards your bedroom. You don’t bother changing and plop down onto it. You stare at your ceiling, wondering if you should run away or - oh! Here comes a thought. With your eyes inching towards your nightstand, you finally give into the overwhelming feeling to open the drawer and you do so. Your hand gropes around before you finally touch something cold. Your mind lurches once you realize what it is.
You sit up, more than surprised to see the handle of a gun under your fingertips. On it is a sticky note with a smiley face: ‘don’t forget to turn off the safety :)’. A shiver of horror runs down your spine when you realize there’s a silencer attached to it. Gods, you knew he had a gun but a silencer? Everything about this - you knew it was wrong.
But holding it in your hand… That felt right.
You decided to stay quiet on things for now and think. Afterall, he was stronger than you. You couldn’t just confront him with the gun. He might wrestle it out of you and shoot you instead. You couldn’t take that kind of risk right now. So, you waited, looked over the gun some more, and waited.
Your husband entered back into the house at some gods awful time at night, more than pleased to see the house was back in order as it should be as he closed the door behind him. He was exhausted on all facets (though it could not hold a candle to how you were feeling) as he trudged up the stairs.
You laid in bed, pretending to be asleep. You knew what had to be done.
When your husband came in, huffed and got ready for bed, you itched for the trigger. You knew you had to act soon, but not too fast or he could hurt you again an take you out instead. Your breath hitched when you felt him sit on the bed and get comfortable, of course, turned away from you.
You took in a deep breath, closed your eyes, and held the gun in your hand once you felt him slip into sleep. The moments felt like hours as you quietly sat up and held the gun in your hands. Were you really going to do this?
Your mind flashed with hundreds upon hundreds of possibilities. At one point, a long time ago, you loved him. You loved him deeply and truly.
You took aim.
You shot.
Gods, if you knew it was going to be this hard to drag his body out here, you would’ve chosen a different place to shoot him. Dragging your now dead husband through the woods behind your house was an absolutely miserable process. You were working up a sweat as you did so and it was so dark that you could hardly make heads or tails of anything.
Finally, guided by the moonlight, you came to a place that looked more than decent. It was far enough, and the growth here was so heavy that if you tumbled the earth around, it would hardly look like anyone had disturbed it to begin with.
“Always making things harder on me,” you mumble as you toss his limp body back to the earth before you juggle the shovel you’d dragged along into your hands. You let your mind go blank as you began to cut into the soil.
A plethora of thoughts entered into your head as you shoveled away, making a deep enough hole to throw your deceased husband in. In a way, you didn’t think he deserved a hole this nice, but you knew deep down you had to hide the body. You continued to shovel, and once you finally made it deep enough to your liking, rolled his body into the ground.
“Didn’t think you had it in you,” a low, slightly gravelly voice chuckles, slow clapping.
“Who’s there?” You ask in a slightly panicked tone, holding the shovel up like a weapon. “I… I won’t hesitate-”
“Don’t make me laugh,” the voice continues, a playful bite on every syllable. “No, no, you did good.”
Your eyes frantically look around for the voice when you hear a whistle. There, behind you, is a man. Possibly mid 20s, shoulder length black hair, pale skin that rivals the light of the moon, wearing a hoodie covered in things you’d rather not think of and taller than you by a good head or so.
“You gonna put the shovel down?” He asks with a brow raised.
Hesitantly, you lower the shovel in your grasp just to let him get a little closer. Your eyes widen when you see he’s cut a smile into his face. “Who… Who are you?”
“I’ll tell you if you finish your job here,” he says as he nods to the uncovered, deceased body of your husband. “And before you go through the typical ‘oh my gods, are you gonna turn me in’ bullshit so many of you seem to go through, rest assured that I’m not gonna do anything to you. Just finish your job. Can you do that for me, Bird?” He leans against the tree, looking at you with a small smark.
A mind too frazzled for anything else, you nod and get back to work. It doesn’t take near as long to fill the hole as it did to carve it out, which was a pleasant surprise. When you were done, you wiped the sweat from your brow.
“What are you doing here?” You asked as you held the shovel firmly in your hands.
“Checking in on you,” he replies. “You want to go back to your house and-”
“No,” you cut him off, eyes averting down the ground. “Anywhere but there right now.” You say softly, gesturing to the disturbed earth.
The man pops off the tree and stalks over to the hole you’d covered, lightly shoving some foliage on top of it. “Okay, still sensitive. I get that,” he hums. “Follow me then. Let’s take a walk.” He nods for you to follow, blue eyes silently telling you to bring the shovel along with you.
Not wanting to be near his body anymore despite it being packed below the ground, you relent and follow.
“So, you did good, really good,” the man says as he puts his hands back in his hoodie pockets.
“Why do you keep saying that?” You ask, quickly matching pace with him. “And I never did get your name..?” You trail off slightly, taking in the deep scent of the woods around you. The scent of pine and autumn fills your nose.
“Because you did my job for me, and it’s Jeff,” he replies, his arm momentarily pushing back some low hanging pines. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you for a while, Bird.” He chuckles softly when he sees your confused expression.
“Really? Bird?” You repeat in a dry tone, face deadpanning at the very mention of it. “Job?”
“You’re flighty, like a bird, and judging by how fast you switch topics, bird.” He smiles, continuing to lead you further and further into the woods and away from your now empty house. “Little while back, I was asked to kill your husband. But, I saw you during one of my stalking outings and well, thought I could make things interesting.” He says it like it’s nothing and common knowledge.
“You what?” You ask in a surprised tone. “You stalked us?”
“Well, yeah,” Jeff says. “Normally, I don’t take that much care in my work. I tend to gut first and never ask questions, but you posed something interesting in my wake.”
“Holy fuck,” you murmur as you continue to trot throguh the woods. “We’re both going to jail.”
“Me? Absolutely not. You? Well,” he turns his attention to the deer path laid before the two of you and smiles at the open, moonlit field. “Depends on how you’ll answer my question.”
The two of you step through the remaining brush and finally reach the field. You had no idea this place was even behind your house or even so close. Tall grass rising to your waist sways gently in the wind as you step out of the trees and into the open air. Stars dot the sky as the moon hangs overhead. This place feels nostalgic. Out in the distance is a little stone structure, and upon Jeff taking you closer to it, it’s a little stone shelter.
“Take a seat, gonna be a while,” Jeff says as he rummages around in his pocket. He pulls out a lighter, bends down and lights the pieces of wood conveniently left inside of it, and the night is no longer cold.
You get comfortable and let your exhausted body rest. “Have you been watching me for long?”
“Longer than necessary,” Jeff answers as he cracks his back before finally getting comfortable. “But, I only watched you from a distance. Tell me about yourself first, let me know it wasn’t a mistake to let you breathe.” He smirks at you and winks, sending shivers down your spine.
You take in a deep breath, not really feeling anything but exhaustion and decide to tell him. You tell him everything, about your childhood, about little intricacies and so on. You told him about high school and how you met your husband. Little stories, anecdotes, memories and feelings resurfaced as you detailed how everything was bliss. And then one day, it wasn’t.
“Something in him snapped and went rotten,” you sigh. “And he hurt me. Hurt me really bad.”
Jeff looks up from the fire to see how the light dances across your skin. It’s here that he’s finally able to see the extent of your dead husband’s power over you. Bruises darker than your natural shade line your skin like oddly erased marks on a stubborn piece of paper. Your eyes are hollow, devoid of all life. Hair from your scalp is oddly placed as if it’s still trying to grow back. Your posture conveys nothing but pure exhaustion.
“I’m sorry,” he says in a tone that’s much more gruff than he originally means. It’s not that he doesn’t genuinely feel bad, it’s that he’s awful at actually verbalizing it. In truth, Jeff doesn’t like abusers. They make him feel wrong, make him feel like something’s not fair. Jeff like to fancy himself as someone who goes by the rule of ‘equality.’ If you pick on someone weaker than you with them having no chance of fighting back or at least inflicting the same damage back, you are nothing but a coward who gets off on hurting smaller people. And that in his mind is nothing short of detestable. “Guess good on me for letting you take him out, huh?”
You look at him with an odd mixture of confusion and absolute relief. “I guess,” you say, the sound of serenity slipping into your tone. “And what about you? What originally sent you out here?”
“Tall guy in a suit,” he stated, a small scowl pulling at his lips. “Y’know, he’s interested in you.”
“Tall guy in a suit?”
“Slender Man. I call him ‘Pale Ass’ though. He’s like… A murderous businessman. Has little drones to do his work even though he’s more than capable of doing it himself. And that’s where you come in.” Jeff shifts slightly and fixes his posture. “He’s the guy who originally wanted your husband dead. Sent me to do it.”
“Why did he want him dead?” You inquire. You knew your husband had done some dodgy things, especially with how strangely he was acting within the last few years as his abuse ran up, but you originally assumed he was cheating or something. Maybe into some other shady things. What on earth could he have done to garner the attention of some murderer kingpin?
“Saw something he shouldn’t have. My guess is Toby - maybe Theo. Both of them suck at covering up their tracks,” Jeff laughs slightly. “Probably saw one of us hiding a body, committing a murder, shit, he could’ve stumbled on some finals when he obviously shouldn’t have done that. Regardless, it got Slender’s attention, and now he’s dead because of it,” Jeff continues as he casts his eyes from you to the flickering flames. “You remember that night he fell asleep in his car in the garage?”
You nod.
“Almost took him out right there.” Jeff’s brows furrow slightly. “Something stopped me and then I saw you. The way he reacted to you asking if he wanted a certain type of potato made me giggle, and then I got a thought.”
“The antifreeze…”
“Yeah, the antifreeze. I’d noticed you were being pushed around for a while, honestly planning on taking you out to give you some rest but,” his eyes flash, “seemed more fun to get you into it too.” He sighs and leans back. “Was it cathartic?”
You find yourself uncomfortably shifting and wanting to answer with ‘no, of course not! I killed someone,’ before realizing that wouldn't be truthful. It was cathartic to put an end to his life. It was cathartic to finally bring justice for yourself in a way that no prison system would allow. “It… It was.” You admit, shyly and quietly like confessing to a bad secret.
“Feels nice to admit it, right?” He smiles.
“It does.”
“Now, imagine doing that to other pieces of shit,” he says as he sits up again. “Imagine being able to do that to every monster that’s ever hurt anyone just like you/”
You close your eyes and feel the red hot rage tingle your fingertips. Being able to unload on your dead husband was more than pleasing - in fact, it was nice, and dare you say, fun. The thought of being able to do that to other people who hurt others like that, while a far off possibility now as you were still frail, was still a possibility nonetheless.
“I mean, where else do you have to go?” Jeff continues, watching as you toss the thought around in your head. “You’d never get caught. He’d handle it all right now. You’d be free.” Jeff stands up and begins crossing the distance to meet you. His shadow walks alongside him. Dusk hangs in the air. “Or, if this isn’t to your liking, you can join him.”
“What?” You question, eyes flicking up from Jeff’s shoes to his eyes.
“You gotta understand,” he begins as he crouches in front of you. “If you say no and
decide to deal with the fallout like a normal human being, you’ll be caught and most likely killed for it. You’d be at the end of your rope.”
You feel an ocean of emotions swell up inside of you. “And if I… What would you even have me do if I followed you?”
“I’ll take you to meet him, and we’ll see what happens next. He’ll cover for you. You won’t ever have to see this place ever again.”
The sun begins to peek over the horizon. The fire is dying down. You can hear birds chirping in the early morning sky as fluffy clouds bid good morning to the dimming stars in the sky.
“Let’s get outta here, Bird.” Jeff stands up, holding out his hand.
You take in a deep breath, hand hovering over his. You thought of your husband, your life and everything that had ever happened to lead up to this moment. You’d gone this far, and there was clearly no going back. Another deep breath in and you pressed your hand down to his.
Jeff’s smile bloomed once again.
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marvelsbetch · 3 years
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Peter Parker’s field trip. Part 1
Warnings: Trans!Peter, Spidypool, sex references, superfamily, transphobia, supportive avengers
Tony POV
I was in my lab waiting for Peter, my newly adopted son, to come home from school when Friday told me I had an email from Peters school. Turning to my phone I opened the email and was completely annoyed. The email read
'Dear Parent/Carer of Patricia Parker,
We are delighted to inform you that we have a surprise field trip for the student to none other than Stark Laboratories. The trip with be a residential starting on March 7th with a trip to Stark Tower, staying the night there with Mr Tony Stark-Rodgers and then having a trip to the Avengers Tower where we will have the opportunity to meet the Avengers and ask them questions. This is a once in a life time opportunity and we hope you allow your daughter to attend. Also, we would like to keep the trip as a surprise for the student so we urge you not to tell them the destinations of the trip.
Yours Sincerely,
Mrs Robbins.'
I was livid. My child Peter is a boy. I do not have a daughter I have a son. I couldn't believe the nerve of this teacher so I stormed out of my lab and in to the main living area of the penthouse and saw my handsome husband lay on the couch watching tv. He looked so calm and collected but I feel this might change.
"Honey, I just got this email from Peters school that I think you should have a look at." I told him handing him my phone.
He looked confused at first but then the anger set in and by time my phone was placed back in my hand he had an evil smirk on his face. I had an idea of why he had that smirk but just to be sure I asked him,
"What's the smirk for?" I asked.
"Tell the teacher our son can go on the trip while I make a few phone calls. Nobody purposely misgenders my son and gets away with it." He is trusted before grabbing his cell phone and walking down the corridor to one of the training room. Probably going to blow off a little steam and anger. Might watch in a little while.
After a second I simply responded to the email stating'
I as Peters legal guardian allow my son to attend this field trip. Is there any additional information that we should be aware of?' It seemed like the appropriate response.
In all honesty I had Pepper invite the school to the towers as a reward for how well they did at the decathlon competition. I was not expecting to receive an email like this.
-5 hours later-
Peter arrived home shortly after the email incident and was greeted to everyone being in the room. Everyone being Me, Cap, Bucky, Nat, Banner, Pepper, Sam, T'Challa, Shuri, Rhodey, Wanda, Vision, Thor, Loki, Clint and Strange along with the Guardians on a Skype call on the tv. We told him it was a spur of the moment gathering as well all missed each other, not an entire lie, but in reality we were plotting to a) embarrass Peter as much as possible on the field trip and b) get back at the teacher for what they did.
We decided to order enough pizza for an entire 3rd world country and discuss Peter's school life as we ate.
"So Peter, has anyone been giving you trouble lately in School? You can tell us the truth." Steve, Peter's other father and my husband, asked.
"No everything just fine." He terribly lied.
"Come on kid. I've known you for almost two years now, don't try and lie. If there's anyone giving you any type of shit for whatever reason please know that you can tell us." I explained to him all of a sudden getting very serious. I could see him fighting with himself on weather to tell us something or not but decided not to as he then said he had homework to do and went to his room.
"So, he's either lying or the teacher isn't as bad as we think." Loki observed.
"No, he was lying. I could feel his conflict and pain in remembrance of what people have said to him. I'm not one for violence but someone needs to pay for what he's been dealing with." Wanda told us with tears in her eyes.
Cap and Barton walked over to comfort her and hopefully stop her crying. My blood started boiling, Wanda was a strong person and if what Peter's going through brings her to tears then that's a lot for one person to go through. What else has this teacher or student done? Why won't he tell us? Does he not trust us? That last question broke my heart.
"Baby, you okay?" I hear Steve ask moving towards me and holding both my hands in his.
"No. I'm pissed. I'm pissed at any one who hurt my son. I'm pissed at us for not making sure he knows he can talk to us. And I'm pissed at the world for making his go through all of this." I told him with tears coming to my eyes.
Steve pulled me close to my chest and held me tight. He stroked his hands through my hair as he tried to calm me down. I could tell he was mad to, we all were, but he was trying to hold it in despite everyone being here to essentially punish this teacher was his idea. Embarrassing Peter was mine.
"Right, so what do we do about this? I'm not letting anyone hurt my nephew and get away with it." Nat said sitting up and pulling a knife from who knows where to sharped her nails. That women scares me so much.
"How about we just drop in during the day and make sure one of us is always with him. If he has one of us always there and we make it apparent that we know and support him the I doubt even someone as bigoted as his teacher is going to say something. Then we can embarrass him when we're with him." Sam suggested.
"I like that. Where are we all going to be stationed?" Loki asked.
"Well if I speak to the tour guide I could get Banner to give them a lesson on Gamma radiation as the first. Then, Barton or somebody drops in. After that they will be taken to a different lab with Shuri and T'Challa. By that time it should be lunch where Thor and Loki could drop in and the guardians land near the level 7 outside cafeteria. Then we can have Sam drop some stuff from above like a water balloon or something and Bucky bake his favourite cookies to bring to him. After Lunch they're looking around some other labs where Shuri could also be along with Banner. I think they're also going to be visiting the training rooms so Nat, Cap, Bucky and T'Challa could be fighting and Wanda, Vision and Strange could be training their magic." I suggested feeling better now that we were planning this.
March 6th
-Peter's POV-
I was in Chemistry faintly heading the teacher, Mrs Robbins, drone on and on about ionic bonding and how it differs to covalent bonding. It was something I already knew so I didn't need to listen until Ned started hitting my arm. Turning to look at him he simply nodded to the direction of the teacher. I turned around just to catch two words that made my heart drop.
"-Field trip!" Our teacher cheered with a big smile on her face.
Field trip? To where and why?
"That's right, we have organised a surprise field trip for you all as a reward for how well you've all done on your recent exams. Only the top 20 student of the entire school will have the privilege of going. The destination will be a surprise but I will say to bring an overnight bag and money for food and such. You're parents have already got an email consenting for your attendance and the bus will be leaving at 8am tomorrow so don't be late." She further explained.
The whole surprise field trip thing made me nervous beyond all belief. I may not technically be a Parker anymore but the luck definitely followed me and the idea of having to go on an overnight field trip made me terrified. Also, our parents got an email. This means that either Dad (Tony) or Pops (Steve) knew about this probably weeks ago and didn't tell me, this only fulled my anxiety.
Soon the bell went signalling the end of the day and our temporary liberation from this educational prison. On the way out Mrs Robins pulled me aside. It confused me at first until she put our most recent test infront of me. My name circled in big red circles, I know what's about to happen.
"Patricia, you must stop this. You're name is not Peter, you're not a boy. You were born a girl and therefore are, there is no picking and choosing with what God gave you. You must understand this by now. This little joke has gone too far that you're name has been requested to change on our register. Get it through you're head that you are not a boy and you will go to hell for thinking otherwise. One more incident like this and you'll have detention for the rest of the year. Got it?" She basically shouted at me pointing to my circled name on the test.
"No. My name is Peter and I am a boy, I don't care what God assigned me because he got it wrong. I am a boy and my name is Peter as we have gotten it legally changed." I rebutted getting impatient with her ignorance.
"Don't speak to me like that young man. You have no right to change Gods idea and destiny for you. Just thing, you're a girl meaning you can have kids and spread God's message to others and have many kids. Just what God planned for all women." She told me trying to sound sweet but came off and incredibly patronising.
At this point I was too angry to listen to her bulls**t (Gotta keep it Steve friendly people) so I stormed out the room. She started yelling for me to come back to the classroom but I didn't listen and continued walking till I reached the car Happy was in to take me home.
I got in the car and started telling Happy about my day while playing classic songs on my phone such as Highway to Hell, You gave love a bad name and Living on a Prayer. He pretended like he didn't care but I could tell he was listening and hanging onto every word I was saying. I love that about Happy, he acts like he doesn't care but in reality he does and he does a lot. He once caught Flash saying stuff about me and threatened to hit him with the car, he almost did as well but we were running late to a meeting I had to go to with Dad. Of course that didn't stop Flash as he still likes to torment me daily but he now does it more secretly making it more bearable.
We soon made it home and I found all of my dysfunctional family,minus the guardians who were on a Skype call, sat in the living room watching a movie on the tv. I quickly set my bag down on the kitchen island and settled right next to Tony (Dad) who was cuddling Cap (Pops). Everyone was asking me questions about my day and school life in general. They focused mostly on if people were bullying on me. It worried me a little because as much as I know I can go to them, I don't want to because I know that if I tell them everything that's happened they'll kill people and I don't want that for my family. Half of them only just got pardoned and I don't want the governments to revoke that.
"Sorry guys but I got homework. The pizza was delicious, is it okay if I invite Wade around?" I pleaded with Pops knowing he's more likely to say yes.
"Yes but that door stays open hound man. Do I make myself clear?" Pops asked in a stern voice.
"Crystal." I responded before taking out my phone to call Wade, grabbed my bag and walked to my room.
"Hey Baby Boy, what's up?" Wade asked after picking up his phone.
"Not much, Pops said you could come around." I told him making him slightly squeal.
"Okay Baby Boy, I'll be there in 10 minutes. I love you." Wade informed.
"I love you to Babe." I said before hanging up with a smile on my face.
-10 minutes later-
I was sat at my desk finishing my algebra homework when I heard someone knock on the window. Knowing it was Wade I turned with a smile on my face and let him in.
"Hey Baby Boy, how was your day?" Wade asked making himself comfortable on my bed.
"It was fine, quite boring if I'm honest. We did get told about this residential field trip tomorrow though. Sorry I won't be here for most of the weekend. I'm sure my Dads will love having you around." I joked sitting on his lap and cuddling into his chest.
"It's fine Pete. I'll just have to savour our time together now." He said wiggling his eyebrows and kissing me passionately.
"My Pops said to keep the door open." I told him pulling away with a massive blush spread across my cheeks.
"Does that rule apply to your en-suite?" Wade asked.
"I don't believe so." I answered getting up from his lap and dragging him into my en-suite, which is where we stayed for the rest of the night.
To be continued...
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it wasn’t power i coveted; it was acceptance.
Titans 3.06
y’know, i was just thinking the other day that 1.06/1.07 and 2.06/2.07 were the best episodes of their respective seasons, so i have great hopes going in to this one. fingers crossed!
as always, typing this up as i see the episode.
SPOILERS AHEAD
1. oh! um... that was a Cold Open, all right. *nudges* get it? cold? because it’s snowing? and two people got murdered in cold blood? eh?
... oh, i’ve just started.
1.5. i wonder if “i want to be sipping pina coladas on a beach with you” is the new “i’m just one day away from retiring.” i was so on edge after that--i kept expecting that car to explode. even so, the way they died wasn’t an anticlimax: brutal, and quick. 
1.75. so i’m assuming that’s the titular lady vic! this show better bring up why this doll was important or why these two cops needed to be killed, and not leave it to the ether like jericho’s little mindscape jaunt in 2.08 (i’m still dying to know what that was about???)
2.
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i love how deliberately unappealing wayne manor is. 
(sorry for the pic quality. i don’t have hbo max! ssshhh.)
2.3. i love the many references to “home” and “our house” when they’ve been here for less than a week and saw one of their friends get blown into pieces. i mean, i unironically love it: home is where family is, after all!
2.5. i’d like to say that kom is playing some sort of long game here, especially given the build-up we had last season and some of the more niggling details this season: why did kom choose now to use her bond to lure kory when she’s been on earth for months? why did justin call kory now, just around the time that she started getting kom’s visions? and what about kom’s ability to exactly imitate other people? hmmm.
2.75. the reason i wrote i’d like to say is that i’ve made the mistake of assuming plot complexity where there is none; i was so invested in the jason todd orchestrated his own death theory for instance, when it turns out that oops! ra’s al ghul just happened to leave a little lazarus puddle in gotham, and oh yeah! scarecrow just happens to have a network of henchmen working for him on the outside and a fully functional laboratory and a weapons cache fit for a new supervillain in the basement of the high security psychiatric unit/prison that he’s in! 
(no i’m not bitter, why do you ask)
2.8. iiiii don’t know what to say about the implications of sex slavery being a thing on tamaran, so i’m not going to say anything at all. for now.
3. gotham, six years ago... wasn’t it five years before s2 that jericho died and the titans disbanded? and when was the flashback from 1.06 where dick let zucco die? i think it was after the events of 2.08: jericho? i can’t seem to find any transcripts or reliable information online, so i’m going to have to rewatch 1.06 at some point. 
(i love the old-fashioned batman music in this heist scene)
3.5. “security is a joke... it’s my way of keeping my dad on his toes”. what you’re an ethical thief now, like an ethical hacker? i don’t think that excuse is going to sell, barbara, on the day you do encounter a decent security system and your father is forced to arrest you.
(then again, gotham’s security is piss-poor. did you know that you could just walk into arkham asylum without any official clearance, ply one of its most dangerous inhabitants with contraband, and said inmate could get away with having an entire laboratory and weapons cache--NO I’M NOT GOING TO LET THIS GO)
3.8 so that flashback between dick and barbara was really cute! and also illuminating:
a) dick sounds so light, so... um. look. i have some apologies to tender to mr thwaites, because while i’ve always thought he does a fine job as dick grayson, i’ve never been terribly fond of his cadence as he delivers dialogue. it’s often monotonous, i thought, but then again, he’s usually delivering exposition or dealing with one soul-crushing crisis or the other. so i was pleasantly surprised to hear dick sound so carefree and alive in his conversation with barbara, laughing frequently, his emotions so bare and bubbling to the surface. it’s really a fantastic contrast to the traumatised and world-weary dick grayson that we see now, even more so than the costume department just bunging a backwards-baseball cap on mr thwaites’ head and hoping that will convince us of his relative youth. 
b) and god, when he wakes up from that memory, all alone in his bed, bleeding from bullet holes in his shoulder (bullet holes that are--in a somewhat convoluted way--barbara’s fault)? yikes. it’s great. you have my apologies, mr thwaites!
c) can you imagine dick just... crawling back to wayne manor, trying not to be seen by anybody, shedding his suit and just... collapsing onto his bed without even tending to his wound? the sheer emotional and physical exhaustion of it? 
d) it’s so interesting to see how barbara and dick approach the idea of legacy--a big theme on the show!--in this flashback. barbara is the one bucking the idea that she should follow in her father’s footsteps, while dick seems pretty content with the batman-and-robin setup, and even tries to get barbara to join their team (robin-girl. pfffft). obviously after this several traumatic things happen wherein dick ends up questioning and then resenting his role as robin, his relationship with batman or even returning as a vigilante at all. and barbara... ends up replacing her father as commissioner. it’s tragic, really. 
e) the dynamic between dick and barbara in the flashback reminds me of how it was between dick and donna in 1.08 and even between kory and dick in early s1. it’s like having an older, strong-willed woman by his side means he gives over the steering wheel for a while and lets himself... unspool, a little bit. it’s kinda endearing.
also:
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*pinches his cheeks*
3. you know, we talk about dick and Eldest Daughter Syndrome, and that’s definitely valid, but here gar seems to me the embodiment of it, with all the emotional gardening and firefighting that he’s expected to do. he’s kind of the guy expected to keep his shit together and take care of everyone else while they are falling completely to pieces, unable to carve out time to process his own trauma. he’s also picked up dick’s and kory’s tendencies to bottle up their struggles and shun appearing vulnerable, and he’s struggling in the shadow of both dick and kory undergoing acute crises, his best friend (and frequent confidante) on the other side of the world, and seeing hank die, utterly helpless to stop it. 
i’m glad that he got a chance to tell dick even a smidgeon of what he really feels, and i hope this is at least a semblance of a wake up call for dick to actually sit down and work with the people he repeatedly calls family.
3.5. it’s heartening to see that dick immediately makes it his priority to go talk to gar. but don’t blow off kory in the process, man!
4. i’m really loving this dynamic between kom and conner--i get the idea that both of them consider each other as Unknowns, alien two times over. but conner’s only ever known the titans, who embrace being different, and kom’s only ever known... well. 
anyway, kory is Really Stressed, and honestly? #relatable. 
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when you’re forced to bring an estranged family member to hang out with your friends...
4.5. i love that the titans are spending so much time in the kitchen. a real family!
5. jonathan crane is a creep and i absolutely cannot stand him.
5.25. how did he get a whole lab setup (in the basement of a hospital...?) with a bunch of whitecoats to work for him? how did he just waltz into the viewing room of an operation theatre when he’s one of the most wanted men in gotham right now? why is jason wandering around maskless when--presumably--as the adopted son of the most famous person in gotham he’d be a tad more recognisable than your average joe?
why do i expect this show to answer anything anymore?
5.5. that’s not necessarily a criticism, mind; i’ve said since season 1 that titans is very comics-like in this aspect, all about the Aesthetic and the splash-page splendour rather than the niggling unimportant details of how or when the characters got to said location. like. the camera gliding over the operation being set-up, lady vic bursting in and doing her murder dance (imagine the luck of the poor intern who chose this day and this surgery to assist) and jason, shocked and slack-jawed, framed by blood.
5.75. it’s a sobering reminder for jason that, though he chose this path in order to gain control over a world that seemed like it was rapidly spinning out of his grip, he’s only succeeded in handing over even more control to a man with an agenda that is very clearly not aligned with his own. he’s in too far to stop now, though.
5.9. i have a lot more thoughts about jason! saving it up for the end of this recap, though.
6. more kitchen time! i better see dick do some cooking soon...
(”our kitchen”! it still delights me! kitchens are So Important)
6.25. so much of dick’s issues have revolved around his relationship with bruce, so it’s completely understandable that in the wake of a huge crisis where bruce literally asks dick to replace him and be a “better” him, dick would default to all the worst things he learned from the man. and i’m glad kory’s having none of it, but come on, guys. the woman’s literally fetched her fratricidal sister out of a hole in the ground with no idea what said sister is going to do next and experiencing a burgeoning sense of guilt far, far beyond her history with the titans, and dick’s too far into his autocolonoscopy that he can’t see that she needs help.
6.5. “he services your urges”--well, as far as we know, kory is the last person he had sex with...
7. “i hope [gar] isn’t angry with me...” SIR! i thought you’d already spoken to him! smh, as the kids say. kory wouldn’t be needing to reassure you if you just took the effort to build two way emotional relationships with the rest of the team. @superohclair​ was taking about dick’s relatively low emotional intelligence? i agree.
7.5. “i got my own problems [...] you and barbara? fix it.” YOU TELL HIM, KORY
8. man i really like this weird, sad tension between dick and barbara--this sense that both of them are approaching the other based on how they remember them and are ultimately disappointed by the truth. barbara thought she could trust dick to... well, be a better batman, but dick has not only failed at that in her eyes, but repeatedly undermined her while exploiting the authority that she gave him. in dick’s eyes, this is nothing like the barbara that he knew, rebellious and ready to do whatever it takes to find something. 
like. this show sometimes really hits me in the chest about the ways it shows kids grow into adults and into caretakers, and the way it’s stop-start, the ways nothing can happen at all for a long time and then it’s Crisis Central all at once and there’s no space to breathe. the weird sort of sadness that comes with nostalgia. 
8.5. oracle name drop! i agree with barbara, any system that can just randomly tap into gotham phonelines is a monster.
8.7. (i don’t know if it’s my imagination, but is dick holding himself... differently in this episode? like that wound is definitely bothering him, and he’s running on fumes)
9. man, that was a really sweet scene between kom and conner. “feeling alien in your own world”... “not quite here nor there”
honestly this team runs on conner and gar’s faith in their value as a family, and it’s a sign of conner’s generous heart that he extends that opportunity to blackfire. this arc of maturation for him, where he’s now able to consciously choose which parts of himself he can use to do the thing he wants to so--save people--has been so fulfilling to recognise. this baby’s grown with the titans! and what he’s learnt is that people can get fucked up, but the titans is a place where they can be fucked up, and grow.
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MY MAN CONNER
10. oh man i’m drinking in the gar-dick interaction in this episode like i’m three days into the desert and it’s the only source of water for miles around!
a) gar is absolutely not dealing with dick’s bullshit this episode and I LOVE IT. it’s such a far cry from the man who was idolising dick/robin back in s1 and expecting him to solve all their problems. dick is fallible, dick is fucked up, but he Tries His Best and that’s ok.
b) dick, huffing and puffing through that vent, unable to put any pressure on his left shoulder, trying to have a heart to heart with gar... fuck i love this asshole. 
c) bruce took in a kid who was suffering... “and made him into a weapon”. well. i absolutely agree with dick that it was bruce who put these kids into these horrible situations with him and they came away with a bucketload of trauma to add to the one that they already had. but we know that bruce was really trying with jason, and at the end of s2, dick was coming to acknowledge that bruce had offered him something that wasn’t just darkness. jason’s death and bruce’s reaction to that shattered that fragile progress.
d) “gotham got to me too.” i feel more sympathetic towards dick running off on his own than most, and it’s not just because i’m an unapologetic stan.  we’ve seen before that dick... devolves when overwhelmed, and he lashes out and makes ill thought out decisions and just Does Not Deal. it happened after hearing the news that deathstroke had returned in s2, and it didn’t help that everyone around him was reeling at the news, either. this time, however, he has his salvation in his family, and despite some stupid decisions like running off and kidnapping supervillains without telling his team, he’s been really on the ball this season. thinking clearly and logically, holding it together and working on a plan, thinking two steps ahead of the villains... yes.
e) gar needing to believe that jason isn’t beyond redemption... there’s a lot of blood on his hands, too, from when he was manipulated by cadmus last season. it makes sense why he’d relate to jason’s predicament, and i hope dick picked up on that.
f) my head just added a plaintive ow after dick jumped feet first into the storage room
i need, crave gifs of this scene!
11. *sits on hands* i’m going to talk more about red hood, i promise!
12. more gar and dick! is it my birthday??!!
(actually, according to the tamil calendar, it is my birthday! my “star” birthday)
12.5. excellent. dick using some implausible training that bruce taught him to solve a mystery? passing some of that knowledge onto gar? that proud smile when he sees gar perfectly execute moves that he taught him? MY HEART IS EXPLODING
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13. aw, i love flashback!dick and barbara, they’re so cute <3
13.25. why does it not surprise me that the way he proposes a relationship to barbara is by saying “we make sense”? this guy can deduce exactly who was present where and what weapon they were holding from a garbled audio recording but other times he’s utterly clueless, and that’s a consistent character beat right from s1
13.5. so.... that’s why lady vic has it out for... barbara....? i don’t get it. it’s flimsy. but hey! the fun thing about titans is that i don’t have to get it. the payoff has nothing to do with the plot.
14. i can’t believe that barbara fell for that, but at least that wheelchair fight looked awesome, so.
15. oh yeah, i forgot that red hood bullied the mob into helping him and scarecrow... at least that explains the whitecoats and the elaborate set-up.
15.5. honestly i love how this dynamic between kory and kom is developing, though i wish more of the team would pay attention to it. time to call justin, i think!
16. i wonder what happened after that second flashback where barbara got hurt during that heist. did she give up on doing any more (maybe jim caught her)? was it because dick was called away by bruce and then the titans and got caught up in his own issues? maybe barbara froze him out because she wasn’t looking for the relationship that he was looking for? maybe the idea of doing that with someone turning into batman-lite was just... unappealing? scary?
whatever it is, it doesn’t look like dick ever processed the end of that relationship. it’s very intriguing to see where their dynamic goes next.
17. so.... what, did vic deliver some fear toxin to barbara? i... what?
17.5. and i TOLD YOU that they would never explain that doll or why vic attacked those two cops at the beginning! oh, titans. never change. 
18. did jason just randomly have tim’s restaurant burgled? god, i’m feeling a bit nauseous... are they going to kill tim’s father?
18.25. i feel like the rest of the season is going to wrestle with jason’s culpability in the horrible stuff he’s doing and i’m already seeing that prospect divide fans. on one hand, his story is taking a lot of oxygen away from other equally interesting story arcs, and he’s done some truly awful things, like indiscriminate murder, threatening to kill children, blowing up hank, and potentially killing tim’s parents. 
there’s something to be said for the kind of hold that crane has over him, and the so-called ‘anti-fear’ drug that he keeps plying jason with--he’s alone, drugged almost constantly (to the level of dependence), fresh from the trauma of being bludgeoned to death. he hasn’t conquered fear; he’s ruled by it. on the other hand, given that he’s the one character on the show given an obvious and identifiable ‘mental illness’ arc (maaaaybe dick too), one can argue that it’s irresponsible to show this progress into such violence: jason was vulnerable because he was struggling, and that left him vulnerable, but it took only a push before he became a fucking serial killer.
but that could mean we underestimate the degree of that vulnerability, and the mechanics of this universe where he fell into the clutches of the one supervillain perfectly designed to exploit that vulnerability. that helpless spiral into further and further self-destruction is all too real. it’s valuable to know that someone who has sunk that low can still seek help--actual help--and get it. 
18.5. i don’t know. it’s not a question i’m going to resolve at the end of an overlong recap at 1 in the morning. i don’t believe it’s even a question that titans can resolve. but i am interested in where they’re going next with jason.
19. this episode was genuinely great! i’m pumped for the rest of the season!
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whatifxwereyou · 3 years
Text
Ashes Chapter 13: Perception
Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021
Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader
A/N: Maybe it's inevitable. Definitely cried like an adult while writing parts of this. I'm a weepy baby. I hope you imagine an ugly MySpace style sparkly gif every time Y/N uses the word "kidnapping". As always, appreciate you guys <3
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Buzz.
You peeked one eye open and caught sight of the smart phone dancing around on the nightstand close by. Strong arms were wrapped around you and there was no mistaking who they belonged to this time. Liu. You’d fallen asleep next to each other and somewhere along the line, in unconsciousness, he’d cuddled against you.
This was fine.
This was all fine.
The phone continued to dance and nearly vibrated right off the edge of the nightstand and onto the floor. You grabbed it from its place near the edge and wiped your eyes with your other hand. Johnny Cage. Rubbing your eyes again, you checked the time on the phone. It was nine at night. Carefully you snuck out of Liu’s arms without waking him. You’d mastered sneaking out of bed while you’d been dating Kung Lao. He was so heavy a sleeper that in the beginning of your relationship you had wound up trapped beneath his arms for hours. Then when you tried to get away, you’d wake him up. Eventually you’d mastered maneuvering from his grasp without waking him because waking him led to fooling around or talking and then you were either trapped having to pee or late for some responsibility or another.
Liu adjusted behind you but didn’t wake up. You fixed your askew shirt, grabbed your keycard, and then answered the phone and stepped into the hallway, carefully closing the door behind you.
“This is weird. I don’t think I even got your name earlier.” Johnny spoke without waiting for you to acknowledge him. You chuckled beneath your breath then cleared the sleepiness from your throat. “I know that may seem like it’s a pretty common thing for me but…”
“Y/N. You can call me Y/N.” You interrupted what you were sure was a very cleverly crafted explanation about his popularity and fame. Johnny Cage seemed like the type to be easily derailed from a topic with banter. You’d become skilled at wrangling men like that given that Kung Lao had been your other half for so long.
“And you’re from China, right?”
“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“Just trying to make sure I spell your name right…” His voice was distant, as if he spoke nowhere near the phone. You spelled your name for him with a sigh. “Is that…?”
“That is not important right now.” You interrupted him again. You had to keep him on task or this conversation was going to go on forever.
“Right, yes. I’ve been thinking about this morning.”
“And?”
“I was hoping to hash out the details with you guys before I officially agree to anything.” Johnny Cage tried to sound like he was bargaining with you but you were already convinced that he was joining you. This seemed like a formality. Or like he was dragging it out. Why? You couldn’t think of a good reason. Maybe to try and land a date with Sonya? You didn’t think that was going to happen and also it seemed petty. Then again, you and Liu were a hot mess in the middle of all of this so you couldn’t criticize anyone else’s motives. “I’ve begun clearing my schedule for the next few weeks but I’m a busy man, you know. Takes time.”
“I understand that. I’m sure that we can meet tomorrow to answer any questions you may still have.” There was no point in arguing with him on that. It was a reasonable request though not entirely necessary. Besides, you were still ready to jump to the kidnapping stage of this endeavor. If he caused too much trouble tomorrow then you would promptly lure him somewhere quiet and knock him out. Then you’d go from there. You could probably convince Cole to help you if you had to but you didn’t think it would go that far.
“That’s exactly what I hoped to hear!” You could hear the smile on Johnny’s face. “When we’re off the phone, I’ll text you where to meet me.”
“Sounds like a plan.” You yawned.
“I wanted to ask you something. You seem like a nice woman.”
Oh, how misguided a man Johnny Cage was. Oddly trusting for someone in his position. Here you were planning out an elaborate scheme to kidnap him and drag him to China and he thought you were nice. It was probably the tea thing from earlier. Ah, well. You’d fooled him.
“Ask away, Mr. Cage.”
“Just Johnny, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure.”
Then he sighed as if trying to word his question or embarrassed to ask it. You waited patiently. There was no need to rush him. You weren’t sure that Johnny Cage could be rushed. “Are you guys for real? Or are you just dicking me around? No one put you up to this, right?” After everything that you had showed him that morning, he was still stuck on the idea of this being a prank. Was Johnny often victim to silly pranks? Did he find himself the butt end of a joke amongst friends? It was funny to imagine.
“I know that this is… what’s the saying? Difficult medicine to take?” You weren’t so good with the English idioms. Maybe that was why he thought you to be nice. You were far more sarcastic in your native tongue. Your English was good but stuff didn’t always come out right.
“Hard pill to swallow but I got the point.” Johnny chuckled. “…so yeah? It’s true?”
“Trust me, Mr. Cage, I have much better things to do than play silly pranks on you.” You reassured him but he scoffed as if insulted. “That and I’d never heard of you before this.” It sounded like you’d punched him. Ah, yes, the delicate male ego.
“Low blow. Never heard of me?” You could picture the horror on his face.
“No offense meant.”
“I bet you just didn’t remember my name. Dragon Fist? Cage Match? Aquatic Assault? Exiting the Dragon of Death? A personal favorite of mine…”
“Exiting the Dragon of Death?”
“Yeah? You’ve heard of that one?”
“No.”
“Come on, don’t play with me like that.”
“I couldn’t resist.” You spoke over him as he made to list more movies. “I’m sorry to have offended you.” You were certain this could go on all night and you were still tired and now you were hungry too. Your appetite was back and you were far less shaky than you’d been earlier that day. “I did watch one of your films last night with a friend so that I could be familiar with your movement patterns.”
“For that crazy duplication thing you did?”
“For my arcana, yes.”
“…and?”
“It was a fun movie.”
“Which one did you watch?”
“Mr. Cage, this is a conversation for another time. Can we stay on topic?”
“Just Johnny, please.” Apparently no, he could not stay on topic. You pulled the phone away from your face so he wouldn’t hear your heavy sigh. Hearing footsteps behind you, you turned and found Cole approaching holding an ice bucket and offering a wave. He stopped next to you and nodded toward the phone. You mouthed that it was Johnny Cage. Then he offered you a thumbs up, pointed toward the end of the hall and walked away, presumably to get ice. “I’m making a choice to trust you. I don’t think you’re lying to me. I hope I’m making the right choice.”
“I’m a terrible liar so good choice.” He continued going on about something but your brain was tired of the babble. You needed food! This conversation felt like it would have gone on all week if you let him talk the way he wanted to. “Can I trust you no to dick us around?”
“I promise. You’ve got a deal, Y/N.”
“Text me the address and we’ll meet you just before noon.” You assured him.
“Got it. See you then.” Johnny hung up and you breathed a sigh of relief. At least this part of your trip was going smoothly. Seconds later your phone buzzed with a message from the same number. You selected the address and put it into the browser of your phone after figuring out how that worked. From what you could tell, the address seemed legit. A house by the shore. Of course, a beach house. Why wouldn’t he take the opportunity to show off?
“How’d it go?” Cole returned with his bucket full of ice.
“Mr. Cage is going to meet with us tomorrow to discuss details.”
“I anticipated us having to use your devious plan B so I’m surprised he’s going to meet with us.” Cole adjusted the bucket in his arms. “What do you think of him? I’m having a hard time taking him seriously.”
“I meant it when I said that I thought he was funny earlier. Honestly, if we had met without any of this pretense, I think that he and I would get along quite well.” You shrugged. “I also think that he’s going to do what he thinks is right if that’s what you were really asking. Seems like the type to talk a big game but ultimately a good guy.”
“That’s optimistic of you.”
“I usually have a good read on people.”
“I can tell.” Cole gestured toward your door. “You just getting in? Maybe not.” He looked down at your bare feet.
“I was napping.”
“And you came into the hallway to take a call?”
“Yeah, I was uh… going to grab food.”
“Without your shoes?”
“Are you always this nosy, Cole?”
“Not really but this afternoon has been especially boring. Plus, your reactions are entertaining.” Cole smirked. “You have more color now. That’s good to see.”
“Why does no one believe me when I say I’m just tired?” You gestured back to the room. “I’m gonna go.”
“We’re about to grab a bite to eat if you want to join us. Late dinner.”
“No, no, thank you though. That’s sweet. I’m okay.”
“You just said you were going to get food.” Cole laughed.
“…I think I’ll order something.” You pointed to your bare feet but was sure your expression was one that screamed you’d been caught in the most pointless of lies. Cole had inadvertently talked you into a corner. You hadn’t even meant to lie! It had just happened. This was why you didn’t usually bother.
“You’re lying.”
“Yeah, turns out I am. I’m not good at it.”
“I can see that.”
The door to your room opened behind you and Liu Kang peeked into the hall, still looking sleepy.
“Hello Cole” Liu stepped into the hall and kept the door propped open a crack, back leaned against it. Then he bowed his head politely in greeting. He turned to you and spoke Chinese as if this weren’t suspicious. You didn’t think it had the intention that he wanted it to have. “Everything okay?”
“I had a call to take with Mr. Cage. No big deal.” You replied in English to try and make it seem like you had less to hide. Why? Because Cole was already giving you a look as if to say it was ‘nothing’. You sighed. “I’m just about done.”
“Good.” Liu replied in English. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” You snapped at him without meaning to then took a cleansing breath. He was just worried about you but you were tired of the worry. You felt far better than you had earlier. A few hours of sleep had done you good. “I really am fine.” Liu bowed his head politely to both you and Cole and then disappeared back into the hotel room.
“What was it you were saying earlier? About that being nothing?” Cole teased in a whisper after you made no move to offer any explanation.
“If you recall, I also said it was none of your business.” There was no point in trying to lie again. You folded too easily. Instead, you’d be evasive. That was easier. Avoiding the truth was far easier than twisting it at least for you.
“Liu looked pretty tired. You guys have a nice nap?”
“We fell asleep talking.” You narrowed your eyes at his implications but also hated how close he was to the truth.
“Sure, is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
You shoved his shoulder with a laugh. “Your ice is melting Cole. It’s nothing.”
“Yeah, I’m going to have to mentally shift my definition of that word to better fit what I’m seeing.” He teased. “You’re trouble, Y/N. I’m making note of it.”
“You have no idea, Cole.” You pointed to the room behind you. “I’m going now.”
“Enjoy your nothing.” He called after you. You disappeared into the hotel room and then leaned against the door once it closed. You fiddled on your phone and sent a message to Jax, relaying what you’d learned from Johnny Cage along with the address and what you’d agreed to. The door to the small bathroom to your right opened and Liu stepped out, closing the door behind him. He waited patiently for you to finish on your phone.
“When I woke up and couldn’t find you, I was worried.” He nodded to the messy bed where you’d been sleeping. And snuggling. You mustn’t forget that there had been a fair amount of snuggling.
“My phone was ringing and it felt rude to answer it with you asleep so I stepped into the hall.” You shook the phone in your hand and then filled him in on the conversation you’d shared with Johnny Cage. You left out the exhausting banter that had kept you on the phone for far longer than necessary. Even if it had been mentally exhausting, you had also enjoyed talking with him. Your phone buzzed with Jax’s response. “Okay, Jax is going to arrange a ride to take us to meet Johnny tomorrow. He’ll also let everyone else know where to meet.”
“Good.”
Silence followed and you stood awkwardly in the small entranceway of the hotel room.
“So.” You began.
“So.”
“You should probably go, right?”
“Yeah.” Liu shifted but made no move to leave and a smile played on his lips. “Or… I could stay. We could order some food and continue our… getting along for the day.”
“Mostly getting along.” You corrected. Maybe he’d chosen to forget when he’d pushed you against the wall and you’d nearly undressed him. You blinked the mental image away. If you thought about it for too long then you’d probably end up right back where you’d started. “We could. Is that what you wanted to do?”
“Are you okay with that?”
“I guess.”
“There was a menu around here somewhere.” Liu walked back into the open area of the room and you were grateful he’d taken the initiative to make the decision to stay. In all honesty, his presence was comforting and conflicting. You craved the comfort but the guilt and pain made you want to push him away. Your brain was such a mess. Your emotions were even worse. You joined him and mulled over the menu, trying to discern what was safe for you to eat. Liu called to place the order since he had several questions about the food. His diet was more specific than yours was. You had never quite taken to the vegetarian diet completely. Your food arrived and you sat on your bed and ate while making quiet conversation. It was pleasant, if not a little awkward. In a way, it was reminiscent of when you would spend time alone together when you were first dating Kung Lao. You had often avoided discussing the difficult things then but not for the sake of each other. Instead, it was for Kung Lao.
“Cole seems to have taken a shine to you.”
“Yeah, he’s a nice guy and his family is cute. I think he feels guilty about Kung Lao so he’s compensating a little.”
“I could see that. I tried to reassure him that he isn’t to blame.”
“I did too.” You clicked your tongue in amusement. Liu gently nudged you with his shoulder.
“Today was nice.”
“I mean, parts of it were.”
“We had a bit of a rough start but things didn’t end so horribly.”
“Well,” you began in a higher, nervous pitch, “we didn’t exactly fix anything.” Liu laughed. “And I think we definitely made things worse but… all things considered, neither one of us is dead and we aren’t screaming at each other so that’s something.”
“I was thinking and… maybe we don’t have to fix anything.” Liu avoided your eyes and began to clean up dinner. You knew why he was avoiding your eyes because you were looking at him like he’d lost his damn mind. He had. He was insane. You couldn’t keep going like this. You both knew that. “We can’t ignore it, obviously. But we can’t expect to resolve anything when we’re like this. We’re grieving, Y/N. We hurt each other. But I also think that it could be healthy to try and find a way to be content amongst all of that too. We can’t force a resolution, Y/N. I think that’s clear.” Liu’s smile was soft but strained, like talking about it so analytically pained him. “I don’t think I can handle this much misery all the time.”
“I understand.” You didn’t necessarily disagree with him you just couldn’t see the end either. He seemed to think there was some kind of happily ever after waiting for you and you didn’t think there was. The only end to life was death. Even if you found happiness eventually, life would continue moving. No amount of happiness would erase your history nor would it erase your trauma. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t find joy. You were just being realistic. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” You helped him gather the dishes. Liu then placed the tray aside on the desk. You picked up the tray and placed it carefully outside the door and then returned to him. “Surreal is maybe a better word for what we are right now.”
“Surreal works.” Liu’s smile was forced and it pained you. “We’re going to be okay.”
“Oh, you think so, hmm? Confident in that?”
“I am.” He grinned but you could still see that worry behind his dark eyes. Liu had never been a good liar either. It was a wonder that he’d fooled you all those years ago. Perhaps because he’d said all the things that you’d been afraid he’d say.
“I suppose the worst thing that could happen is that we decide not to talk to each other anymore and lose touch. Then in like, thirty years, we’ll reunite and reminisce about the old days. Then this won’t seem so complicated anymore.” You hadn’t realized how much you’d considered that as an option until then. Liu seemed alarmed. “What?”
“Is that what you plan to do?”
“That would imply that I’ve thought past today so… no.” You sat on the side of the bed facing the window. There was no way to open the window so this was as close to the breeze and the stars as you could get. “But it happens. People drift apart even after being as close as we were especially after traumatic stuff like this. And this is a pretty messed up thing we’re dealing with, Liu. I can’t pretend to know what will happen.”
“I don’t want to drift apart.” He sat next to you and cautiously placed a hand over yours on the bed between you. There were times where he treated you like a ticking time bomb. This was one of them.
“Of course not, Liu. I don’t want that to happen either.”
“You had that scenario pretty thought out.”
“This time, Liu? You’re the one overthinking things.”
“Maybe.” He watched out the window, but you felt his thumb brush over the back of your hand. Looking at the night sky was easier than looking at each other. But right now the night sky looked empty. You didn’t see the stars. Just the lights of busy Los Angeles, a thing which brought you no peace. “Do you think you’ll still be this cute in thirty years?”
“I uh…” You laughed and pretended to consider it. “I didn’t think about it. For the brief moment I considered this make-believe scenario, you were still cute.” You joked and nudged him playfully.
“You’re beautiful Y/N, so I’m sure you will be too.” Liu still didn’t look at you. “I always thought so. Even when I used to tease you.” You rolled your eyes at him in disgust and he laughed again. You were well beyond being bashful at his compliments.
“Cut it out, Liu.”
“I just don’t want to leave it unsaid.”
“It feels like you’re trying to butter me up.” You narrowed your eyes in suspicion.
“Maybe. Or… perhaps this last week I’ve been cruel to you. I thought that I’d pay you a compliment instead.” That was as good an excuse as any. You had dug at each other quite a bit the past few days.
“I’m not vain.”
“I know. I always liked that about you.”
“Stop it, Liu. You’re freaking me out.” You laughed and shoved at his shoulder.
“I won’t.” He leaned back on one arm. You reached for your phone on the bed behind you as it buzzed. Jax had verified the location online as legitimate. He’d even found out that the property belonged to Johnny. Apparently, Jax had been much more suspicious of him than you had been. You’d decided to trust Johnny. And if he lied to you then you’d just go to plan B. Kidnapping. Jax continued on to say that he’s pretty sure the asshole just wanted to show off his beach house. You chuckled. You’d thought the same thing. You replied quickly to ask if you were still to meet in the morning in the same place. Jax replied to be in the lobby by ten. “Going off without a hitch?”
“Are you spying on my conversation?” You cradled the phone protectively against your chest and pouted.
“I didn’t mean to.” You set the phone aside face up. You had nothing to hide anyway, you’d just been trying to lighten the mood. Then you watched the dark sky out the window and tried to find something positive to say about it. He was right. You’d had too much unpleasantness lately. “Kung Lao would have loved…”
“Do you think about that a lot? What Kung Lao would have thought or felt?”
“Don’t you?” You thought that was obvious. “We spent most of our time together. This is the longest I’ve been alone in years.”
“I… hadn’t considered that.” Liu’s eyes fell to the floor. There was plenty that you hadn’t thought regarding each other. “It must have been hard waking up next to me.” You sighed heavily. There were those difficult conversations you couldn’t seem to avoid. You didn’t know how to respond. That wasn’t an easy answer. If you could have lied and said it wasn’t weird than it would have been simpler. But lying had gotten you into this in the first place and you didn’t want to lie. You were so tired of hurting.
“I… yes.” You sighed and then closed your eyes tight. “But I confess that I miss being held.” You hated saying it and even got the chills as you did. You and Kung Lao had spent most nights at least next to each other if not tangled up in each other. Liu was watching you with those big sad puppy dog eyes of his again. “But I also feel selfish and awful for having briefly thought it was nice.”
“It’s okay to be selfish at times.” He clasped his hands together in his lap, as if nervous they would betray him as they had often done. “I confess that when I woke up alone, I panicked.” You smiled a little. You hadn’t considered that he would be upset to wake up alone after falling asleep next to you. Oh, boy. You were both a mess. “But then I remembered this was your room and you had nowhere to run, really.”
“Did you briefly consider that I was so dedicated to running away that I went and got another hotel room to avoid you?”
“No.” He laughed and then furrowed his brow as if trying to picture you doing that. “You didn’t consider that, did you?”
“Of course not.” You chuckled, resting your elbows on your knees. “The phone rang and I didn’t want to wake you. That’s about as far as I had thought.” Your head was pounding and you realized all at once that you were clenching your jaw. Ugh, tension headache. “At least this time I woke up with all of my clothes on.” Liu laughed softly and avoided your eyes. Then he laughed harder as if he’d just gotten the joke. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s kind of like déjà vu, isn’t it? You woke up next to me again and then I woke up alone.”
“You know, Liu, I’m trying, but that’s not funny.”
Still he laughed and you watched him in disbelief. Was it you? Were you the one cracking up?
“I have to laugh, Y/N. I have to or I think about how screwed up it is.” He leaned back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. His face fell. You turned to watch him in disbelief and your stomach twisted up into knots. “I just couldn’t help myself, could I? I had to… cross that line.”
“Liu…” You didn’t want to fight again. You thought you had made a truce for the day.
“I have to say this, Y/N.” He turned his head to the side to look at you and you leaned on your side to better meet his eyes. They were so sad and it was killing you. “The woman that Kung Lao planned to spend the rest of his life with. Only a little while after he’s gone and I just… how selfish I am.” You searched his troubled eyes and then couldn’t help but laugh but you weren’t smiling either. Liu knit his brow in confusion.
“Liu, I… I said the same things to myself.” You offered a sympathetic smile but he didn’t seem relieved to hear that. “Not about you, obviously. I don’t think I’ve ever used the word selfish when describing you, really. Or at least meant it. Maybe out of anger… but I… how could I? Kung Lao’s best friend. His brother. I feel like I just lost him and I still, somehow, couldn’t manage to keep myself together well enough not to sleep with you.”
“Sometimes we’re a lot alike.”
“Most times it feels like we’re oil and water.” Now you avoided his eyes, afraid of what yours might reveal to him. “I’m sorry that I ran off that morning, Liu. I panicked. I didn’t know what else to do. I was terrified and embarrassed and ashamed and… the idea of having to talk to you about it was too much.”
“Why were you so scared?” He turned on his side to face you, as if eager for this answer, as if he had been caught wondering that same thing for too long. “I know it was a… big thing but I…”
“I guess no matter how I played it in my head, it went wrong. You uh…” You were having a difficult time saying the words without getting upset. “I kept picturing us having to find a way to… be okay with… it being a mistake because… I…” You were frustrated with yourself for not being able to say it. “It felt like a mistake. Like we’d fallen into an old habit. Or that it was just… a transaction and I couldn’t hear those words again after everything. I was already falling apart and I don’t know what that would have done to me. And then… you being receptive to it would have been just as painful… I… Kung Lao…” You had to stop there. You were pretty sure you’d made your point.
“I think I get it.” His eyes were taking you in while yours were avoiding him and were most likely glassy with tears. “Maybe I didn’t consider how much I’d hurt you back then. It never crossed my mind until you brought it back up and I realized the damage I’d done. I hadn’t considered myself that important.” There was that similarity again. Neither one of you thought yourselves to be important to the other when it was far from the truth. “I wish I’d had a say in the matter that morning.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I understand now.” He sat up and offered you a hand to help your back up too. you took it and sat up with him but he didn’t let go of your hand. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry that I reacted so angrily. That I was so cold to you. I thought it might make things easier and put distance between us.”
“Did it work?”
“No. No, it didn’t. I wish, more than anything, that I could go back.” His eyes were dripping with sincerity and you avoided his gaze again. You couldn’t help but think that if this had been Kung Lao, you never would have had this conversation. Nothing ever would have gotten resolved. You had both avoided your emotions like the plague.
“To that morning? Hard pass, Liu.”
“Think about it. I could wake up with you. Keep you from running. We could talk.”
“That’s a fantasy, Liu. It wouldn’t have ended the way you want.” You threw him an accusatory glance. “You’re fantasizing. I was too panicked. I would have lashed out.”
“And maybe I could have kept a level head.”
“It’s a fantasy.”
“Let me have my fantasy, Y/N.” He laughed and gave your hand a squeeze. His smile faded as he let go of your hand and closed some of the distance between you. Your instinct was to pull back but you didn’t. He pushed your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear. The loose strands of your long hair tickled your neck as they fell back into place. You turned your gaze away. His hand was warm as it rested on your cheek and you could feel him admiring you.
“Seems dangerous to let you.”
“Many good things can be dangerous, Y/N,” he whispered. You got the shivers and moistened your lips nervously. You should have moved back when you’d wanted to. You were so much closer than you’d realized and his lips brushed just against yours. He was going to kiss you and you knew what would happen. Tender kisses led to feverish kisses. No kiss between you had ever stayed just that. You had never once exchanged a soft, momentary kiss. Every single time you had wound up in his arms. His lips would treasure yours like they were something priceless and yours would tease his in return to make him want more. Then you’d be naked.
The more time you spent this close to Liu the more inevitable it seemed to wind up in his bed and you weren’t sure that was the right thing. You weren’t sure it wouldn’t destroy you. It was a dangerous way to think but he was right too. Many of the best things were often dangerous.
“Don’t.” You managed and caught his eyes, half-lidded and admiring your lips. His gaze snapped back up to yours and you watched as he took a careful breath. You could feel it against your lips. He was thinking it too. How dangerous this had become.
“Probably a bad idea, right?” His voice was low and just for you.
“An incredibly bad idea.” You tried to joke but your words fell flat. It was miserable being this close to him and not kissing him, against every instinct in your body. You could feel as he ran his tongue over his lower lip, as he weighed the pros and cons of defying you. You held your breath.
Then he scooted back a few inches. You felt like you could suddenly breathe, like the air was less thick than it had been so close to him. Your heart was hammering away and it was a headrush, as if to punish you for having wanted that kiss. You cleared your throat and put more distance between you. But try as you might, you couldn’t stop thinking about those marks you’d left on his back that you had so clearly felt earlier. Did he think of how you’d clung to him in passion every time he shifted and felt those scabs? That was truly a dangerous thought.
“It’s late. I should go.” He had turned away, but his eyes were wide and his breath was short, as though he were also fighting dangerous thoughts.
“Yeah. Good idea.” You got up and walked past him and around the bed. He followed you and then walked past you to the door. Then he bowed politely.
“Goodnight, Y/N.” He looked hesitant, as if he were still considering crossing that line again.
“Get out, Liu.” You gestured to the door behind him, making the choice for him. He laughed and did just as you asked. Once he’d gone, you leaned against the door with a thud and whined. “What am I doing?” You closed your eyes tight and felt a wave of guilt weigh you down. Then you flipped the swing bar lock shut on the door as if this would provide you with protection from your stupid feelings.
Maybe you had to reconsider the situation.
Maybe this was inevitable.
Maybe guilt wasn’t enough to keep you from being attracted to Liu Kang.
It felt wrong. It felt like you were betraying Kung Lao. It was too soon and you were too broken. But maybe someday it wouldn’t be those things. You weren’t sure how long either one of you could wait either. Spending the afternoon with Liu had been eye opening.
Next Chapter >>
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pikemoreno · 3 years
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a lovely night
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pairing: cassian andor x gn!reader
word count: 2k
warnings: nothing at all
a/n: really really excited to finally write for my main man cassian andor. this takes place before the events of rogue one, obviously, i’d say multiple years before. and it’s loosely inspired by the song ‘a lovely night’ from la la land, feel free to listen to that before or as you read for the ~vibes~.
wanna join a taglist? | masterlist 
You hated this planet already.
Well, not the planet necessarily. 
Alderaan’s title of “the planet of beauty” was well-deserved. You’d spent the better part of the day traipsing through the Alderaanian wilderness in pursuit of an Imperial arms dealer who supposedly had a secret store in the Isatabith rain forest, but to call it all “wilderness” seemed too unruly a word. Even the mossy trees and rocky slopes had a certain elegance about them. The waterfalls fell in gorgeous curtains and the trees formed natural, breathtaking rooves above the forest floor.
Now, the cities, you were finding, were just as breath-taking. Here in the capital of Aldera the landscape remained unspoiled-- industry and nature working in harmony, growing together. The water that completely surrounded it shone with all of the colors of a sunset as the golden light fell behind the great peaks on the horizon.
No, you loved the planet, It was the company that was the problem. You looked to your left at the aforementioned offender as he checked you into the beautiful silver-towered hotel you were staying at-- a gift from the Alderaanian government in return for you helping them weed out the Imperials. His dark hair was wind-tossed from the long day in the mountains. His eyes were tired but still crinkled at the edges as he gave his most friendly smile to the person at the front desk
Captain Cassian Andor. 
To say you hated him was an overstatement. You didn’t. His gruff demeanor and barking orders when in “Captain Mode” did not tend to win him any favors in the friend department for anyone, but he wasn’t a terrible person. In fact, you’d been friends as children, though that fact didn’t necessarily help his cause. He was so annoying back then, so loud. He was always bothering you and getting you into trouble-- and yet there came the paradox that you continued to seek out his companionship until you split ways as teenagers. You had been fond of the skinny little kid, filled to his very brim with fierce energy.
He’d come back into your life two years ago when you formally joined the rebellion. He had mellowed out an insane amount since then. However, he was just as much of a nuisance in your eyes now as he had been as children-- just in a different way. Now he would contradict everything you say. Any thought, any stance you had, he seemed to automatically take the opposite approach. You would often catch him smiling as he did so, making it more than clear that he was only doing it to get a rise out of you.
At least for the sake of missions, you couldn’t complain. He was a more-than-competent partner. Frankly, he was really good at what he did and there wasn’t anyone else you could think of who you’d prefer from a strategy standpoint. 
So, no, you didn’t completely hate him. You just hated it here. With him. 
It all could’ve been such a dream: a half-mission, half-romantic getaway with the elegance and beauty of the planet’s scenery and culture inspiring a wanna-be couple to take leaps and bounds forward in their blossoming relationship.
But you were here with your local nuisance, the man who frustrated you more than anyone else in the galaxy.
You’d have to come back with someone else. 
Cassian’s hand on your shoulder brought you out of your musings as you appeared to him to simply be looking thoughtfully at a hand-sculpted stone pillar’s delicate flower design. 
“Ready to go up?” 
You nodded, hoisting the small bag of your personal effects up onto your shoulder. “More like ready to collapse.” 
“What? You’re not going to stay up and party?” Cassian supplied with a distinct tone of sarcasm as you stepped onto the elevator.
“A party?”
“They just warned me about some big “Founder’s Day” party that’s happening throughout the city tonight and said they hoped it wouldn’t bother us. That’s all.”
“I see. Well, if it bothers me enough, I might just have to go out then,” you teased. “Are you joining me?” He had never been the type. Never. You had been forced to drag him to the last party celebrating a huge win against the Empire-- a party that was mostly to celebrate his accomplishment.
“Of course not. I’m with you. It’s been a long day.” 
“Did you just agree with me?” You added a fake gasp for effect. “You? Captain Cassian Andor, Rebel Intelligence heard me say something and agreed with it?”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t get used to it,” he muttered with a crooked smile, his hand hovering at your back as you stepped off the elevator and into your designated room directly across from it.
The Alderaanian government was far too kind. The suite was beyond luxurious, looking more like an expensive apartment than a hotel room. It had a full kitchen and living space, all decorated to the nines. Chandeliers were hung throughout; there was a water feature in the middle of the space for kriff’s sake! But your focus was on the view directly ahead. On the far side of the living space, the wall was made up of floor to ceiling windows leading out to a balcony. The purples and pinks and oranges of dusk filled your vision and you momentarily forgot your tiredness, walking in a near daze to open the door to the balcony and step out. You felt Cassian’s presence beside you as you reached the railing and looked to the streets below, filled with color and exquisitely decorated people like you’d never seen before.
“Not much to look at huh?” Cassian deadpanned.
“I’ve seen better.” You shrugged. Yet you both stood there awed at the celebrations happening around you underneath a sky that seemed to celebrate in swirling hues of its own. A moment later you murmured before you could even realize what you’d said, 
“‘s so romantic.”
“What?” The word was breathy with a laugh, but his body language was as if he had bristled-- back-stepping feet, shoulders squared to you.
“It’s romantic. It’s just too bad I’m here with you,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. He visibly relaxed, crossing his arms. 
“Is that so? I have to say I agree. I’ll have to remember this for… Future romantic endeavors.”
You scoffed. “You? Romantic endeavors?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” 
“I can’t say you seem like much of a romantic Mr. Married To The Rebellion.” 
“Perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
“Perhaps not,” you conceded.
“And what about you, hmm? You seemed very adamant about being here with someone else.” 
You smiled, giving an over dramatic sigh.
“It’s a shame really. I could’ve been here with that new pilot. But instead I’m here with the life-long pain in my ass.”
“Kenan? That new pilot?” 
“Yeah.” Cassian matched your earlier scoff and you turned to face him, matching his crossed arms. “What? What’s wrong with Kenan?” 
“He’s a hot-shot,” you rolled your eyes turning back to face the party below as he spoke, “He never listens to orders. He’s arrogant. And a notorious flirt. And--,” you see him shake his head out of the corner of your eye, “He’s just not good enough for you.”
You shrugged simply in return. His surprisingly scathing response had caught you severely off guard.
“It was just a joke,” you offered after a moment, “I’m not interested in Kenan. At all.” He nodded, but didn’t respond further.
The silence that followed was interrupted as blue and silver fireworks suddenly bursted into the air above you. You held your breath, watching the sparks rain back down and disappear into the darkening sky. The music grew louder to keep up with the controlled explosions fighting for airspace, an up-tempo, fiery melody that made your fingers tap on the ivory colored rail. 
A hand came to rest on yours, stopping the movement. You froze, looking over to Cassian who offered no hint as to what he was going to do next. He readjusted his light grip so that his hand was under yours, gently lifting it and leading you in closer.
“What are you doing?” you asked as calmly as you could though your voice shook with sudden nerves.
“Dancing,” he said simply, “We used to dance all the time as kids. Remember?”
“I do,” you grinned as both of your hands followed muscle memory to their proper placement: hands joined out to the side, a hand gently holding your waist, and your left hand resting on his shoulder. He grinned back at you as he started to move. He led you in a way that felt so natural, twirling you, laughing with you, trying to bring back to memory all of the little tricks you could do, just like it always was. It was so normal, yet so new. You’d truly danced about a hundred times before, but this was something different entirely. 
It was, in a word: romantic. The view, the elegant suite inside, the music, the… The companionship. It sent your heart aflutter in a way that was entirely unexpected and absolutely annoying. 
“It’s just Cassian!” You yelled at the butterflies in your stomach. 
But there was something about it all that wasn’t “just.” It hadn’t been “just” since you reconnected with him two years ago, though you had previously been reluctant to admit it.
You’re not quite sure how long you danced; you didn’t stop until the music did. All of the partiers below now paused their movements to watch the finale of the fireworks. You both likewise dropped the hands that been clasped together at shoulder height, but the hand on his shoulder and the one on your waist remained, keeping you close as you watched new colors and shapes rise and fall in the now-starry sky. 
“That was fun,” you whispered, giving his shoulder a light squeeze and gazing out to the mountains. “You do continue to surprise me, Cassian Andor.” You saw him look over to you in your peripheral and you turned to meet his gaze. The sparks bursting overhead reflected in his dark eyes so they shined, highlighting their mischievous glint. You were almost too close now, it would only take you leaning in to- 
“You questioned my romantic abilities; I had to prove myself,” Cassian explained with an unmistakable confidence. His thumb drew the smallest of circles where it rested on your waist. It seemed to be an unconscious action, but you’d be a liar if you said you wanted him to stop doing it. 
“Point made. But you never have to prove yourself to me. I knew you during your ‘Kade Genti, Master of Section Nine’ phase and I’m still here aren’t I?” 
“Oh not the cartoons phase,” he groaned, but his eyes were bright with memories.
“The cartoons were fine. It was the ‘never taking off the costume’ part.” 
“I remember Sura Tik making fun of me for it.”
“And I made her eat dirt for making fun of you,” you smirked.
“Yeah, you did.” A beat. “You were always there.” 
“I tried.”
There you stood in front of the bursting sky and just looked at each other-- at your old friend. You weren’t speaking, but the moment was anything but silent, thoughts from both sides equally loud. 
Maybe it’s been always been you.
It only took him making the smallest of glances towards your lips for you to close the fragile gap that remained between you, an action which he did not hesitate to return, a hand moving to rest against your cheek.
Thank goodness for that grounding hand, you thought, or else you might just have collapsed. For there in your midst were fireworks: louder and brighter than any on Alderaan.
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thetranquilteal · 3 years
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The Vintage Calendar [AO3] by @thetranquilteal
With the ending of her contract with the UK Armed Forces, all Claire Beauchamp wants for Christmas is to enjoy a quiet holiday in Scotland with her long-term boyfriend Frank Randall. While visiting with close friends, however, Claire is gifted with a vintage advent calendar that sets her life on a path she never expected... one that leads to Northern Badgers star, James Fraser.  
Modern Day AU loosely based on the Netflix Christmas movie ‘The Holiday Calendar’. New chapter posted every day!
A/N: Welcome to The Vintage Calendar! This story is prewritten and scheduled to update with a new chapter each and every day from now until December 24 (along with intermittent updates to my other Christmas stories Wonderful and The Gift). I hope you enjoy this Hallmark-esque tale and I wish you all a happy holiday. A x
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Prologue
“Now then, dear, tell me. What are your plans for Christmas?”
“Just a quiet day together, I think,” Claire sipped at her tea as she thought on her answer. It hadn’t been a long drive from their B&B in Inverness to the Reverend’s Manse but in truth she was still exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sit down and enjoy a hot cuppa, Christmas being the last thing on her mind. “I’m not sure if Frank mentioned, but I’ve not celebrated for some years now.”
“Oh?” Mrs Graham sipped at her own cup casually and Claire appreciated the lack of judgement in her voice.
“I always loved the holiday as a small child - the lights, the festivities, the magic of it all - but with no family to celebrate with and seeing the things that I have over the years... I suppose I’ve turned into quite the Scrooge,” Claire chuckled. “That being said, even if we did decide to do something for Christmas I would still request a quiet day in. No work. No responsibilities,” she sighed happily at the thought. “That’s all I could ever want.”
“Frank mentioned you were stationed overseas, a time or two?”
“That’s correct,” Claire nodded. “My primary role as an Army Nurse was with overseas Medical Regiments. And I enjoyed it, I truly did - it was a very rewarding career and incredibly satisfying - but most recently I was assigned to one of the local Defence Medical Group Hospitals and after a couple of months… well, I realised how tired I was. It was like I had lost that spark that kept me going for so long. By the time renewal for my contract came around I knew I had done all that I needed to do. That it was time for a change.”
“Starting with a holiday in Inverness.”
“Yes,” Claire smiled happily. “It was a hard decision to leave the Armed Forces after so many years but there are so many more options to explore as a civilian and it means spending more time with Frank.” She turned to look at her boyfriend sitting over at the table with Reverend Wakefield, a multitude of papers and books open in front of them. The look on his face as they studied was one that she had most certainly missed.
“Long distance relationships can be difficult,” Mrs Graham acknowledged and Claire turned back to her.
“It feels as though we hardly know each other these days,” Claire admitted quietly. “I’m really looking forward to spending an entire month together with nothing to distract us. I think that’s what we need at this point.”
“Well, if you decide you would like some company come Christmas you are always welcome here at the Manse. Reginald would certainly love to have you both here, as would I,” without waiting for an answer, Mrs Graham continued. “Now, drink up your cup and let’s see what we’ve got there.”
Claire wasn’t at all surprised by the request. Upon their arrival in Inverness, Frank had forewarned her of Mrs Graham’s ‘eccentricities’. Reading tea leaves, she understood, was but one of the older lady’s many hobbies. She tipped up her cup and swallowed the last of her tea before handing it over.
“Well?” Claire joked as she watched Mrs Graham tip her cup this way and that. “Am I going to meet a tall, dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Mrs Graham smiled briefly before becoming more serious, her brow creased in contemplation. “There’s an angel which means good news, especially good fortune in love,” she tilted her head, “a clover which means happiness and prosperity that, being near the top of the cup, will likely come quickly. And would you look at that… you might well be right about going on a journey, though not across the sea: the swallow indicates a journey with a pleasant ending. Show me your hand, dear.”
Claire did as requested and waited patiently as she studied the lines on her hand. To her surprise Mrs. Graham simply let go and pushed her chair back.
“Wait here, dear. I’ll be back in a wee moment.”
Claire leaned back and considered everything the older woman had mentioned. Growing up and travelling the world with her Uncle Lambert, she had heard and witnessed many things that were different, unusual - and oftentimes seemingly unexplainable - but she never could say she believed in the spiritual. Faith, even, was something she had come to question during her time in the Force but she couldn’t deny she liked the tale Mrs Graham had told. Good fortune, happiness and prosperity were all things she wished for - as did most other people, admittedly. She stood when Mrs Graham returned with a large wooden item in her arms, something house shaped with little numbered doors all over.
“An advent calendar?” Claire asked.
“Aye, t’was my grandmother’s once upon a time. And her grandmother’s before that.” Mrs Graham placed the calendar down on the table gently. “And now I want you to have it, Claire.”
“Me?”
“Why, yes.”
“Oh, Mrs. Graham. I couldn’t possibly. Surely your children should be the ones to receive a family heirloom? Didn’t you say your son and daughter-in-law were planning to start a family of their own? I’m sure they would appreciate such a beautiful item.”
And beautiful it was. While it was evident it had been crafted a long time ago, the paint remained unblemished and the detailing in perfect condition. Its colours, soft and neutral l rather than bold and tacky like so many contemporary decorations, appealed to her in particular.
“This calendar has been passed down through many a generation,’ Mrs. Graham nodded in agreement, ‘but... no’ necessarily in the family - though it does seem to keep coming back every now and again. I believe this calendar goes to those who need it rather than those who happen upon it."
“Your gift is so incredibly kind, I’m touched.” Claire meant every word but she couldn’t help but ask, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to give something so special to someone else? Someone who loves celebrating Christmas, perhaps?”
“No, dear, I’m certain. I already knew your opinion on Christmas before giving it to you,” she reminded her. “Besides, you dinnae ken, this old thing might just change your mind.”
Claire looked down at the vintage advent calendar, the intrinsic details even more breathtaking at close range. While she could concede that it was an incredible piece and would look rather wonderful placed on the dresser in the living space at Mrs Baird’s B&B...
A vintage advent calendar changing her view on Christmas? Unlikely.
A/N: Fun Fact: Mrs Graham’s tea leaf interpretations are real interpretations from ‘Tea-cup Reading and Fortune-Telling by Tea Leaves’ by A Highland Seer (2006). // Are you as sceptical of the vintage calendar as Claire? Let me know what you think!
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prettyyoungandbored · 4 years
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Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Two
Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC
Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.) 
Taglist: @dragonballluver 
Warning: Semi-smut, dirty talking, etc.
Previous chapter 
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Demetria removed her coat, throwing it over her arm as Bruce spoke to the host. She could feel the eyes of other patrons glancing over at her as they leaned over to whisper to one another. She flashed a small smile, hoping they’d get the hint that either a.) she was well aware of their staring and felt deeply uncomfortable by it or b.) she was just waiting for her fiancé to finish up talking so they could sit and eat. 
She then felt Bruce take her hand, her eyes shifting to him. 
“Shouldn’t we wait for the host?” she asked. 
“They know where we’ll be.” 
He led her through the restaurant, eyes of other patrons following their every move. Demetria pulled back her lips as she quickened her pace a bit to walk by her fiancé’s side. 
“Rachel, fancy that.” 
Demetria looked over to find Rachel and Harvey sitting at a table. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Harvey.
“Yeah Bruce,” Rachel responded ever so cooly. “Fancy that.” She stood up and hugged Demetria. “Good to see you as always.”
“You too and I love this dress,” Demetria said, taking a step back to admire it. She then turned to Harvey.  “I see you changed your shirt after your soy sauce debacle.” She turned to Rachel. “I tell him several times not to open the damn packet with his teeth--.” 
“He doesn’t listen,” Rachel finished, nodding her head. She turned to Bruce. “Bruce, this is Harvey Dent.” 
Harvey got up and shook Bruce’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you.” 
“You as well. I’ve heard a lot about you from Rachel and Demetria.” 
“Demetria’s told me a lot about you.” 
“Well I certainly hope not everything,”Bruce laughed. “What do you say we push some tables together?” 
“I don’t know if they’ll let us,” Harvey responded.
“Oh they should,” Bruce assured, motioning to the waiter. “I own the place.”
Demetria whipped her head. “You own what now?” 
Bruce smirked at her. “I told you it was a surprise.” 
After the waiters moved the tables together, Bruce took the seat next to Rachel while Demetria took the seat beside Harvey.
“So Demetria, Harvey introduced me to your mom over the phone,” Rachel spoke up. “She sounds like she’s over the moon about the engagement.” 
Demetria nodded. “She’s flooding my emails with ideas for the wedding decor when we haven’t even set a date.” 
“Bruce, have you met Olivia?” Harvey brought up, taking a sip of water. 
“I did,” Bruce nodded. “When she came up to the city for the weekend a few months back.” 
“How’d you guys manage that?” Harvey asked Demetria. 
“We had dinner at my place,” Demetria answered. 
“Oh, you mean you ordered take out?” 
Demetria shot Harvey a glare. “It was from a nice restaurant.” 
He smirked. “I’m sure she had a lot to say about it.” 
“She actually loved it.” 
“What did she think of Gotham City?” Rachel asked. 
“She has her reservations, but really she’s just nervous because of all the crimes and whatnot. She keeps asking me if this is a place I wanna raise kids in.” 
“Well I was raised here and I turned out ok,” Bruce remarked.
Demetria smiled at him, patting his leg with her hand. 
“Is Wayne Manor in the city limits?” Harvey questioned. 
Bruce let out a wry laugh. “The Palisades? Sure. You know, as our new DA, you might want to figure out where your jurisdiction ends.” 
Harvey sat back in his chair as Demetria, uncomfortable at the scene that was playing out in front of her, changed the subject. “If anything, she’s just weirded out by Batman and how, as she puts it, Gotham City looks up to a guy in a mask.” 
“Gotham City is proud of an ordinary citizen standing up for what’s right,” Harvey defended. 
“But who appointed the Batman,” Bruce joked. 
“We did,” Harvey answered. “All of us who stood by and let scum take control of our city. When their enemies were at the gates, the Romans would suspend democracy and appoint one man to protect the city and it wasn’t considered an honor, it was considered a public service.” 
Rachel leaned toward him. “Harvey, the last man that they appointed to protect the republic was named Caesar and he never gave up his power.” 
“Ok fine. You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” 
“I actually find him fascinating,” Demetria spoke up.
“What do you mean?” Harvey questioned.
“Think about it, most people who do heroic things do it because deep down, they secretly want to feel good about themselves, right?  Everyone wants to achieve some sort of glory, even if they don’t want to admit. Here comes this guy who’s actually going out and making some sort of a difference, and he's doing it without giving out who he really is.” 
“Well he’s giving some sort of an identity,” Bruce corrected. “He just works under a different name.” 
“But still, it’s someone who is actually going out there and is taking care of the problem without abusing their power like most police officers do,” Demetria went on. “He doesn’t even give any kind of hint to who he is. He could be anybody. I mean, even Harvey, you could...” She paused, before waving her hand. “Actually, you couldn’t be the Batman. You got your ass beat in intramural football in college too many times.” 
Rachel nearly choked on her drink, excusing herself as she tried to fight back laughter. Bruce smirked, eyes down on the ground. 
Harvey tilted his head. “Hey, while we’re on the topic of embarrassing college memories, remember the time I walked in on you and that guy from Student Government at that party senior year?” 
Demetria’s eyes widened while Bruce lifted his head up, intrigued. “I’d like to hear more about that.” 
“It was a one time thing,” she said, clenching her teeth.
“Look, whoever the Batman is he doesn’t want to do this for the rest of his life,” Harvey continued. “How could he? Batman is looking for someone to take up his mantle.”
“And you think that person could be you?” Demetria asked. 
He shrugged. “If I’m up to it.” 
She folded her arms across her chest. “Do you honestly think Batman is gonna come up to you and say, ‘Hey, I don’t wanna do this anymore so can you handle this?’” 
“Not like that no.” 
“Then how the hell do you know what he wants?” 
“At the end of the day, no one wants the sole responsibility of carrying the safety of the entire city on their shoulder.” 
“Except you, and to be fair, that’s what makes you a great District Attorney.”
Harvey and Demetria exchanged smiles. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me all night, Dem.” 
She shrugged her shoulders. “I have my moments.” 
“Well I’m sold, Dent,” Bruce chimed in. “I’m gonna throw you a fundraiser.” 
Demetria whipped her head to Bruce. “You’re what?” 
“That’s nice of you, Bruce,” Harvey chuckled. “But I’m not up for reelection for three years.” 
Bruce shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. One fundraiser with my pals, you’ll never need another cent.” 
“It’s a kind gesture-.” 
“You can also think of it as a thank you for bringing my future wife to Gotham,” Bruce cut him off, looking to Demetria. “Without your persistence, I wouldn’t have found her.” 
She smiled as he took her hand in hers. 
“I guess I can’t say no then,” Harvey remarked. 
_________________________________________________________________
Back at the penthouse, Bruce undid his tie as Demetria sat on the edge of the bed kicking off her heels.
“So, you’re really gonna throw a fundraiser for Harvey?” she asked. 
He looked over his shoulder at her. “Yeah. Why?”
 “Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s great you support him and the offer is so generous but...I mean, you just met the guy.” 
“I think he deserves one,” he shrugged.   
“But why now? Like he said, he’s not up for re-election for another three years.”
He put his tie in the drawer. “I think he’s what the city needs so why not garner future votes to keep him in office?” He turned to her. “Besides, it gives me an excuse to show off my gorgeous fiancé.”   
Demetria blushed as she tried reaching for the zipper on the back of her dress, struggling to latch on to the zipper. “Well, I’m sure your support will really...” She grunted. “Can you please help me?” 
Bruce went over to her and slowly zipped down the back. Demetria inhaled sharply, the cool breeze slowly hitting her bare back.
She glanced over her shoulder, a small smile on her lips. “Thank you.” 
When she went to step away, Bruce quickly grabbed her and tossed her on the bed, before climbing on top of her.
“Jesus, you could warn me next time,” Demetria giggled. “Not all of us spend our nights training like you do.” 
“But it’s so much more fun to surprise you.” 
His lips hovered over hers as she cupped his cheek with the palm of her hand.
“Tell me, did the guy from Student Government turn you on like I do?” Bruce whispered.”
“Oh my god,” she groaned, her cheeks flushing. She threw her hands over her face. “I’m gonna kill Harvey for telling you that.” 
Bruce moved his lips to her neck. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Demetria lifted her head up, removing her hands from her face. “I don’t remember! It was years ago!”
“I bet he didn’t make you cum like I do.” 
She made a face, pretending to think about it. “Well now that you bring it up, I think he did.” 
Bruce pulled back, fighting the playful smile on his lips “Wow.” 
She pointed a finger at him. “You started it!” 
“So that’s how we’re gonna do this..” 
“Are you going to fuck me or not because I don’t remember him taking this long to-.” 
Bruce shut her up by crashing his lip onto hers. He made damn sure she was gonna scream his name loud enough for the kid from Student Government to hear wherever he was.
_____________________________________________________________
She woke up to find herself alone in bed, curled up on her side as the sating sheets wrapped tightly around her nude body. She sighed and laid on her back, knowing Bruce was probably training at the gym.
As much as she loved him and was proud of him for being so dedicated, she wished some nights she could wake up and find him still there, still holding her. She wanted to see the way the moonlight reflected off his body as they went off in one of their deep talks.
But he was dedicated to what he did and she respected that. 
She grabbed her glass of water from the nightstand to find it empty. Tossing, the sheets off her, she made her way to the set of drawers Bruce bought for her and grabbed a pair of black yoga shorts and her old Gotham University hoodie. 
She then walked into the kitchen area and quietly filled her cup with water from the kitchen sink. Turning off the water after filling up, she took a quick sip before looking over her shoulder at the twinkling lights from other building lights. 
She wandered outside, gently closing the door behind her. Setting her glass on the ledge, she leaned over the railing and gazed as the city in front of her. 
While she never cared about Bruce luxurious lifestyle, she did love how his balcony had the best view of the city. She could get used to spending some quiet nights out here.
It was a fact that Gotham was its most dangerous during the nighttime, which Demetria found to be waste because in the right light, like the one she was currently looking at, the city could be absolutely breath taking at night. 
“You should be inside.”
She jumped, her arm flinging and knocking over the glass of water on the ground. 
“Fuck me,” she whispered. She then turned to her side to find Batman standing there. Her mouth hung open a jar, as she took in the sight before her. “Wow...”
“What?” His voice was rough, calloused, and almost hushed. 
“You’re just...bigger than I thought.” She folded her arms across her chest. “You’re also a lot more intimidating in person.” 
“I scare you?” 
She chuckled nervously. “Well, considering you show up and beat the shit out of people, I mean yeah. You are.” 
Silence fell as she waited for him to respond. “So are you gonna beat me up or...?” she joked, half-heartedly. 
Once again, no response. Her smile fell as she nodded her head awkwardly. “You’re not much for conversations, are you?” 
He didn’t respond, again. She pulled back her lips. “Well then, I’m going to get a broom and clean up the glass.” 
She went to turn around when she heard, “You’re the billionaire’s wife.” 
She turned to face him. “He has a name and so do I.” She paused. “Also, I’m his fiancé.” 
“But you’re going to be his wife.” 
“If you don’t kill me tonight, then yeah.” 
He made one step toward, causing her heart to drop to her stomach. She took a couple steps back. 
“I won’t hurt you,” he told her. 
“Then can you tell me why you’re here so I can go about my life and you can go take out some member of the mafia?” 
“Your life is valuable. Stay inside.” 
He then grabbed the railing and jumped off, Demetria leaning over to watch him soar off into the night. 
Running her hand through her hair, she let out a long sigh. “Jesus fucking christ.” 
She went inside and quietly went back inside to grab a broom and the garbage can. 
She cleaned up the glass, throwing the pieces in the garbage can. Putting the broom back in the kitchen closet and the garbage can away, she went back into the bedroom and closed the door. She turned on her bedside lamp and grabbed the remote, turning on the TV, settling on an old episode of “I Love Lucy.” 
_________________________________________________________
Bruce entered the apartment quietly, as though not to wake anyone. He quickly glanced over to find Demetria was no longer out on the balcony, a small wave of relief crashing over him. 
He’d made a promise to himself to keep Demetria away from Batman as best as he could; however, between the constant coverage the press was giving her and the copycats and the mob and their affiliates running around at night, he had to do what he could to protect her. 
He entered their bedroom to find the TV on and Demetria lying awake in bed. 
“What’re you doing up?” he asked, laying his gym bag on the floor. 
She pulled her knees to her chest. “If I told you, you’d think I was crazy.” 
He got into the bed and wrapped an arm around her. “Try me.” 
She sighed. “I met Batman.” 
He furrowed his eyebrows. “Really?”
“I was out on the balcony and he just showed up and, I don’t know, he just...he was strange.” 
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” 
 “No, no, no. He just told me I should stay inside because I’m apparently valuable.” She leaned her head against Bruce’s chest and sighed. “God, this city’s so fucking weird.” 
He chuckled. “It’s not all that bad.”
Her fingers gingerly ran through his hair lazily. “How was your workout? Any more injuries?” 
“It was fine and no, not a scratch on me.” 
“And last night’s scratches? They’re ok?” 
“Perfectly so.” His smile softened. “Thank you.” 
“For what?”  “For being you. For taking care of me.” 
She smiled. “Happy to help.”
“What would I do without you?”
She lifted her head up. “Fuck half the Moscow ballet?”
Bruce shook his head, laughter escaping his lips. “I love you, Demetria.”
“I love you too, Bruce.”
He kissed her forehead before turning his eyes to the TV. “ ‘I Love Lucy’?” 
“I couldn’t go back to sleep.” 
She reached over for the remote on the bed when Bruce grabbed it first. He turned up the volume a bit, pulling Demetria closer to him. She threw one arm over him as they watched the show together.
Bruce knew his days as Batman would eventually end and when they did, he couldn’t wait to spend a normal night curled up with his wife watching a mindless show. 
Those days were coming soon, at he least hoped they would. 
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jungshookz · 4 years
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so did ballet jimin and y/n get any... closer on valentines day?? I know that you said you would never write a full fic on them but we the audience would like to see them finally get together or a smut 😔🥺
y/n can barely look jimin in the eye right now so i wouldn’t expect any sMUT any time soon but here’s a suRPRISE DRABBLE-
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➺ pairing; park jimin x reader
➺ genre; balletteacher!jiminiverse!!! fluff :-)
➺ wordcount: 1.6k 
➺ what to expect; just because he’s single doesn’t mean he has to be so bitter on a day that’s dedicated to expressing your love for your significant other.
➺ readings: part one; part two 
➺ note; every time i tell myself the balletteacher!jimin storyline isn’t going anywhere my brain spazzes and couGhs out another chunk of the story so i’m retracting my statement of ‘i’m never going to give them a fic’ and replacing that with ‘idk????? mAYBE????? but IDK!!!!!! probably not but also probably yES??’ ok bye please accept this short drabble that’s too long to be a baby drabble  
                                 »»————- ♡ ————-««
jimin completely forgot about the existence of valentine’s day because:
a) why the hell would he remember it in the first place and
b) there literally is nO point of valentine’s day??
like why can’t you prove your love to your significant other on any other day??? why does it have to be february 14th specifically??
so yeah that’s his general take on valentine’s day
the only good thing to come out of valentine’s day is the next day when all the chocolates and candies go on sale
one of his guilty pleasures are those decadent chocolate-covered strawberries
he thinks there should be a day dedicated to eating chocolate-covered strawberries
now thAT he would celebrate and cancel class for
but valentine’s day?
hAH
nope
basicaLLy you guys usually come in three times a week (monday, wednesday, friday) and valentine’s day just so happened to fall on a friday which, in his defence, is completely out of his control
and yeah he knows that some of you were disappointed to find that he hadn’t cancelled class but he aLso knows that no one’s going to pipe up and argue with him because you’re all terrified of him
with that being said he does feel a teeny bit bad
before class on wednesday he heard a couple girls talking about how they had to cancel their plans with their significant others and how it suCked that they were going to be stuck here dancing all night instead of going to the movies or going to a nice dinner oR getting laid lol
unrelated: he noticed that you didn’t contribute anything to the conversation when everyone was going around sharing what their would-be valentine’s day plans were
either you’re very secretive or you’re single
and he’s hoping it’s the latter
which he thinks is 98% the case because of the incident (“i would 100% love to sit on park jimin’s face because i, y/n y/l/n, am 110% attracted to him.”)
anyways
yeah
he felt a liTTLe bad
just because he’s single doesn’t mean he has to be so bitter on a day that’s dedicated to expressing your love for your significant other
…which is why he bought a dozen single-stemmed roses aNd he tied a little satin bag containing two hershey kisses to each rose
at first he was just going to get everyone red roses but then he thought that thAt was crossing a line of professionalism so then he settled on light pink
to be honest he felt a little silly on the drive to class because he feels like doing this is going to make him seem less authoritative and make you guys leSS scared of him
but it’s fine
he’ll just yell at someone and then his power will fall right back into his hands
“now, i’m well aware that today is valentine’s day.” jimin clears his throat as he sets the basket full of roses down on the ground
he can see all of your eyes flicking in between him and the flowers
“and i know that some of you had plans tonight that had to be cancelled because of class,” jimin continues on and notices you getting up on your tip toes to peek over lisa’s shoulder at the basket
cute :’)
wait what
uh
he means.,,. um,..,
noTHING
“contrary to popular belief, i do have a sympathetic bone in my body.” that gets a chuckle out of some people but everyone shuts up promptly when jimin raises a brow
“so everyone gets a rose and some chocolates from me as a…” jimin pauses and thinks for a second “as an i’m-sorry-happy-valentine’s-day hybrid… gift? i’m also giving you twenty minutes to sit around and… talk… to each other, or… whatever it is you do when i’m not around.”
he clears his throat again
he can see the confusion swimming in everyone’s eyes
god
why is being nice so HARD
“what i’m saying is that today is… less about dancing - we’ll stiLL be dancing i’m not saying that class is cancelled - and more about… i don’t know. being… together? i guess?” he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly
coughs
“you know what, just- just talk amongst yourselves while i hand these friggin flowers out. dispErse.” jimin flicks his wrist and everyone immediately relaxes from the stiff first position you have to stay in when jimin’s talking
“i’m not gonna lie, that was painful to watch.” wendy mutters under her breath and you stifle a giggle
“aw, give him a break, he’s trying to be nice for once!” ailee teases as a couple of you get settled on the ground
it is actually really nice of him to do this
the nicest thing he’s ever done for the class was that one time he extended the mid-class break by one minute
you’re barely paying attention to the conversation because your eyes keep wandering over to jimin as he hands out the flowers to everyone
most of the girls are getting all blushy and giggly before they’re curtseying to him
as he approaches your group you scramble up from the floor before you get the chance to fix one of your leg warmers (they’re heaRT patterned!!!!!) so now one is pulled up the other one is still pushed down
but it’s too late to fix it because mr park is here so
“thank you, mr park.” seulgi offers him what yoU think are painfully obvious bedroom eyes and you resist the urge to scoff
of course you can’t call her out on it because then she’s going to say something about how you’re just jealous because you have a crush on him blah blah blah
which you DO but you’re not planning to actually admit that to anyone anytime soon
you’re still trying to get everyone off your back about the incident
right now everyone thinks you only said you had a crush on jimin just to get seulgi to pipe down and you’re just going with that because you can’t imagine the merciless teasing if people find out you actually like jimin 
the jokes have died down a little bit but everyone’s going to remember that day for the rest of their lives
like the other day jisoo came to class wearing a new lipstick and you said it was pretty on her and then she proceeded to ask if she was pretty enough for you to want to sit on her face  and everyone found that hiLARIOUS
“-i hope you don’t mind, miss y/l/n-“ you straighten up when jimin gets to you
“sir?” 
you almost let out a fond sigh when he smiles lightly at you 
he’s just so unbelievably handsome 
you’re the last in line and everyone else is (as instructed) talking amongst themselves anD enjoying their chocolates
“there weren’t enough pink roses in the store…” jimin trails off and you let your eyes drop for a split second
oh
well
that’s okay!
it’s the thought that counts
you try to hide your disappointment but jimin notices the way your shoulders droop just a tiny bit
“which is why i got you a lavender one. i know it’s not a traditional colour, but…” jimin presents you with the baby purple rose and you feel your entire boDy spring back to life
suddenly you feel your cheeks tingling with heat and your heart starts to pound in your chest as you accept the rose from him
“it’s very pretty, mr park. thank you.” you smile politely and give it a sniff
roses always smell so goOd
“ah- uh, yes. you’re welcome.”
“happy valentine’s day, mr park.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and your eyes widen a little bit
oops
was that inappropriate?? 
because it felt inappropriate even though today is literally valentine’s day
and it looks like jimin wasn’t expecting that either considering the slight flush on his face
you’re about to start apologising profuSELY and you’re [this] close to returning the rose before he-
“…happy valentine’s day, miss y/l/n.” he smiles fondly and falters for a second before nodding once and walking off
“god, you can tell these are the expensive roses, too.” seulgi sighs as she gives her flower another heArty whiff
“ooh, i found it!” jisoo raises her phone and everyone turns to look at her
class ended ten minutes ago and everyone’s packing up now and wendy was wondering what light pink roses represented just out of curiosity so jisoo volunteered to look it up 
“associated with gentleness and admiration, light pink roses lets the receiver know that they are a pleasure to behold – an indication of joy. light pink roses can also be used to express sympathy and saying thank you.” everyone immediately bursts into coos of adoration
“oh my god, he’s so sweet…”
“i think i’m, like, actually in love with him!”
“when he handed me my rose i actually considered breaking up with my boyfriend-“
“oh my god sAME-“
you make sure your rose is tucked safely away in your duffle bag before you pull your phone out
time to do your oWn google searching
aH
okay
here it is 
‘the lavender rose is often a sign of enchantment and love at first sight. those who have been enraptured by feelings of love and adoration have used lavender roses to express their romantic feelings and intentions.’
you swallow thickly as you feel your heart flutter in your chest
oh boy
(jimin just hopes you bought his excuse)
(of couRSE the store didn’t run out of light pink roses)
help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)
requested drabbles masterlist
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HSMTMTS 2x12: Don't say we'll have to let it go...
After a very stressful morning and several moments in which I was close to a full sanity slip completely unrelated to this, it is high time (heck, it's the highest of times, if you know what I mean) I got to the new HSMTMTS, the last one for a while.
I'm honestly scared, though. This morning I thought nothing could make me more nervous today than the whole ordeal I had to go through, but now that I'm here, I'm super scared and anxious. I don't even want to say it, but... what if this is... you know what I'm thinking. We're all thinking it. I just hope we're wrong in a good way.
I feel like I might die of anxiety, so I guess I'll just dive in. Whatever will be, will be.
Supportive Nini is best Nini. Honestly, I haven't liked her all season as much as I do now. The background, behind-the-scenes role seems to fit her a lot better than the lead. I hope to see more of her like this when (fingers crossed!!!) the show comes back.
Ashlyn, on the other hand, is a perfect lead. She was born for this, and it shows. It shows so much that everybody has finally noticed it. They took their time, didn't they?
Ugh, I hate, hate, hate this kind of moment that happens every time when someone has prepared a surprise for someone else — and we saw that twice this season — once with Carlos at his Quinceañero, and now with Ashlyn. I mean the moment before they find out about the surprise and they feel like they've been forgotten and it's all so sad... at least I know whatever my boy Reddy has planned for his girl will make up for that sort of feeling. I can't wait!
Ahhhhh @redlyncentral you called it! You called it big time! I can't say I wasn't expecting it to be something like this, though, because I trust your sixth sense more than I trust mine — and I trust mine a lot. Also, if anyone deserves to have their name in lights, it's Ashlyn. And remember when she told Big Red that, to make things light up, he just had to walk into a room? Or when he told her that the only thing he'd throw at her was a brighter spotlight? You know, I think that, just like airports are Portwell's thing, lights are Redlyn's thing. And that is so beautiful... I am legitimately crying.
Yikes... see, it's one thing when Nini calls Ricky 'Richard'. But it's another thing entirely when Kourtney calls Howie 'Howard'. Gosh, I hope they clear things up. If Howie has something to say (as in, some secret to come clean about, if you catch my drift), he'd better do it now. I was never too invested in Kowie, but it still hurts to see tension between them.
Ok, but... these two are too dorky for words! I mean, you're telling me Howie was acting that way just because of how nervous Kourtney's talent made him? Oh well, I feel like I can understand that, actually. She's a powerhouse. But also, everyone around here needs to learn a lesson or two from Redlyn. About communication, reciprocity, expression of feelings... it's no accident that they're the parents of the drama club. But this is not about them. Oh, who am I kidding? With me, everything is about them. Unless it's about Seblos or Portwell. Never mind. Moving on.
I am trying very hard not to have a visible or audible reaction because my brother is in the room and I'm supposed to be working, but... EJ had his dad put in a good word for Mr Mazzara at Caltech. And that is something that makes me feel feelings I can't very easily put into words. Also, what does that mean for Mr M's future at East High?
As clear as the imprint of Jamie's words is to see on EJ's face, I feel like he's not giving up on Portwell quite yet. 'Play it by ear' sounded quite promising to me, all things considered.
Not Ricky and Nini writing the same thing in slightly different words... again! I absolutely get why people ship them, at least on the surface level I do, but I really can't see them as a couple anymore. That is not to say, however, that I'm not rooting for them on their way to figuring out how to be 'just' friends. (See, I'm not a big fan of the expression 'just friends', as if it's something less than a romantic relationship, so...) They could be the best friends ever. If, and only if they learn to communicate properly. All kinds of relationships require good communication. I feel like I'm saying that a lot, but, you know, if it's true...
I can't look at Miss Jenn the same way after last week's episode. The Menkies have turned her, quite frankly, into a monster. She's too obsessed with beating Zacky Roy to notice how she's treating her students who have always been nothing but devoted to her and the play. Well, some of them anyway... I feel like it's time for Carlos to reconsider his opinion of her... and I know it must be painful, and the least thing I'd ever wish for him is pain, but... sometimes certain painful things are necessary. I just hope everyone comes out of this alright. I think I might not, though. I've been crying for a while already.
No... why is Gina crying? My girl needs a hug... Oh, here comes Nini. This seems like it's been a long time coming.
This was beautiful... only one character played by an actress named Olivia will be redeemed today. And it's the right one, if I do say so myself.
Alright, who called it? Gina connecting Nini with her brother about her music, I mean. I know for a fact someone here called it. If you happen to be that genius and you read this, please come forward in the notes to get the credit you deserve. This is... a little too perfect to be true, but I feel like it's the best way to connect and wrap up several storylines with one blow. And I love when that happens. Gosh, why does this feel like a series finale? Please tell me I'm wrong. I am not ready. I will never be ready. Ok, maybe one day I will be, but not anytime soon. Please tell me my feeling is deceiving me this time.
Oh, good, it's being addressed. The 'jump off of something high' comment, I mean. It would have been wrong not to address it. I kind of really liked the way they did it, too. Also, 'getting there' really is the most accurate answer to the question whether Ricky is happy. I feel like he's got a long way to go before he does get there, but he really is closer to that destination than he's been in a while. This boy deserves all the happiness. He's been through way too much. And I'm glad Miss Jenn is finally seeing her part in his struggles throughout the year.
Ahhh it's the song! I've been so excited for it all week, ever since that teaser leaked. But, once again: why does this feel like a finale? I want to curb my anxiety and watch this episode with a free mind, but the episode itself just isn't helping me. Ok, let's go back to the song for now. Whatever will be, will be.
No... EJ's verse... just no. Somebody tell that boy not to be so hung up on the words of somebody who doesn't even know who Gina is today. I've had 'the majestic S.S. Portwell' for a couple of weeks and I'm not ready for it not setting sail after it was almost out of the... port(well). Have I ever told you I make bad puns when I'm anxious?
Carlos doesn't even remember being on stage... that's too relatable to be overlooked. See, I used to perform on stage (I've decided to quit for good now and it makes me cry only slightly), and that has always been how I've felt about it. I feel like my favourites are who they are because I relate to each one of them to an extent — some are who I think I am, some are who I used to be, and some are who I wish I could become... and so much more on top. I'm being so emotional. I'm not ready to let these kids go. Please someone tell me I won't have to, at least not quite yet.
The Wildcats' reaction to... Capital-B-witch and Fake-French-Git-who-is-apparently-French-for-real (as I've taken to calling those two because calling them by their real names would mean showing them respect which they don't deserve) was exactly the same as mine. No one invited them there. They're not supposed to be there. Someone kick them out.
'Big Red... you were... also there!' Um, excuse you, he was not just 'there'! I mean, I know we didn't get to see him on stage (we've been robbed!!!), but I'm sure he was the most amazing LeFou to ever grace a theatre stage. That being said, we have been robbed! But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I want to see what Big Red's reaction will be. I've been fantasising about this moment for weeks now.
Ok... so I said a couple of weeks ago, in my post on 2x10, that Ricky has been given a chance to prove what kind of friend he is right then and there... and, well, this wasn't exactly how I envisioned it, but it was nice. I think that's the word for it. Nice. Ricky is just too nice to do what I kept seeing in my fantasy. And Big Red is doubly too nice to do it. But I... I surprise myself sometimes with how aggressive I can get in defence of other people. Maybe it's better this way than my way.
Did that capital-B-witch just say what I thought I heard her say? Because there's no way she just said that. Also, 'sometimes people deserve a second chance'... well, yeah. And sometimes they don't, you... well, I don't use words like that, but you guys can put two and two together, right?
'I'd trade it all for this group right here tonight'... me too, Eej, me too. I'm not even going to pretend I'm not crying because, guess what, I'm bloody bawling my eyes out! I kind of stopped for a moment when you-know-who and her second-in-command came in, but now I'm crying again. I am so not ready to let these kids go.
So... they're dropping out? Just like that? Well, that was anticlimactic! But hey, I absolutely get it. That's the Wildcat spirit, after all, isn't it? They did win already. They won something that some of North High's students can never understand. And that's more important than just about anything. [side note: I've got to say I appreciate the fact that my boy Reddy is now able to joke about his opening night predicament. See, that's another thing I relate to. I go through the craziest stuff, and then I laugh and tell stories to anyone who will listen. And I think that's the best approach to that kind of stuff. I just wish I could be less dramatic about the little things, too. It seems to me it's easier to laugh about the big, serious stuff once it's over, but not about some things that most people would deem unworthy of their attention. But hey, I'm working on that. Also, this post is not supposed to be about me. Moving on.]
Bless Ashlyn and the fact that she's good at communication. Even if she's a little late. She's not too late yet. Portwell might still be saved.
No, Ricky, you so did not just call you-know-who! I will not stand for any of that. Unless it's to shut her off once and for all, in which case I say go for it and go full steam. But why do I get the feeling it's not going to be like that? Ok, never mind, let's set that one aside and focus on Portwell for a second.
Ok, that was... that was going to be so beautiful, and then they cut it off. Is Portwell about to be Redlyn 2.0? Oh well, if it really is, that isn't going to be so bad after all. But now all I can think about is... when are we getting the renewal? How am I supposed to sleep at night until we know for sure?
Not them making me cry with a BTS montage... as if I wasn't crying hard enough already. I'm not alone in the house, you guys! In fact, we're having a bunch of guests from overseas in... wait, I think they're at the door. I'm not ready for people! Not now. Pray for me, you guys! (In all seriousness, though, don’t pray for me. Pray for a season 3 announcement to come soon)
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browniefox · 3 years
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Just Sit and Talk to Me
@wrightfamilyweek day 5 - Love Language. I'm not sure if I really captured this prompt, but I definitely gave it a try! You can read this chapter on AO3 here if that's more your style.
Trucy struggles with being a very young professional while also being a student.
oOo
“No, no, no! It’s not supposed to go like that!”
Trucy shouts up to the ceiling. The nice thing about living out of an office is that it actually seems to be better to be loud after-hours, because everybody has already left. Trucy’s now old enough it’s started to seem a bit more weird that they’re even allowed to live in the office. She asked Daddy about it once, and he said that he has some kind of agreement with the landlord, and doesn’t elaborate. Trucy imagines this must be like the Delites, or Gummy and Maggey, or anybody else that Daddy knows from his Lawyer days, where he helped them out over something, and now they’re trying to do the best they can to help him, even if he doesn’t like getting help. It makes as much sense as anything else does.
Anyway, that’s all to say that Trucy doesn’t feel bad about shouting at late'o clock and stomping her feet around. The nice thing about being raised as a magician is that she knows a lot of neat tricks. The not so nice thing about your magical family falling apart is that you have to figure out more tricks on your own. And the only performance you were a part of when you were in the troupe was helping your Daddy run away from the cops and giving your new Daddy the piece of evidence that got him disbarred.
See, Trucy isn’t a kid anymore. She’s a Teenager, and she can’t rely on her cuteness to keep her going for ever, nor the fact that she’s the only Gramarye still performing; nobody, including her, has heard from Uncle Valant in five years. She may have that Gramarye magic, that special spark, but the problem is that a spark doesn’t make performance. Practice, preparation, and creativity makes a performance.
And right now, Trucy doesn’t have much of a performance.
All she has is broken little pieces that aren’t working together, and she’s getting tired of trying to stick them together with glue.
“I hate it! I hate performing! I hate magic! I hate this!” Trucy shouts and stomps around her room because she can.
She feels drained, and tired, and maybe if she hasn’t been spending soooo much time studying for the end-of-year tests, she’d be a bit more focused, but she also doesn’t want to let her daddy down so she has to get good grades but then if she’s focusing on getting good grades how is she supposed to put together her summer show and-and-and-
“I HATE THIS!” Trucy screams, pulling at her hair.
“Truce?”
Trucy freezes where she stands and looks at the clock. It’s already midnight? When did it get that late? There’s a knocking on her door, one she hadn’t heard before but has the cadence of something that had already been done a few times before now, having a bit of urgency behind it.
“Truce, you okay in there?”
“Y-yeah Daddy! I’m fine! Just, um, just part of the-the uh, the show!” She calls back. She doubts even the worst competitors Daddy has played poker against would fall for her lie right now, and her daddy definitely doesn’t.
“Can I come in?”
“Just, um, just give me a minute!”
Trucy runs around her room, shoving the ripped props that hadn’t survived her most recent mess-up of the runthrough into her closet and the background details under bed. She checks her mirror, trying to see if she looks well put together. She has some dark circles under eyes, and there’s no time to put some make-up on to conceal it, but she can hide her frazzled hair with her hat. Her cape is all wrinkled, but she can fix that in the morning. She puts on her most dazzling smile, already knowing that this is a losing fight, that this isn’t going to work, but what other choice does she have but to try?
“Okay Daddy, you can come in!” She chirps and Daddy comes in. He has dark circles under his own eyes too, and Trucy knows that normally, if she hadn’t been screaming and drawn his attention, he would’ve gone into the office room and started working on his Secret Project for a couple more hours before going to bed.
“Is everything okay?” He asks in that voice where he clearly already knows the answer but is giving her the chance to just Tell Him.
“Y-yeah, everything’s fine, Daddy.”
Daddy frowns, and he fiddles with the little green charm he likes to wear around his wrist or neck, one she’s seen the Feys wear before. He comes into her room and sits down on her bed, looking at her patiently.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He presses.
“Not really.” She tries to sound defiant but she just sounds sad.
“Please, sweetie? You can talk to Daddy about anything, you know?”
“... I don’t think I can do this.” She says, small and quiet, barely more than a whisper. She almost expects her First Daddy to burst through the door right then and there, appalled and affronted.
“Do what?”
“Be… me .” She scrambles and fails to find a way to explain it. Because being a magician isn’t just something she can stop doing. Trucy Wright is a Magician, it’s written in her blood, but just thinking about trying to put together her show makes her want to scream again. Considering taking a ‘break’ and doing homework instead gets the same internal response.
How is she supposed to make either of her Daddy’s happy?
“Oh, Trucy.” Daddy says and pulls her into his lap. She doesn’t fit as perfectly there as she used to, and she finds herself hesitating before clinging to him. He’s so tired all the time, she doesn’t want to put this on him. It’s dumb, because it’s not a ‘want to’, these things are a ‘have to’. She has to do them. But she doesn’t want to, it feels like she’s getting crushed by it.
“I don’t want to take dumb tests! I don’t want to revamp my show! I don’t want to do anything!” She shouts into his shoulder. Daddy rubs her back.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. What’s so bad about those things?”
“Everything!” She wails.
“C’mon, it can’t be everything.”
She curls up further into a ball, making another frustrated noise, but her daddy’s presence, like it always does, is already doing wonders to clear her cluttered-up head. He has this way, where it’s like sometimes he can just take a hold of the cluttered-up mess in her head and lay it out plain and simple. But only if she lets him. There’s been times, where he’s stared at her, and asked her quiet little questions, and she’s made it plain to him that she doesn’t want to be doing this right now, and he’s sighed and left her to it.
“... there’s not enough time,” She explains. Daddy doesn’t say anything waiting for her to continue on, “Not enough time to-to-to do everything! I… Daddy, I need to get my summer show ready, and I need to study for tests, and keep up on homework, and then I need to perform twice a week, and… Daddy, where did all the time go?”
“If I knew, I wish I could tell ya.” Daddy sighes with his entire being, like he’s wilting into her. Trucy tries to curl up even tighter, like it’s just a matter of a little trick in order to turn into being an eight-year-old again, and able to be carried around by her Daddy if she needed to be.
“Daddy, I… I don’t wanna…” Trucy isn't sure what she’s trying to say, and the words get all tangled and caught up in her throat.
“Well… let’s start with what we have power over, yeah? You can’t stop going to school, so after tomorrow night’s show, we’ll go talk to Mr. Wunderbar and tell him you need to take a break from performing.” Daddy decides. Trucy gasps, tugging on his hoodie.
“No! But, Daddy, I’m finally doing two shows a week-”
“Truce, it’s okay,” Daddy pulls back and cups Trucy’s face in his hands. It’s only been recently, since she finally became a teenager, she’d been allowed to do more shows, “You’re still a little girl, you need time to be a little girl. So, how about until the end of the school year, no more shows. In the summer, maybe we’ll think about doing more? Once a month at first?”
“B-but-” Trucy starts to complain. Daddy taps her nose.
“Sorry pumpkin, but I might have to put my foot down on this one. No more shows until Summer. I can help you try and put your next one together, if you’d like, but right now we get through one thing, and then we tackle the next, okay?
“But I’m a teenager now! And-and-and I finally get to do two shows a week! And the mo-” Trucy’s teeth clack shut. There’s that joke about Trucy being the money-maker, the bread-winner, of their small family, but she was sure Daddy didn’t know that she was aware of just how true that was. Daddy does, indeed, blink in surprise, and then something akin to sadness falls over his face. Shame, perhaps? If it is, it’s a different color than what used to come over him those first couple years when people asked him about his old lawyer profession.
“... we’ll get through without, Trucy. I’m not letting anything happen to us. You need to come first, in front of that, okay?”
Trucy opens her mouth to argue again, but she’s so tired, and Daddy’s so tired, and a break? A break from five straight years of performances…? It sounds kind of nice.
She sits in her Daddy’s lap, marinating in his idea, coming to terms with it. Daddy doesn’t say anything more.
And it feels like a night of honestly, and truth, and reality, and so, tripping across Trucy’s tongue and off her lips is a truth she never tries to say, because her daddy is just so so busy.
“I wish you were home more.”
“...”
“I like talking to you, and being with you, and you’re always at work, or working on your secret project, and there’s nobody else to talk to about these kinds of stuff. I… I miss you, Daddy, even when you’re here.” She admits. She looks at her Daddy’s face, and his eyes do that thing where they fix on a spot below her face, and a shiver runs through him.
“... there we go.” He says, but he doesn’t sound happy about it.
“If we’re going to, to change things about my routine and everything, can we… can we change things… so that you’re home more?”
Daddy isn’t looking her in the eyes, looking down at her bed comforter.
“We’ll talk about it in the morning? Huh?”
Trucy holds onto her Daddy for a bit longer.
She’s heard comments from parents at school, picking their kids up, about watching their kids grow up and grow away from them. Trucy feels a little like she’s seeing the exact opposite happening slowly through these past five years.
She lost her first Daddy all at once, and her new Daddy is slipping through her fingers like sand.
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