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#we had to go through multiple blocked off sections of the buildings for some reason and we eventually came across this old empty room where
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🥀 / 🌙(?)
#i had a dream about jaehyun#trying to teach me and two other people about meanings of words when theyre written backwards and honestly it was all bullshit#suddenly theres a fucking huge ass snake by his legs and he holds it down while we call for help and i stay there with him#when one of the two people returned; my dog Kuya was with them and he was barking bc there was another snake that was much smaller and#and it was having like a staredown with my dog until ANOTHER snake of a different size and variety came out and started chasing after Kuya#Jaehyun accidentally lets go of the big snake and it tried to go to me so I ran#and i found this weird bc im not afraid of snakes if i know its not poisonous and i ran up these stairs where the other smaller snake that#had chased my dog was there and it sprung itself onto me and i obviously freak out and i wake myself up#does anyone know what this means :(#its been weeks (probably months) since i had a nightmare i had to wake myself up from#and to make it worse i had another nightmare right after#where my friends and jaehyun (im honestly really glad he keeps popping up) were in SNR (like Costco) and we were going around and trying to#look for things to buy but it turns out this SNR was actually built on an abandoned school and they didnt take down those parts of the#building yet so i wanted to explore but at the same#not really bc im aware im dreaming and it could turn to a nightmare (and it did) and this is where it starts;#i ran into my older sister and shes doinng grocery shopping for us and from the corner of my eye i see the pet supplies aisle and i tell her#we should buy a sack of dog food for the dogs and shes like fine but pay half of it#we had to go through multiple blocked off sections of the buildings for some reason and we eventually came across this old empty room where#a ghost was whispering but she was actually by the door and when i saw her idk my instinct was to attack and she looked so appalled that she#started fighting back too and she was slowly starting to morph into what i guess was her original form and before that could happen#i woke myself up again and this was hard this time bc in the dream she had her hands on my shoulders and in reality#i couldnt sit upright for a few seconds like someone was holding me down#i still had another nightmare after that again but its like a third POV of my sister and her friends exploring the same abandoned building#which is weird bc my sister would NEVER do that since she cant even watch horror/suspense/thriller movies#i feel completely drained after these dreams#i was supposed to run an errand for my other sister but ill be asking her if i could do it tomorrow instead
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spideyhexx · 3 years
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take a chance on me - b.b.
here's something I wrote for @buckyblues 4k writing challenge! I've been wanting to get back into writing, so here's my first go at it :)
using the song prompt "take a chance on me by abba." @edenslibrary
be sure to let me know what you think :) reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated 😊
bucky barnes x reader
summary: bucky has a crush on you. he's doubtful of himself, messes up, but turns it around.
WARNINGS: sfw. fluffy. some tiny tiny angst. bucky being self deprecating. huge hate of chekhov. bookstore owner!reader.
word count: 2.3k
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Bucky replays his conversation with you a billion times within the couple of minutes it takes for him to walk from the quaint little book shop to his apartment.
After his favorite bookstore closed, Bucky took to finding a new one and stumbled upon the Murky Lime. He thought the name was strange, a little off putting, but as soon as he walked in, Bucky knew he was going to enjoy spending his afternoons there. It always smelled like hazelnut or vanilla, a scent he found so incredibly comforting that he bought a hazelnut scented candle for his home. Although it was a small shop, the shelves were loaded with books and he was able to find a hidden corner to sit down and read for a couple of hours, unbothered.
Not to mention the pretty girl that worked at the main desk and seemed to be the owner. You were there every afternoon that Bucky stopped by. He noticed how you would paint your nails when there weren’t as many customers. How kind your words were to anyone who asked for help. It took him a couple of weeks to work up the courage to ask you to help him find a book, even though he knew exactly where it was.
Bucky remembers when he complimented your bracelet and you smiled, stuttering out a thank you. The first time he saw you nervous. It gave him hope that maybe you were into him, but Bucky pushed away those thoughts as quickly as they came.
He couldn’t fathom how someone would truly want to be with him. Besides, he had enough on his plate, what with helping Sam on whatever mission he called him on and dealing with the occasional nightmare that haunted his mind.
That’s why he keeps on replaying the conversation. And cursing at himself for being so stupid.
“Hey Bucky!” Your words were cheerful, causing heat to rise up on his cheeks. You loved how a simple greeting seemed to get him all flustered. He’s still not used to even hearing his name come from your lips.
“How’re you doing, doll?” He lets the endearment slip, hoping he’d get to see you smile, and you do, before turning away and pointing at a box.
“I’m alright! And if you don’t mind, and you can totally say no, but I got a whole new set of Chekhov plays and I need to bring them to the play section, which is the furthest point from here and the box is a bit too heavy and I was going to make multiple trips but now you’re here and-”
“Of course I’ll help,” Bucky responded, chuckling at your babbling. You sighed, secretly hating your rambling habit, but it was hard not to when a handsome man was standing in front of you.
“I thought you hated Chekhov?” Bucky asked, picking up the box and following you to the play section.
“Oh I do, but a customer has been calling in for the last three weeks, asking if we have Chekhov and I thought I should finally put my Chekhov hating ass aside to appease the people who adore him,” you told him.
You couldn’t remember when you told Bucky you hated Chekhov, but you did not necessarily need to say it for someone to understand your distaste for the author.
“Or they could’ve just gone to a different bookstore,” Bucky mumbled, but you heard and let out a laugh. He put the box down and leaned against the opposite book shelf, hoping you would continue talking to him as you put the books away.
“So, I had another question for you,” you said, sneaking one glance at him before looking away.
“Go for it.”
“I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime? Not sure where but we could just go get some coffee? Or go out to dinner?”
This was it, the penultimate moment Bucky had been dreaming about ever since he laid eyes on you. Yet his mouth began speaking before he could really take it in.
“Um, no,” he said, immediately widening his eyes at your expression. Your mouth dropped to say something, but you weren’t sure what to even say.
“I mean, I don’t know. I don’t think I can, right now, maybe?” You raised an eyebrow at him and smiled softly.
“It’s okay to say no, Bucky.”
“I know that, I know. I think I’m just not ready right now,” he said, his voice quieter as he said the last part. His brain was screaming at him to retract everything he had just said to you and to tell you he would go on a date, but Bucky could not do it. He already felt like he had failed and saw no point in trying.
“That’s okay. But...if you ever change your mind, let me know, I’d still be down,” you said.
You were slightly disappointed, but understood his reasoning even if he didn't give you an exact one.
Ever since he first came to your shop, you knew exactly who the tall, blue eyed man was. It was hard trying to comprehend everything James Bucky Barnes had gone through. You knew asking him out might’ve been a big step from having occasional small talk. A small part of you hoped he would take a chance on you someday.
...
Bucky throws his jacket haphazardly onto the couch as soon as he gets home, not caring that it ends up falling to the floor. He lights the candle on the kitchen counter and collapses onto the couch face first, letting out the sigh that was building up in him ever since he left the Murky Lime.
How could he do that? Was he actually not ready to date? He told himself he wasn’t, that’s why he felt like he had to say no to your date. But god, does Bucky want to go out with you and hold your hand and kiss your cheek. He hasn’t felt this feeling in a long while.
All the therapy sessions with Dr. Raynor flood his mind. The ones where she encouraged him to try dating and finding new friends but he brushed it off, feeling like he was unworthy of it. How could a sweet girl like you see something in him, he simply did not understand it. But you liked him enough to ask him on a date and he fucking said no.
Bucky sends Sam a quick text that’s more like an entire paragraph explaining the situation and what he should do. He throws his phone to the other side of the couch and drops his head into his hands. His phone pings a few seconds later and Bucky scrambles to grab it.
I think you’re just afraid of dating buck. You’re definitely ready, you’ve done so much work to be yourself again and I’ve seen that in you. If you like her AND she mentioned still going out if you changed your mind??? Go get her, man. Take the chance. If it doesn’t work out and you really aren’t ready, then that’s okay too. But it’s clearly eating you up that you said no, so just go to her.
...
You button up your coat and stuff your phone into your pocket, straining your head to the side to double check the time. Closing the store required a particular routine that you perfected, but you did not expect to see Bucky’s face at the front door. He did not notice you looking at him and you see the hesitation in his hands before he opens the door.
“Hey,” he says, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.
“Hello again.” Bucky gives you a stiff grin and rocks on his feet for a few moments. The silence is deafening and it’s just about too awkward for you to handle.
“Is there uh..something you want?” He glances up and your eyes lock with his pretty blue eyes. You feel like you could gaze into them all day.
“Yeah, if you’re still up for it, I would like to go on that date with you. I’ve been afraid to put myself out there, but you’re so kind and beautiful..” his words trail off and he’s distracted for a moment at how you’re biting your lip nervously.
“I wanted to take a chance, so yes, let’s go on a date.”
“Do you wanna go now?” Bucky raises his brow and nods. You run to the back door to make sure it’s locked. When you come back, you see that Bucky took it upon himself to turn a few of the lights off and he hands you your purse.
“What a gentleman, huh?” He blushes and moves to open the door for you. You lock it up and turn to him.
“Does a walk in the park sound like a good idea?”
“Perfect.”
Since it was almost evening time, the park was not as busy. Bucky prefers it that way, and you do too. He’s so close to you, you can smell the little bit of cologne he must’ve put on. You want to tease him for it but decide not to. Instead, you purposely brush your hand against his own and Bucky immediately takes your hand in his.
“Maybe after this we could get dinner,” Bucky suggests.
“That would be nice. You can pick where.” Bucky thinks for a moment before responding.
“There’s this diner..a couple of blocks from your shop actually. It was there back in….you know.” Now that he’s thinking about it, he wasn’t sure you knew. He doesn’t wear gloves to hide his vibranium arm anymore and it’s an easy google search but you never showed any indication you knew about his past.
“I know about your past, Bucky. I won’t ask anything about it if-”
“No, it’s okay. I can talk about it.”
You nod. You're not planning to scour his brain about the haunting details of his life as the Winter Soldier, but you were curious about his life before that.
“Does it look the same as it did back then? The diner, I mean.”
“For the most part. There’s some newer technology in there and updated furniture but the style is all the same. It’s kind of nice to go somewhere familiar.”
The two of you walk over to an empty bench and take a seat. Your hands are still intertwined, resting on Bucky’s thigh.
“One more question about the 30s and 40s and then we can head on over to the diner,” you say, making Bucky laugh and nod his head at you to continue.
“How were dates back then? Like would you do the same thing we’re doing now or was there anything different?”
“It’s mostly the same,” he tells you. Bucky looks down at your hand, admiring how you rub your thumb against his hand.
“But there were these dances. I haven’t seen anything like them nowadays.”
“I think the closest thing we have to that is nightclubs. I’m gonna assume that is not your scene,” you say, giggling at his disgusted expression.
“It isn’t. I like forties music. I tried to listen to newer stuff and it’s not all terrible, but still not my favorite. I don’t think anyone in a nightclub will play Tommy Dorsey or Dinah Shore.” You ponder that for a moment as he turns to observe what else is going on in the park.
Quickly, you take out your phone.
“What are you doing?” All you do is smile at him, setting your phone down on the bench and standing up in front of him. He raises an eyebrow suspiciously as you hold your hand out.
“Mr. Barnes, can I have this dance?” Bucky takes a look around. There were a few people around who seemed to not take notice of the music coming from your phone.
“Gladly,” he accepted, taking your hand. Bucky placed one hand on your hip and pulled you in closer to him.
“I must admit, I know this was my idea, but I don’t know how to dance,” you whisper to him. Bucky shakes his head, smiling so wide he thought his mouth would start hurting. He slowly moves his feet side to side.
“Just this is fine,” he mutters. He tries not to take his eyes off yours, but you’re so close and Bucky can’t help but look at your lips, slightly parted and letting out deep breaths. He moves your hand rest on his shoulder, both of his own now holding your hips.
You trail your fingers from his shoulder to behind his neck, clasping your hands there.
“Thank you for this,” Bucky says and he hums along to the song playing, ‘Be Careful, It’s My Heart’ by Frank Sinatra. You smile at it, so he keeps humming. Bucky leans his forehead against yours.
“I know it’s not perfect-”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s with you. And this is...it’s nice.” You feel like your heart is going to burst. His eyes keep flitting down to your lips and Bucky leans in.
As his lips ghost against yours, you move your head, so he ends up kissing your cheek. He pulls back, a confused look on his face.
“Save that for the end of the date, honey,” you tease, leaning up to kiss his cheek. You linger your lips against his skin before moving away from him and his scoff turns into a laugh.
“I’m holding you to that,” he says, biting the inside of his cheek.
“I hope you do” you mumble and Bucky pulls you in close to him, making you squeal. He twirls you and brings you back into his arms, his lips touching the top of your ear.
“Let’s go get some dinner now.” You nod and grab your phone, opting to let the music keep playing. Bucky doesn’t hesitate from telling you random music facts about the artists as you make your way to the diner.
And as you ramble on about your own favorite singer, Bucky thanks the heavens that he took a chance on you and that it was going better than he ever imagined.
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butt-watch · 3 years
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Deltarune Chapter 2 Theory
DELTARUNE SPOILERS AHEAD
I'll put under a read more, but just in case it doesn't work. Here's your warning to block "#delatrune spoilers" or scroll really fast.
Spoilers for end game and bonus boss, and a long ass dump of all the ideas I have in my head before I forget them. So, sorry if I got anything wrong or it's a mess.
I've seen a lot of theories flying around, but haven't seen this one yet. (Sorry if it is already out there and I just haven't seen it, I'm sure somebody will already have put it together better than me.) This is just some funky ideas I've been throwing around, because I'll be honest here, I love the main 3 so much, and would be sad to see any of them turn out to be evil like so many theories are suggesting.
Maybe I'm just trying to be optimistic, maybe it's the weird nb kid deep inside me latching onto a kindred spirit, maybe I'm on to something.
So here's the thing. I don't believe Kris is the knight.
I know, I know, but stay with me here.
There's no denying that at the end of the chapter, Kris created a new fountain, and with it, likely a new dark world. But I'd like to argue, this is the first one they've created. My evidence is shaky, but I think there's something there that could blossom.
I'll start off with the simple fact that multiple characters who have met the knight, Spades King especially, didn't recognise Kris at all, and you would have thought they'd recognise the person who's been feeding them so much information. You do also have a couple of dialogue options with the king this time, and definitely with the Queen, so it seems strange that neither of them recognise the voice of their Knight in shining armour.
This is where stuff starts to get a bit flaky, but also, a lot more intriguing.
At the end of the chapter Kris opened a fountain, and the night before, we saw Kris remove the soul inside them and brandish their knife. Assuming that Kris spent that time without the soul creating a fountain is a fair assumption to make, and I think it's possible that was Kris's intention, perhaps they have some connection to the knight, and knew how the fountains could be opened. But, they were missing one important ingredient.
In Chapter 2 we get an explanation from the Queen about how dark fountains are created, and with it a word that has largely been missing from Deltarune.
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That's right, good old Determination.
Fountains are created when a determined Lightner plunges a sharp object into the ground. And here's where the theory comes in. I believe prior to the end of chapter 2, Kris didn't have Determination. Throughout the game, they've been filled with various sources of power, from Fluffy Boys and Mean Girls, to Cat signs. But at every save point we've been missing the signature Determination.
The closest we get is at the end of Chapter 2, just before the fight against the queen, when "a certain power" is alluded to.
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And that lack of Determination, would have made opening the fountain impossible for them, after all, Queen spent the whole game building Noelle's determination high enough to open a new fountain. A smidge of determination doesn't seem to cut it.
So how did Kris get the determination?
Through the good old power of Friendship. Through the trials with their new friends, Kris has gained determination, even without the soul inhabiting them. And even though that started as half a joke (only half), whilst writing this post and trying to find screencaps, for the next section, I realised it's actually more likely than I suspected.
And that brings me to everyone's new favourite:
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Spamton. During his dialogue and initial boss fight he offers a deal, rewarding Kris with [[Hyperlink Blocked]] if they accept. As far as I'm aware you're forced to accept the deal. (If anyone else tolerated more than a few minutes of smashing no deal like I did and managed to get a different outcome, kudos to your perseverance.)
What is [[Hyperlink Blocked]]? Well I'm sure you can guess where I'm going with this. I believe it may well be Determination or something similar.
During the initial confrontation, Spamton refers to the players Soul as [[HeartShapedObject]].
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But prior to the boss fight against Spamton NEO, he has no qualms about saying SOUL.
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I've seen a lot of people theorising Spamton is being censored, and I agree that definitely seems to be the case. From a meta standpoint though I think it's interesting that the [[Hyperlink Blocked]] he mentioned so much in his first encounter doesn't seem to be mentioned at all, now the he has slightly more freedom of speech. I personally believe it's because revealing whatever Spamton was offering would have given too much away.
So how does this come back to the power of friendship? Well, upon defeating Spamton, whether through ACTing or beating the crap out of him, he realises the real treasure was the friends we made along the way.
He suggests that together, the three of them could "break their own strings"
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Following the fight, there's a moment, where Susie notices that Kris is acting out of sorts. Whichever option you choose, it's obvious that Kris is shaken by the event, even going as far as to yell the answer if you let them admit how they're feeling.
The similarity to Kris's own situation, being puppeted by the player is a valid reason for the response. Whatever shook them did so with enough effect that the fear showed despite the players control. Either that, or Kris has something they didn't have, more control. More... Determination to overcome the soul.
That last part is reaching a little, which is saying something, given the amount of shaky evidence presented in this post, so I want to wrap this up mostly with something slightly unrelated, but still a Kris theory.
Why do they open the fountain?
There are a lot of theories, about being a pawn for Gaster, being an asshole, etc.
I'd like to think Kris is just a weird kid who's gotten caught up in a mess they don't really understand. They created a scenario where Susie would be forced to stay the night, and opened up a new dark world, that Susie, their friend, expressed a want for before they left the dark world.
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A place where they could get away from their lives for a little while and have more adventures together. And I can understand the reasoning, opening a new fountain isn't bad, I mean, as long as they close it at the end, nobody gets hurt and they have more memories. Where's the harm in that? Right?
As much as Kris obviously wishes to be free of the soul's control, that very soul has helped them make real friends. It's taken them on adventures and well.
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Somebody had to let it out before the morning.
So to summarise, the strongest power known to man is a group of lonely teenagers, if you run through a peaceful game murdering everything and then blame a video game character for the decision you made, I'll kick your ass, and I guess I'm a Kris stan now, oh god.
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undertaker1827 · 3 years
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Hey there dear, I was thinking carefully about my next request. And I thought of something touching yet hilarious. How about it's one of rare times where Ciel gives Sebastian the night off so he can spend time out in town with his darling S/o? But after some time Grell interrupts them and starts his hilarious del-comversitions and complaining about why such a powerful demon care for a simple human being and as Grell sees Sebastian ignores him and Sebastian's about to go with his S/o in his arms. Grell attacks them with goal to kill the S/o and both demon and grime reaper give a hilarious fight where Sebastian is beating Grell and then Will shows up and takes Grell with him. What do you think?
Will do, enjoy!
Masterlist
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You couldn’t help the smile that came over your features as you walked with your hand in the crook of Sebastian’s elbow.  It was dark out as your partner still had to work for the former part of the day, but you were by no means complaining. This was a rare opportunity for both of you and you had every intention of enjoying it thoroughly. You talked together about anything and everything, nothing important or serious. You had missed him, missed being able to be with him when he looked happy and content, mind not focused on the work he still had to do around the manor.
Sebastian had asked you a short while ago what you wanted to do during this time you had together in the city, but all you were able to reply was that you didn’t know and you didn’t mind either, you were just enjoying his company. You ended up just walking around, takeaway coffee cups in hand and the space around you gradually darkening into nightfall. You wished there was a way you could stay in this moment forever; you were walking through a section of London that was filled with endless neon signs, advertising things in multiple different languages. The lights were all different colours, and each of them reflected off of Sebastian’s glossy, jet black hair like a painting or photograph. His amber eyes too were given an array of bright shades, making him seem all the more attractive. Good things never last though, as they say, and you knew the exact moment when the atmosphere changed.
Your demon lover stiffened, the hand he had lightly resting on your back suddenly pressing against your spine and the arm you were holding tense. He guided you away from the centre of the crowd you were walking through, casually yet attentively taking in your surroundings.
“We’re simply going to take a slightly different route,” he told you in answer to your unasked question, although you would be lying if you said that statement put you entirely at ease. You knew Sebastian would protect you from whatever threat he could sense coming that you had no knowledge of, but having an idea of what to expect always helped one’s confidence. It was when you rounded another corner, blocked in by a high rise block of flats on either side that his arm gently yet suddenly connected with your ribs, effectively bringing your purposeful striding alongside his to a halt. You didn’t miss the way he angled his body so that he was standing just a little in front of you, a protective stance you were aware he wouldn’t take unless necessary.
“Oh, Bassy!”
A chill crawled its way up your spine at the singsong voice that echoed from on top of one of the buildings, eyes locked onto a silhouetted figure as they leapt down to the concrete pavement below with astonishing grace and accuracy. Not human was supplied helpfully by your mind, though it had nothing to say afterwards. You looked on silently at the exchange.
“Grell,” Sebastian greeted just a little warily and with a sharp edge to his tone, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to move, we’re in something of a hurry.”
“Oh, really?” Grell taunted, swinging what appeared to be a chainsaw on two nimble fingers, “well I’m afraid I’m going to have to interrupt. You see, we never did get to finish our death match.” Sebastian held back a sigh at the play on his words and ignored the dramatic whirr of the chainsaw that accompanied them, then quickly turned back to you. He gathered you swiftly into his arms and leapt in a feat of acrobatics until he landed on the roof where the other being had come from. He attempted to make a swift getaway with you held tightly to his chest, but it took all of a few seconds for it become clear that it wouldn’t work. He expertly dodged the chainsaw’s blade as it bit into the concrete where his feet had been mere moments prior, and deposited you neatly behind him.
“Best stay there for now, my love,” he murmured to you before turning back around to face his opponent once more. You watched as the two fought, each dodging and attacking with what seemed to be equal skill and ability. It was clear to you that this type of thing had happened before with the two of them, though it was not something Sebastian ever mentioned to you. In hindsight, he probably thought knowing something like that would scare you off. Your ears perked up at a lull in the fighting, one which Grell wasted no time in filling with speech. “Why them then, hm?” He gave a small nod in your direction to indicate to whom he was referring. He sounded fairly curious all things considered, though there was no attempt to hide the bitterness in his tone. “A human of all things. You do know how terribly fragile and fleeting they are, don’t you?” Sebastian flicked one eyebrow up as he assessed his options, again wondering if just running away with you would be enough to deter the reaper. Probably not.
“All the more reason to let us get on then, wouldn’t you agree?”
Grell’s eyes narrowed just a fraction.
“No, I would not!” He made a move to lunge forwards again, Sebastian ready to block, when another weapon appeared apparently out of nowhere and neatly tipped Grell’s from his hands. The indignant cry he gave was promptly cut off when another man materialised, now holding both the chain saw and a set of shears? “Oh, Will!” ‘Will’ carefully avoided Grell’s flying hug and didn’t so much as spare him a glance when he landed hard on the rooftop.
“How many times must I say it, Sutcliff,” he growled out, voice bored, uninterested and extremely annoyed, “but you have a job to do and it does not revolve around this demon scum.” He glanced at you for a moment and you were certain that if looks could kill, both you and Sebastian would be six feet under by now. “Now come along.” He said nothing at all to either you or your partner, dragging Grell to standing by the collar of his red coat and fiercely ignoring his complaints. Unable to look away, you watched on until they had both disappeared into the night and Sebastian was running a gentle fingertip over your arm.
“Sorry about that,” he offered with a small smirk, “but shall we continue? I recommend a rooftop walk, the view of the stars is unparalleled.” You took his arm once more and pressed a small kiss to his cheek.
“I think I would like that.”
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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years
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Colour symbol ask:
Fluff: grey: maturity
Gordon & Alan
Secret Tunnel
Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Alan, Gordon
Well, my muses have come to life again, which is both great for my mental state and annoying timing with regards to the uni work I'm supposed to be doing, but I'll make it work :D
After making a Military Bros masterpost of everything I've written for those two for Military Bros Day, I started thinking about all the different brother duos and how much I've written for each of them. Now, I might be forgetting something, but the one combination I don't recall writing anything for at all is Gordon&Alan, so I poked at my muses and we came up with this!
It's only a loose tie-in to the prompt, I think, but some sensible Tinies content counts as being mature, right?
Colour Symbol Prompts
“So.” Alan glanced up at his brother, raising an eyebrow at the drawl. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Gordon continued, tone light in a way that would have been disarming if it wasn’t Gordon, and they weren’t in the remains of a collapsed building.
“What’s the bad news?” he asked, rolling his shoulder. It was stiff, vocally complaining at the movement, and Alan was well aware that without the pauldrons his overprotective brothers had thrown on his uniform before letting him join IR it would be a lot worse. While none of the debris had hit either of them directly, some smaller chunks of masonry had glanced off his left shoulder.
Gordon’s sharp amber eyes tracked the motion even as his brother spoke. “Well, the bad news is that our comms are down.” Alan had suspected as such, but the fact still dumped a heavy weight on his chest. No comms meant no John, no Scott or Virgil, no help from outside. He didn’t like being cut off from his brothers at the best of times, and this was hardly the best of times.
Still, he at least had one brother this time, and despite his penchant for not taking things seriously at home, when out on a mission, Gordon was as reliable as they came. They might not have Thunderbird Five’s data at their disposal, or Scott’s leadership, or Virgil’s muscles, but they did have two working brains between them.
Panicking, as Alan had learnt the hard way on other rescues where things went wrong, did him no favours at all. He swallowed back the instinctual panic and met Gordon’s eyes in the artificial half light of the glowstick from Gordon’s baldric.
“So what’s the good news?” he asked.
“The good news,” Gordon said with a flourish and grin reserved for when things weren’t going their way and Alan’s immediate brother decided the world wasn’t allowed to do that, “is that I think I’ve found us a way out.”
“You think?” Alan couldn’t help but question, even though he was already scrabbling his way to his feet and looking around in the hopes of seeing whatever Gordon had found.
“Over here.” He followed the glowstick as Gordon headed over towards where the rubble looked the thickest, blocking them in. “There’s air flowing in.”
Neither of their uniforms offered much by way of exposed skin, but Alan leaned down where Gordon gestured and took off his helmet just long enough to feel a faint breeze on his cheek.
“Where’s that coming from?” he asked, tugging his helmet back on. Gordon pointed at the floor, or what had once been the floor.
“It’s coming from down there,” he said.
“The floor?” Alan knelt down where Gordon gestured. “Why would it be coming from the- oh.”
The house they’d been in, and were now trapped inside, had been an old one. Alan didn’t remember the exact age, but it was a couple of centuries old at least. Old houses, especially larger ones, had secret passageways.
“So how do we get it open?” he wondered out loud, already rummaging around the area. Gordon crouched down next to him with a shrug as his hands joined Alan’s in trying to find a way to open the passageway that had to be there if they were getting airflow.
“Figured finding ways to open secret passages was more your thing,” his brother admitted. “Don’t those games of yours have secret passageways in all the time?”
The question was an honest one, and Alan blinked. “Well, yeah,” he said, “but those are games. This is real. It won’t be the same.” Despite his words, his fingers were still pulling and pushing at the stones that made up the floor, because at least it was a lead.
They could, of course, wait for their bigger brothers to barge their way in, with Virgil encased in his exosuit and Scott so close behind he’d be standing on his heels while John guided them non-stop over the comms, but there was still a lot of work to be done and they were deep inside the building.
Said building took that moment to groan again, threatening another collapse if they didn’t get out pronto. Alan loved his brothers, but he wasn’t about to get crushed because he’d waited helplessly for rescue. The danger zone covered a large area, and while he and Gordon had found no casualties in their sector, Virgil and Scott would have to prioritise the civilians elsewhere no matter how much they might be panicking about losing contact with the pair of them.
If he and Gordon could find their own way out, so much the better.
“It’s close enough, right?” Gordon shrugged, still sounding inappropriately light-hearted for the situation. Alan didn’t take it personally – Gordon’s coping strategies had time and time proven themselves to be effective.
“I’ll let you know,” he grunted, finding ridges in the stone floor. “Bring that light closer. I think I’ve got something.”
The sickly green glow spread across more of his vision as Gordon held it close to his hands, illuminating the remains of the floor below them. There were multiple ridges carved into the stone, all uniform and completely mundane.
Except for the section that wasn’t.
Alan almost missed it, huffing in defeat as he sat on his haunches and rubbed at his shoulder again. At a glance, it looked no different to the rest of the floor, but it had caught his glove in a way the others hadn’t. It was also in the same place as the mysterious airflow.
Gloved fingers scrabbled at the discrepancy, hunting for a purchase that would hopefully reveal their way out. Gordon had moved to crouch right next to him, holding the glowstick aloft but otherwise keeping his hands to himself and leaving the investigation to Alan. His presence there was comforting, helping Alan to keep it together when part of him wanted to scream into his dead comms in the hope that John would pick it up anyway.
There was a click, barely audible over the noise of creaking masonry in their immediate vicinity. Alan felt it rather than heard it, his fingers suddenly pressing down as the resistance vanished. Age old mechanisms whirred back into life, until with a clunk part of the floor moved down and to the side, revealing a small, dark, passageway leading down into the belly of the house.
“Nice one,” Gordon acknowledged, leaning forwards and peering into the inky depths. A second glowstick was snapped and tossed in, illuminating what was definitely a rough-hewn rock corridor. “I’ll go first.”
He was halfway in by the time the words registered, and Alan peered at the opening with some reluctance. “And you’re sure this will get us out?” he checked, because he didn’t want to wait to be rescued like a civilian, but he also had no intentions of being buried alive.
“That air’s coming from somewhere,” Gordon reminded him, edging forwards a few more paces until he reached the glowstick laying where it had landed on the floor of the corridor. “And the roof of this thing seems pretty sturdy.” He rapped it a couple of times with his knuckles. “If the rest of the house collapses, this’ll be the last thing to go.”
A glance around showed that his brother was probably right. Alan swallowed before following him inside, sticking right on Gordon’s heels as the older blond led the way, glowstick held up high for light.
As far as passages went, it was small. Apt for a secret passage, but annoying when the ceiling lowered and the pair of them had to stoop almost double to get through some sections. It twisted and turned, in some areas narrow enough to force them to go through sideways, and at one point the way forwards seemed to vanish altogether before Alan realised a shaft of rock was concealing the next section.
It definitely lived up to its likely original purpose of a secret escape. Pursuing someone through there would be difficult; luckily, the only aim Alan and Gordon had was getting out of the collapsed building.
The first sign of the outside world was when their comms crackled in unison. It was impossible to make anything out through the static, but the garbled voice of John was definitely missing the calm tones their ginger brother usually deployed on rescues. Scott’s response was short and sharp, clipped in a way that screamed panic, and the low rumble of Virgil felt on edge, too.
Returning comms promised that they had to nearly be out, and Alan stumbled forwards, almost catching himself with his painful shoulder before he arrested his momentum with his healthy arm instead.
Neither he nor Gordon spoke, even though he was certain the same thoughts had to be running through his brother’s head as well. They were close, but they weren’t out yet, and had no reassurance that the exit for the secret tunnel hadn’t been collapsed or buried by more falling debris.
Still, it remained the best chance they had. Alan didn’t fancy trailing back through the passageway and sitting back in the rubble of the building, and he knew Gordon felt the same, so pushing onwards was their only choice. It continued to twist and turn, dog-legging and backtracking with no apparent rhyme nor reason. Alan tried to keep track of it in his head, logging it like any secret passage in Cavern Quest, but it put all the virtual ones to shame.
Then Gordon stopped, and Alan walked straight into him.
“Ow!” he exclaimed instinctively, before stepping back a pace. “Why have we stopped?”
“It doesn’t go any further,” Gordon said, holding the glowstick high. It was running out of juice, leaving the sickly green glow far fainter than it had been earlier. It was barely enough light to make out his brother’s face, let alone whatever the rocks surrounding them were doing. “This must be the end.”
“So get us out,” Alan shrugged, rubbing his shoulder and trying to hide the wince of pain that came with the action. Their comms were still broadcasting garbled static interspersed with panicked voices, but the signal was still too poor to even attempt to get hold of John. “There’ll be a mechanism somewhere. Try looking for something slightly off in the ridges on the stone?”
“Trying,” Gordon grunted. The faint green-lit silhouette of his shoulders strained as he pushed and pulled at the rocks. “Not finding anything, Alan.”
“Let me try.” He pushed forwards, trying to squeeze past Gordon to get a better look at the wall of rock blocking their way. Gordon fell back without complaint, although it took a lot of pushing and pulling, and a concerning scrape against his helmet before they managed it.
Alan was struck by a flash of gratitude that none of their older brothers were with them. Scott and John would both be too tall, and Virgil was too bulky. Getting through the passageway with one of them would have been a nightmare. At least he hadn’t yet stopped growing and Gordon was small – not that he planned on mentioning that to Gordon just yet. There was a time and a place for the teasing, and this was neither.
With Gordon now behind him, looming over his shoulder with the ever-fading glowstick held out helpfully in his periphery, Alan reached out and felt around for something similar to the switch he’d found to get them into the tunnel from the other end. Carefully uniform ridges carved across the rock and he followed them with his fingers until, finally, something gave.
Bright light spilled in as the end of the tunnel opened, blinding him with midday sun.
That, however, paled in comparison to the way both their comm audios suddenly sharpened.
“Any sign of them?” Scott’s voice demanded.
“Keep working on getting the mother out of that room,” John non-answered, still sounding far too on edge. “Virgil, there’s a small life sign the other side of the wall.”
“F.A.B.” The forced calm of Virgil’s voice told Alan he was no less agitated than the other two.
“Hey guys.” Gordon chipped in, echoing in Alan’s helmet from the comm channel in stereo with the sound of his voice in real time. “Where do you need us, Thunderbird Five?”
“Gordon!” All three voices overlapped in frantic cacophony. “Where are you?” Scott demanded. “Where’s Alan? Are you okay?”
“I’m here, too,” Alan promised.
“We’re fine,” Gordon added. “Who’s left to save?”
“Virgil and Scott are on the last life signs now,” John told them. “Your signals have reappeared a fair way out from the danger zone; get yourselves back to Thunderbird Two.”
Alan looked around and realised he was right – the two Thunderbirds gleamed in the sunlight, but it was immediately clear that the passageway they’d taken had led almost directly away from the crafts. Even in a straight line, the walk was going to take a good quarter of an hour.
Next to him, Gordon sighed and started walking. “F.A.B.,” he agreed. Alan stumbled a little as he lurched forwards to keep up. “We’ll see you there.”
Sure enough, by the time they arrived, both on-site brothers were waiting impatiently. It was clear that it was only the presence of their rescuees that had stopped them from striking out to meet them, but even that wasn’t enough to stop their big brothers charging towards them as soon as they were visible.
Scott reached them first, always the fastest runner, and Alan let out an oof as he was crushed into a frantic hug alongside Gordon. Worried blue eyes looked them both over, narrowing as they found something they didn’t like.
He was pushed aside as Virgil reached them, Thunderbird Two’s pilot refraining from giving them a bear hug only because he’d clearly spotted the scrape on Alan’s helmet as he’d approached.
“Are you hurt?” A medscanner was deployed almost before Virgil was finished talking. Scott didn’t wait for permission from anyone before carefully detaching Alan’s helmet and peering at his head. Alan didn’t bother to stop him.
“I’m fine!” he made sure to protest, though, although his hand betrayed him as it subconsciously moved across to rub at his shoulder again. None of his brothers missed the action, and before he knew it he was being whisked inside the green Thunderbird so Virgil could take a closer look.
Scott hovered worriedly by his side, glancing over periodically at Gordon. Alan followed suit, catching Gordon’s eye, and his brother rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. It was fond, though; Alan wasn’t at all surprised by Scott and Virgil’s behaviour, and he highly doubted Gordon was, either.
It was just a hazard of having older brothers.
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starsstruck · 4 years
Text
cloudbusting; part one.
a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. hazy opening shifts, paintings on walls, and new regulars.
pairing: harry x reader warnings: language words: 8.3k
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art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be !)
series masterlist | story tag
a/n: first part !! i am so excited (and slightly nervous) to start and share this story i really hope everyone enjoys <3. as always, please share if you can and i would love to hear your thoughts !
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There was a lot you liked about the city, especially the city in the morning.
The walk you always made to work wasn’t too long, the day still early enough that there were only a handful of people out along with you. Some joggers, some dog walkers, some people heading to work and likely some heading home.
Grateful for the sun being up before you were, the July morning already heating up the early air of the day. Feet moving you quickly through the Brooklyn Heights neighbourhood, you walked the last few blocks that led you from your apartment to the coffee shop.
The one thing you didn’t like about the summer morning, was that the air was making your eyes itch.
It was that fresh morning haze, the one that held the night’s humidity and somehow the night’s pollen as well, having you rub your nose for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning.
The sky had turned a light blue, a warm glow just rising over the buildings as you crossed the road, your hand already in your bag to fish out your keys.
Grabbing the newspaper that was placed on the street by the door, tucking it under your arm, and unlocked the door to the café. Stepping inside and promptly closing and relocking the door behind you. The air inside was stuffy and hot as it always was in the summer especially after a lack of airflow all night.
Punching in the security code, haphazardly throwing your bag and keys on the counter before shrugging off your jacket, already finding yourself feeling too hot. It was always the same path you followed, every opening shift.
Turning off the alarm, dumping your things on the counter, moving further behind the counter to turn on the iPad where POS were made, before walking into the even hotter back room to turn on the sound system. One of your playlists was already queued, soon the sound of Lizzo blasting through the shop while you moved to prep and bake the pastries.
Your body worked on auto pilot, not even having to think that much; preheating ovens and unwrapping thawing croissants. The air conditioning was slowly settling in the large space, grabbing yourself a glass of iced water to help cool yourself down.
Opening didn’t take very long; it was just the food prep that took a bit longer and needed you to come in a slightly earlier than necessary.
The café would be opening in about twenty minutes, and all you had left to do was brew the drip coffee and dial the espresso. It was always simultaneously your favourite and least favourite part of opening.
It gave you your first taste of coffee of the day, but it also meant you had to take multiple sips thus drinking too much coffee at once in the morning. Scrunching your nose at the acidic taste of the first shot you pulled, promptly dumping it out in the sink and rinsing out your mouth with some water.
Every opening shift was the same, hands moving without your mind as you pulled a few more shots, adjusting the grind of your espresso.
Two minutes until opening; you flipped through the daily newspaper and easily found the crossword, taking out the section that contained it to put it aside.
Grabbing the sign that would sit outside in one hand, you unlocked the front door and placed it on the sidewalk by the door. Moving the patio furniture that was kept inside at night, laying it out along the side of the café across the windows.
Changing your playlist as the clock changed to 7:00, the soft sounds of Leif Vollbeckk filling the space. Grabbing your laptop from your bag, hoping for a slow morning as you pulled up order forms you needed to fill out for next weeks deliveries. Filling a glass with ice, deciding to finish off the rest of the cold brew –knowing there wouldn’t be enough to fill up a cup to sell to a customer.
“Morning!”
Smiling at the sound of the familiar voice, diverting your attention from the spreadsheets on the screen to see the older man walking up towards the counter.
“You’re here early today.” Grinning, you pushed yourself away from the counter and grabbed the crossword puzzle and a pen that were put aside earlier.
“I’m going for lunch with my son later,” Dani sat himself in the plushy chair he loved so much. “I still wanted to make sure I could come in for my coffee.”
Handing him the crossword that was always saved for him, knowing he loved to get to it first.
“Let me know when you want your coffee,” you hummed, hands resting on your hips.
“I’ll take it right away today.” He told you, as you watched him reach in the paper bag he brought with him, pulling out a bagel.
He often brought his own food. You really didn’t care that he didn’t patronize the café for its food, and only the coffee. He came in nearly every day, sometimes two times in a day and he was definitely one of your favourite faces to see walk through the doors.
“I brought you some breakfast.”
Another reason why you really didn’t care was that he often brought you a little treat along with his own. He was familiar with everyone who worked with you, constantly asking about the schedule and who would be working when so he knew who to expect. But you knew that you were his favourite, and he never forgot to tell you that.
“You didn’t have to,” you smiled, as he waved off your comment and handed you your own bagel. “Thank you.”
“I know how you are in the morning, always running out of time and forgetting to eat.”
Leaving it with him at his table, making the short distance to go back behind the counter to get his coffee ready.
“It’s going to be hot out today.”
You listened as Dani spoke to you in the empty coffee shop, making the obliged daily weather talk. “I know. It was far too hot in here already when I came in.”
The big windows that didn’t have blinds acted as heaters in the morning, the rising sun shinning through them and heated up the entire coffee shop. The air conditioning that was recently turned on was starting to help with the air flow, but it was still heavy and humid around you.
Your hands working on muscle memory alone as you twisted your arm, tamping the espresso and clicking the portafilter in on the machine. Grabbing the little scale you used to weigh out the water, still early in the day and tinkering with the grind of the espresso, making slight adjustments.
Steaming the milk until you felt it hot enough, knowing Dani liked it extra extra hot no matter the time of year. Tapping the air bubbles out until you were satisfied, filling the paper cup up only halfway, just the way Dani wanted it.
“For you,” walking back to the regular customer, placing his coffee in front of him and seating yourself in the empty seat beside him.
You watched as he took a sip of the coffee, smile on his face. “Excellent as always.”
It was mostly a joke amongst everyone, that Dani would always personally review everyone’s skill at making his drink. It still gave you little ego boost every time he commented on how well you made coffee.
“I’m glad,” you said, swirling the ice around your glass before taking a long sip. You sat together for a bit, eating your bagels together while Dani told you about how his grandkids were doing.
This was probably one of your favourite parts of your job, getting to know the regulars. It was always so nice when you saw them walk in with a big smile, asking how you were doing and how things were going in your life.
Dani was obviously by far your favourite. He sometimes brought in his kids and grandkids, a big order of coffee going around as he bought everyone their drinks. He had lost his wife a couple years back, telling you that ever since then he was always looking for a new routine, and you were so happy to be a part of his daily pattern.
Your conversation was interrupted as a couple and their child walked into the shop, recognizing them as regulars as well while they waved hello to you.
Making your way back to behind the counter, putting their orders through. You knew they lived in the neighbourhood; you often saw them around. It was endearing, how often they came in for a little breakfast and coffee together with their daughter who couldn’t be older than four.
Things were starting to pick up slightly, a few other people stopping by for a coffee and breakfast to go on their way to work. You kept darting your eyes over to the big window that faced the street, checking the time over and over knowing that you had a milk delivery coming in at any time.
“Are your croissants baked in house?”
“Yes,” you nodded, not technically lying. “We get them frozen from a bakery, and we proof and bake them here every morning.”
“So are they fresh?” The middle-aged man asked, eyes glancing over to where the food sat in the display case.
“Yes,” you repeated. “They were baked this morning.”
He nodded again, pausing for a second. “I’ll just take this.” He grabbed for a muffin that sat in front of him.
You only nodded, blowing out a quiet sigh from between your lips. Already finding your patience running a bit thin this morning. Really for no particular reason, other than it would finally be your day off tomorrow.
Putting his order through, grabbing the itemized receipt for yourself so you wouldn’t forget what his drink was and bagged up his muffin.
You heard the door open, glancing up to see someone else walk through the door. “Can you make mine right away?” The man who had just ordered glanced towards the door as well, seeing the other customer walk in. “I’m in a rush.”
Only nodding, narrowing your eyes at him slightly in annoyance. If anything, him telling you that he was in a rush made you want to make his drink even slower. Still, ever the good customer service employee, you pulled the shots you needed. Steaming the soy milk and making a bit of a messy design with the milk, not quite caring about how his latte turned out.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” You didn’t hide the wrinkle in your nose at the use of the pet name, the man not even noticing as he struggled to get the lid on, spilling a bit of the latte on the counter before he headed towards the door.
Plastering your fake smile on your face, going back to the till to take the order of the client who had been waiting. “Hi there, thank you for waiting.”
You glanced around the space by the register, knowing that the pen you liked the use was sitting on the counter somewhere. “What can I get for you today?”
“Do you have bulletproof coffee?” Deep accent pulling your attention away from the search for your pen, facing the man standing on the other side of the counter.
“Uh –” you paused and bit your lips together for a beat, trying not to show your distaste. “No, I’m sorry.”
“That’s too bad,” the customer hummed, craning his neck to look at the menu board that hung behind you.
Is it really though? You saw your pen tucked between two receipts on the counter next to you, gripping it between your index and middle finger.
“I think Garden Coffee might have it? They’re a couple block down.”
Pointing in general direction of the neighbouring coffeehouse, personally not finding a liking to their coffee. It was a very similar set up to where you worked, but in your opinion, they tried far too hard to mimic a trendy third wave coffee shop and came off highly pretentious.
“No, no that’s okay,” the guy smiled at you. “I’ll have an espresso. Are they doubles?”
Nodding, you put his order into the system. “All the espresso drinks come as doubles, but I can do a single if you’d like? Or a shorter shot.”
You were mindlessly flipping the pen between your fingers, eyes continuously darting out the window just knowing the milk delivery was about to arrive. “No, a double would be perfect.”
“Sounds good,” you said. “Was that going to be for here or to go?”
“Here,” he nodded, opening his wallet.
“And was that going to be all for you today?” Not even fully paying attention, speaking through every line you asked customers before finalizing their order.
“Yeah – thank you.”
Telling him his total, opening the till as you dug out his change.
“Any reason you don’t have bulletproof coffee?” He brought your attention over to him again while you double checked you had the right amount of change.
It’s gross. “It’s not very popular,” you told him truthfully. “We don’t get asked for it too often either. Plus,” you tried to hide your grimace at the thought. “It’s a bit of an odd order. Not many people like it.”
He laughed at that. “Guess it is a bit of a refined taste.”
You could only nod, refined not really being the word to come to mind but you weren’t going to tell him that. Heading over to the corner where the espresso machine sat, quickly going through the same motions all over again and waited for the little mug to fill.  
Taking a sip of your water as you watched the seconds pass on the machine, the slow and steady pour of the espresso landing right into the cup.
The man who had just ordered had wandered over to where orders were to be picked up, glancing around the space. “I’ve never been here before,” he was standing opposite of the espresso machine, half of him hidden behind it. “It’s a nice place.”
“Yeah, I like it,” you nodded, not glancing up at him to stop the espresso, tapping the little cup on the counter once the pour ended. You never knew what to say when people complimented the coffee shop, saying thank you seemed a bit odd since you weren’t the owner, but any other response always sounded the slightest bit off.
“Espresso for here,” you smiled, placing the little cup on a plate, spoon next to it and slid it over to the counter towards him. He was leaning closer to the wall, arms crossed over his chest and eyes slightly narrowed, likely observing the paintings that hung up on that wall.
Your name was called through the café, attention being pulled away to see Dani now standing, empty cup in hand.
“Bye!” He called, waiting for you to walk to his side of the counter as he handed back the pen that you had lent him. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“No,” you shook your head, watching a look of mock shock dawn Dani’s face. “Even I need a day off.”
“That’s true,” he laughed. “Get your rest, I’ll see you Saturday.”
Waving bye to him once again, attention turning to another patron that was waiting for you by the till. Another morning regular, putting their order through quickly and heading over to make it.
“How does one get their art up here?”
“Sorry?” You weren’t paying attention, small diversions all around you.
The incoming milk delivery being on the top of your list of things to think about; next to making the iced americano, cleaning up some milk you spilt, and the shrill cries coming from the toddler seated directly across from you.
“The art.” The guy who had asked about bulletproof coffee was still standing in the same spot, small mug in hand, by the series of paintings that covered the wall. “Who – I mean how could I get my art up there?”
It was a common question, but not one you could get into right away because it was just then that you saw the familiar logo on the white truck pull up across the street, signaling your milk delivery.
It was like this every week, but you hated when you were alone and this delivery came. Since it was one that you had to put away right away, and if customers came in they would get fussy because you had to be in the back, putting away all the dairy since it couldn’t exactly sit out for that long.
“Uh –” you smiled at the regular when you handed him his iced americano, turning to the other customer who had the question about the art. “Sorry, just a sec.”
Watching through the window as the delivery man made his way with a dolly packed with crates. Moving from behind the counter and taking the short walk to the front door, propping the door open for him.
Greeting him as you usually did, grabbing the order form from him to sign while he brought the dolly around the back, knowing where the milk went. Quickly signing your name at the bottom as you reviewed the order, shoving your pen back into your pocket to go fill up the back fridge with rows and rows of milk jugs.
The delivery man had already left, and you knew he was going to be coming back with more so you worked as quickly as possible, keeping an eye on the front counter to make sure there were no impatient customers waiting for you.
Stepping out of the back room, searching for the folder where you kept receipts and order forms from deliveries. Delivery man promptly returning, leaving another stack of crates for you before he headed off to use the restroom.
“Do you need a hand?”
“Jesus,” you couldn’t help the small curse at the unexpected voice and presence that made itself known next to you.
Accented voice pulling you out of your thoughts once again, seeing the bulletproof coffee man standing far too close to the inside where only staff were allowed in. Realizing he was offering to help with putting away the milk, you narrowed your eyes slightly at the odd offer of help.
“What…” you paused, fully taking in his appearance for the first time. He was young, probably around the same age as you. Brown hair that fell in floppy curls around his face, square jaw and bright eyes that completed his whole charming look.
“I’m good, thanks,” you took a step towards him, hoping he would get the hint and take a step outside of the space that was really just for staff. He seemed to catch on, watching you with a little smile playing on his lips.
“Sorry,” you found yourself apologizing, remembering he was waiting for an answer about the paintings. “I just have to –” sticking your thumb to point behind your shoulder, motioning to the dairy that was left to be put away. “I’m nearly done.”
“No worries, take your time.” He smiled, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit watched as you walked through the narrow back room to where the fridge sat in the back, unloading the rest of your delivery.
Finishing up, waving goodbye to the delivery man you knew very well you’d see again in a week’s time as he wheeled away empty crates on his dolly.
Searching for where you last placed your coffee and half eaten bagel, grateful to not have seen a single new customer and you added some more ice to your now watered down cold brew.
Eyes flitting over to where the bulletproof coffee drinker stood by the counter where you had left him, seeing him currently glancing at the space around him. You yanked open the messy drawer next to the till, rifling through it while you looked for the business cards you knew you kept somewhere deep down.
“Here,” grabbing the attention of the man who was observing paintings on the other wall, leaving the inside from behind the counter, to the open floor of the café.
He turned around to face you, eyes dropping down to the card you extended out to him. “The art doesn’t go through us. This woman here,” you motioned to the card. “She runs it, in a few coffee shops actually.”
You had only met Janeen a handful of times – when the art got switched out and a couple other times when she came in for a coffee. She was probably in her late fifties, a painter herself.
“Some of the art up right now is actually hers,” you glanced around, pointing to a few you were fairly certain belonged to Janeen, all for sale.
“Great thank you.” He gripped the card between his fingers, eyebrow furrowing slightly as his eyes skimmed over the name and email on Janeen’s card. He really must be an artist. Catching what you assumed was dried paint on his hands, the deep blue swiped over his skin standing out.
“Do you know how I should like, submit art to her? Or if there’s a process or anything?”
“I don’t, sorry,” offering him a small sympathetic smile. “It’s out of our hands, best bet would be to talk to Janeen about it.”
“Is there a manger I could ask?” He was glancing behind you as if you weren’t working alone.
Narrowing your eyes at him, knowing it was an easy mistake and was not at all meant to be a rude comment towards you, but for some reason you found yourself so socially exhausted so early in the morning.
“I am the manger.”
It came out a bit harsher than intended, but you didn’t care too much by this point. You saw his eyes visibly widen, mouth part slightly. “Oh -” tripping over his words as he held your narrowed gaze. “Sorry, I… I didn’t mean anything –”
He was cut off, saved by the bell if you will, to a group of young women walking through the door which meant you had to excuse yourself and head back behind the counter.
Mind drifting as you took their orders, feeling slightly peeved with the way the conversation with the apparent artist went. You knew you shouldn’t take it personally, customer’s said things all the time that really shouldn’t be taken seriously.
But it was small things like that, that had your mind trickling down a drain of will I ever be taken seriously and what am I doing with my life.
You loved your job, for the most part at least, you really did. But there was always that little voice of doubt inside of you, telling you that you weren’t doing enough with your life.
And when someone seemed to doubt the things you accomplished in life, it left a bad taste in your mouth and an unhealthy train of thoughts bringing your mood down.
At its core, it was pretty dumb to be irked by a comment asking for the manager. It was obviously because as the manager, you felt like maybe your position wasn’t well deserved, or like it shouldn’t be what you’re doing.
After making two iced mochas, cleaning up the small mess of spilt chocolate on the counter before digging out the folder where order forms were a bit haphazardly placed. Deciding now was the best time as ever to start putting them in order.
Glancing at the clock, you saw it was just barely past 8:30. You realized you still had about six hours left on your shift. Your eyes quickly shifted around the shop, seeing mostly empty tables as most of the morning customers got their orders to go. There weren’t any dishes pilled up anywhere, not yet at least.
The man who had been asking you about the art seemed to be finally seated, hunched over a table in the corner with a little book in front of him, twirling a pencil between his fingers the same way you did. You felt a bit bad for snapping at him, but you didn’t feel like entertaining conversation with him again.
Heading to the back room again, deciding that soft indie guitar wasn’t really the mood anymore, you changed your playlist once again.
A soft sigh left your mouth again, already feeling done with this day. You don’t really know why you felt so on edge. It was likely because today was the last day before a day off, after working a long stretch of shifts without much of a break.
Hours trickled by, the day never really picking up with just a slow stream of customers coming in. It gave you time to finalize the upcoming weeks schedule, sending it out to the rest of the staff.
It was just before one o’clock when Aleena came in, bright smile on her face when she greeted you.
Aleena as by far your favourite co-worker. She was in her mid thirties and was an absolute sweetheart. She was, for lack of a better term, your work wife.
When the both of you worked together you were always on the same page, not having to talk to know what the other one was thinking. The two of you would take turns bringing each other lunch, or snacks, or just little treats for each other.
“How has today been?” Joining her in the back room, shooting a glance to the front to make sure no customers were coming in.
“Hey Leena! It’s been okay,” you shrugged, watching her hang up her purse. “Pretty slow, which is kind of nice. I’m just,” you blew out a sigh for what felt like the hundredth time. “Tired today. I don’t really feel like talking to customers.”
She offered you a sympathetic smile. “You’re off tomorrow, yeah? Hope you have the time to relax, and see your friends.”
“I am! I’m seeing Mae tomorrow, she managed to get the day off too.”
“That’ll be good! You know if its slow it’s okay if you want to leave early today.”
You had an hour left on your shift, a small overlap between workers. It was unusual, to have one person working alone all day. Usually one person opened and then was joined by another later in the day, and the two people would close together with some staff changes in the middle of the day.
But with a last minute shift change due to someone getting food poisoning, you spent all day alone and Aleena would be closing alone. You had offered to come back in later in the day to help her close, since it was a bit of a feat to do alone, but she has insistently refused and said you needed your time off.
“I think I might…” you smiled at her. “If you’re okay here! I doubt it’ll pick up, the sales today have been really low.”
“Of course,” she waved you off. “Go, go. I’ll be okay.”
Forever grateful for Aleena, wrapping her in a little side hug as you bid your goodbyes and promised you’d bring her some baked treats next time to thank her.
“Oh! And the schedule is out, and I’ve already done the ordering for next week so there’s nothing else to worry about. Take it easy today.”
Gathering up your things and making yourself some iced tea for the road, swinging your bag over your shoulder and dreaming of the next day and a half of putting your feet up, and seeing your friends, not giving the shop one more look now that you were off.
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You were never really one for routines.
Rather, you weren’t really one to be setting routines, instead letting them work into place for you. In a sense, you still really didn’t a set routine, forever slightly disorganized.
Your weekly schedule was always a bit different, depending on the shifts you had. Sometimes it would be the same ones for weeks on end, being able to find a good groove with them.
But that never lasted. You didn’t mind though, always saying that you were just taking life as it came.
The one big consistency was the walk from your front door to behind the counter at work. No matter the time of day, it was always the same. Walking the steps down from your building and out to the street, sometimes taking your time and sometimes your pace quick.
And when you opened the door to work, you would head to the back room first, take a few seconds, and then face the rest of your day.
This Saturday was no different at all.
Waving hello to your, after the much needed day off, shutting the door to the staff room behind you for a second of peace before the long shift started.
“How’s the day been?” After taking a minute by yourself, you walked out and stopped to ask one of your coworkers, Erinne, about the sales so far.
“Busy,” she sighed, turning away from the till to face you. “Finally slowed down for a bit, but I’m sure it’ll be the same this afternoon.”
You only nodded, glancing around the space to see Aleena and another colleague, Noah, working on bar. They were cleaning up grounds that littered the counter and arranging milk in the small fridge underneath the bar.
Signs of a rush that hit the café, the quick clean up that was needed before another wave of people came in.  
“Well, I’m off.” Erinne said from next to you, clocking out of the system.
You didn’t have a single bad thing to say about any of your coworkers, or least you pretended that you didn’t. When you became manager, you knew that you were no longer able to gossip too much or talk about baristas you didn’t like.
Still, you couldn’t help but slightly dislike Erinne. She showed no sign of ever really listening to you, only doing half a job even when you reminded her to finish her duties.
“Have a good rest of your day,” you smiled to her, watching her reach for her phone that was in her back pocket as she headed to the back to grab her things.
Walking over to the back, greeting Aleena and Noah, promptly making yourself a drink to get a little caffeine boost. “How was your day off?”
“Really good,” you nodded, smacking your lips at the slightly bitter espresso, making a mental note to double check that later.
Filling in Aleena on your day off, before the conversation was ultimately interrupted by a group coming in. She went to the till, taking their orders while Noah stayed on bar to make the drinks. You saw them not needing that much help, no yet anyway, deciding to grab the dish bin to collect the emptied mugs you spotted left behind on tables.
Walking to the back of the shop first, finding a few mugs stacked and abandoned. Propping the dish bin against your hip, gathering up the dishes to be cleaned. Eyeing over seated customers, catching snippets of their conversations as you walked by.
Your eyes fell to a table tucked in the corner, recognizing the man who had been asking you about who to contact in relation the paintings on that hung on the wall. He had the same black book in front of him, pencils laid out around the table with one in hand, tapping it against the table.
He glanced up at you seemingly when you walked by, eyes flitting over to yours. He sent you a small smile as you bussed the table across from his, your eyes briefly leaving his to glance up to the front of the café, making sure the line wasn’t that long.
“I emailed Janeen.”
His voice pulled your attention back to him, as you picked up the buss bin again, not seeing any more dirty dishes that needed to be run through the dishwasher. He was obviously talking to you.
“That’s good,” you didn’t know what else to say.
He put down the pencil he was tapping against the table, closing the book in front of him. “I – I’m sorry about the other day –”
You were nearly embarrassed about snapping at him. Shrugging as your lips twitched to a little smile, gaze falling over the table in front of him. He had another espresso in front of him, this time over ice. “You don’t need to apologize.”
“I didn’t mean it like – you couldn’t be manager or anything. Just –” he motioned with his hands, as if replacing his words. “Looking to get some more exposure for my art.”
“Is a little coffee shop really the best exposure?”
“I mean,” he shrugged, sitting back in his chair. “I’ll take what I can get.”
“That’s fair.” Assuming the conversation was over, glancing back up to see Aleena taking someone’s order.
“How long have you been working here?”
“Hm? Over two years now.” Glancing back at him, hearing the door opening and most likely welcoming more paying customers.
“That’s a while,” he nodded, shifting in his chair again.
You nodded absentmindedly, seeing two large groups walk in the café, knowing you needed to head over to work behind the counter. “Sorry – I need to head back.”
“Of course,” he sat back again. “Sorry again.”
The sound of your name on his lips stopped you in your tracks. You turned back towards him, brow furrowed and mouth slightly gaped open.
“Heard a customer say your name last time,” he spoke before you could ask how he knew your name. “I’m Harry.”
“Nice to meet you,” words mumbled, quick nod in his direction before you were walking back towards the counter with your dish bin in hand.
It wasn’t uncommon, that customers would learn your name. No one wore nametags, so it gave a slight ounce of anonymity.
Obviously, regulars like Dani got to know you pretty well.
But it wasn’t all of them. Some customers would introduce themselves to you and ask for your name even though you swore you’d only seen them once, and some would come in everyday without the slightest inclination of wanting to get to know you.
Harry watched you walk away, disappearing to the back room before he heard a loud clang of dishes, assuming you set down the bin that you had been holding. He saw you reappear again, quickly walking over to the register and putting a hand on your coworkers’ shoulder, telling her something.
He looked around the coffee shop again, glancing at the paintings that decorated the walls. He had already taken his time to look at each and every one, nearly all of them by the same artist. They were all beach scenes, the talent of the artist very apparent in the way that they painted the reflections off the water.
Though the only one that really stood out to Harry was one depicting a sunset, bright oranges and reds filling the entire frame.
He glanced down to his own orange coloured pencil in hand, the haphazard shapes and scribbles that were on the page in front of him. He hadn’t made much progress as he tried to plan out his next series. All he knew is that he was currently very drawn to orange, tangerine to be exact, and that he wanted this next series to be big.
He still had yet to find it, the small idea that would start to form in the back of his mind that would grow into something huge. His inspiration usually came from little mundane ideas, liking to take his time to observe everything around him.
The warm glow from the sun cast through the windows, the harsh hiss of the steam wand from the espresso machine, the crumbs that fell around a child eating their croissant.
He took the last sip of his coffee, crunching the spare bits of ice that fell out of the cup and under his teeth.
Sketching random faces he saw around him, eyes moving all around the space. Gaze flitting over to where he saw you reappear for a very brief second, placing a now empty dish bin out for customers to fill, before spinning way and disappearing from his line of sight again.
The scuffed white floor wasn’t one that was particularly nice, per se, but it gave a feeling that this shop was lived in and well frequented. There was one wall that was all wood, with little shelves lined against it. Potted plants and random books placed on the shelves, next to a little sign that read “take a book, leave a book”.
He had no idea how he’d never seen this café. He must have passed it a few times at least, never really noticing it until the other morning when he walked a different route.
It was big and open, but still felt warm. The ambiance inside wasn’t stiff or off-putting, instead it was inviting and bright.
Even on a day like today, where the lineup at the register never really seemed to go away, there was a calmness in the air and not intensity or stress.
Which is why he came back a couple days later, bright and early on Monday morning. He realized it was a slight oversight on his part, getting there a bit too early, before the doors were even unlocked.
Seeing as he had about ten minutes to kill, deciding to take another walk around the block while he waited. Going down the street and walking past the shop, squinting lightly to gaze through the windows.
Harry saw you at the counter, gloved hands holding a knife as you carefully sliced a loaf, one he assumed to be banana bread. Your eyebrows were lightly drawn together, concentrating on the task at hand.
Amused to see you grab what appeared to be a thinner piece away from the others, breaking off a corner and popping it into your mouth. He didn’t realize he had stopped walking, until your attention diverted away from the cutting board in front of you and up out the window.
He immediately heated up as your eyes found his, embarrassed to be found watching you through the window. He was already certain he hadn’t made a great impression on you, and this wasn’t really helping his case.
Your lips moved in a small smile, eyes darting away from his for a beat. He followed your gaze, assuming you were looking up at the clock that hung on the wall.
The next time he glanced at you, you had placed the knife on the cutting board and were walking around the counter until you reach the door to his left.
“Were you waiting to come in, or?”
Propping the door open a bit, waiting as Harry walked the few needed steps over to you. “Yeah! I know you’re not open yet so –”
You moved aside, keeping the door open. “You can wait inside, if you’d like.”
“Thank you,” he said, after a slight pause. He was a bit shocked to have you inviting him in like this even with only a few minutes left until the shop opened.
“Yeah, no worries,” you closed the door behind him after he walked in. “Although,” you spoke again, already walking back to the counter. “I won’t serve you for another eight minutes.”
He could hear a small smile in your voice, even with your back turned to him. He only laughed in response, putting his bag down at the same table he sat at last time, secluded and tucked away in the corner and with the sun’s rays hitting the wall next to it.
Suddenly the music around him changed, mood going from loud and upbeat, to soft and soothing with what seemed like the volume being turned down quite a bit. Harry couldn’t see you form where he sat, but he heard the occasional tap turning on and whir of a coffee grinder.
He waited a bit longer, making sure it was past seven before he walked up to the register. You were standing in front of the espresso machine, swirling a little clear glass a couple times before you took a sip.
“Espresso this morning?”
You hadn’t moved from your spot, taking another little sip from the glass in hand.
“Please,” grabbing his wallet from his pocket, digging through for some folded bills. You walked the short distance to the till, standing in front of him with the counter separating the two of you.
Wordlessly grabbing the money from the counter, putting the order through and counting up the change. “Oh, keep the change.” He smiled, refusing your extended hand.
“Thank you,” you murmured, palm opening to let the coins fall into the tip jar in front of you.
He followed you, from opposite sides of the counter as you moved to the back where the espresso machine sat. “It might be a bit bitter,” your voice cut through the shop. “I’m still adjusting it a bit, so let me know if its no good.”
“Will do,” Harry nodded, hearing the whir of the grinder as you prepared his coffee. He didn’t know why he was suddenly finding himself so unsure of what to say to you, very aware of the emptiness of the shop.
A beat of silence passed, the only noise in the shop coming from the music blaring through the speakers. He’d never heard it before, quickly finding a liking to whatever you were playing.
“Have you heard from Janeen?”
The question took him aback slightly. “No, not yet anyway.”
You hummed from behind the counter, tapping the cup on the counter like you had last time, before placing it on a little plate and sliding it over to him. “I think they’re changing the current painting’s soon. She’ll for sure be in for that so I can ask her about it if you’d like.”
He beamed. “That would be great! Thank you.”
Getting a taste of the coffee you had just made him. “It’s good,” he nodded. “Not too bitter.”
Another moment of silence fell, and that would be when Harry should’ve grabbed his coffee and walked away but for some reason, he didn’t want to leave the counter just yet.
You broke the silence again. “You’re here really early for a sit-down coffee, and not a to go.”
“Is that odd?” Harry was curious of why you brought it up.
“I mean,” you only shrugged, moving from where you stood to do something behind the espresso machine he couldn’t quite see. “Not really but – usually early morning regulars who get coffee for here are above the age of sixty. At a minimum.”
Harry laughed, watching you fiddle with the blue mugs that sat on top of the machine. “I’m just up early I guess. I like the sunrise.”
You smiled in return, and Harry thought that maybe he hadn’t made that bad of an impression on you after all. He didn’t know why he was so suddenly drawn to this café, drawn to spending his free time here, but he warmed when you mirrored his grin.
But when he heard the door open behind him, and you moved to greet the customer that came in, he realized that it was simply your job to be nice to him.
“Someone’s here before me!”
Harry recognized the older man from the other day, the one who had called out your name when he said bye to you.
“I thought I got the first coffee of the day?”
You laughed, grabbing a cup from where they sat stacked. “You didn’t get the first, but you get the best.”
Moving to make Dani’s drink, pulling a shot and steaming the extra hot milk, bringing the cup over once the drink was made to where he sat at his usual table.
Harry had gone to sit back down, once again hunched over a black book with a pencil twirling between his fingers.
You took your time to fully notice his appearance. He loose fit blue jeans, with an off-white teeshirt that read something you didn’t quite catch, slightly tucked in. You had never fully noticed the tattoos that covered one of his arms before, only briefly catching glances of them but in this moment, they seemed to stand out even more.
His hair was falling over his forehead as he leant over the table, and you couldn’t help but admire the clear cut of this jaw that was apparent to you as you gazed at his profile. Your eyes fell back to his hands, fingers toying with a pencil. Even from slightly further back, you could see some green splotches of paint on his skin.
You were slightly curious to what he was doing.
Always a bit nosy, especially with customers that you recognized to come in more than once. Whether they were writing a novel, reading a book, working from home; you liked to see what people would come in to do.
Both you and Aleena loved to discuss the personal lives of regulars, mapping out your own stories for the lives your customers lived. Based off who they came in with and small tidbits they would share with you.
You liked to think that you were good at reading people, and that you could more or less understand people just based off small interactions.
It was obvious to you that Harry was going to become a new regular. He had already come in three times in the past five days.
You wished you weren’t working alone, because you found yourself needing to talk to someone about him. Although you knew nearly nothing about him. Only the fact that he for some reason liked bulletproof coffee, that he was an artist, and that he liked to wear vans.
Another thing you did know, was that making him his coffee was going to become part of your work routine.
He always ordered an espresso, sometimes over ice. From the few times that you walked past his table and stole quick glances at the sketchbook that he always carried, he seemed to be working on bright colourful sketches. Always using pencil crayons, and never pencils or pens.
He had become such a quick new regular, that even Dani was talking to him. The both of them often came in the earliest out of anyone else.
In the past three weeks, he had come in nearly every day that you were working. He usually came in bright and early, right after the doors were unlocked and would seat himself comfortably in the back.
On the days when you weren’t opening and would stay to close, he was already there and would leave sometime in the afternoon. A few times he came in later in the day, staying close to closing as the coffee shop emptied out.
He had kept asking you about Janeen, and if he could get his art up on the walls one day. You had seen her one day when he wasn’t there, briefly asking her about the process of how she decided about who’s art went where.
You knew that her little painting rotation ran in a few other shops around town. She said that she wasn’t looking for anything new for a bit, but she was keeping all the submissions she got on file.
“Did she say when she would start looking again?”
“No,” you shook your head, after repeating what Janeen had told you to Harry the next time you saw him. “Sorry. But I’m sure it shouldn’t be too long.”
Harry nodded, glancing down at the glass of water between his hands that he had gone up to grab, before you went up to him with the news from your talk with Janeen.
“Why isn’t it run through you guys?”
“What?”
“I mean,” Harry paused. “I’m just curious about how it works. Why is it Janeen who does all the art if she has nothing to do with this café?”
“Honestly I don’t know,” you told him truthfully. “The owner set it up with her, long before I started.”
“Oh okay,” he nodded. “It’s a neat thing, to have local art for sale like this.”
“It is,” you glanced at the art. “But honestly we don’t sell them very often. I think only two or three times in my time here I’ve seen one sold.”
That surprised Harry. “Really? I mean, I guess people don’t come for coffee to buy a painting. Still, it adds a nice atmosphere to the café.” He paused, watching your lips quirk up to a smile. “Would be nice to have my own art up, but…”
Your eyes narrowed on him slightly. “Can I see this art? That you so urgently need to put up in here?”
He tried to stop the beaming smile that was building, biting his lips together for a second. For once feeling like it wasn’t him incessantly asking you something or bugging you, this time you asking him something about himself.
“No,” he heard himself saying, watching your eyebrows jolt up in surprise.
“No?”
His smile was sly, idea forming. He quickly walked back to his table and ripped out a small piece of paper from his sketchbook. He turned back around, seeing you hadn’t moved from your spot by the register.
“Here,” he said once he returned to his side of the counter where he had left you. “I have a few pieces up in a show next week. It’s just for one night, at a little gallery downtown.”
Writing down the date of the show and the name of gallery, he handed the scrap paper over to you. “You should come.” 
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Let’s Talk About Norman
I’m going to start off by telling you all something you probably already know: Norman is abusive. I try not to use super strong language on this blog because calling someone abusive / toxic is a pretty big deal, but Norman is an abuser, full stop. Aside from the obvious physical violence though, there’s a lot of emotional trauma he causes Ruby through his actions— this post is mostly going to be talking about Norman’s emotional abuse and how it affects Ruby’s psyche and actions throughout the arc instead of just “oh he punched his son down some stairs” because I think it goes way deeper than that. With that out of the way, the rest of the post is below the cut!
PHYSICAL VIOLENCE
I can’t talk about Ruby and Norman without mentioning this— it’s the most clear cut evidence of his abuse on-panel. He punches his son down the stairs, engages in a high stakes fight with him, and puts him in mortal danger (which Ruby has to save himself from). What I’m concerned with isn’t the actual incidence of violence itself, but rather the emotional baggage that comes with it.
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The interesting thing about the Big Fight scene to me is that Norman instigates the conflict. Norman lures Ruby into a “dark and scary building” in the rain and away from others, appears behind him, threatens him, and throws him against a wall. The only thing Ruby had done in that moment is ask his dad how / why he had found him— Norman was the instigator of violence. It is Ruby’s reaction to this immediately violent start that segues into the next Big Thing about their relationship.
ENVIRONMENT OF FEAR
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It is obvious from the minute Norman appears on panel that he is intimidating. Multiple characters throughout the arc mention that they are scared of / intimidated by him, but none are more obvious than Ruby. In fact until we reach the scene at the Weather Institute, Norman hasn’t been shown in a positive light at all from Ruby’s perspective. Ruby continuously mentions fear about his father: he imagines his father grabbing him, looking angrily at him, and generally seems to be afraid of him. Ruby expresses worry and concern about the consequences of his father’s anger— and that’s ALL he thinks about. Ruby mentions explicitly that he has seen “Norman’s Dark Side” and tries to hide as soon as he appears. He even shivers at the mere mention of Norman. Ruby’s entire motivation is his fear of his dad, which is bad, obviously. 
Every thought about Norman that Ruby has up until the Weather Institute about Norman express fear and stress Norman’s emotional distance. Whether or not Ruby and Norman love each other is not of importance here, what is important is that Ruby has constant worry and anxiety about how Norman will react. His entire motivation at the beginning of the arc is centered around doing things behind Norman’s back and giving him definitive proof of Ruby’s accomplishments— Ruby is so nervous around Norman that he considers communicating to be a risk. This is typical abuse victim behavior and it continues through the arcs. Living under the constant threat of (often violent) punishment has taught Ruby that disagreements and communication in general are dangerous and can spiral into violence very, very quickly— he displays this same fear time and time again.
Quick Aside: As everyone here probably knows, the main conflict in the oras arc is centered around Ruby’s unwillingness to tell Sapphire what is going on for fear of how she will react. Ruby’s hiding of his memory of their confession in the Emerald arc is the same— Ruby refuses to communicate because he is afraid of how Sapphire will react. His main emotional flaw is the fact that he is driven by fear; Norman has shown him there are consequences to communication and Ruby carries this lesson throughout his entire life. He is a victim of abuse and this hampers his ability to communicate and be emotionally vulnerable. He is so caught up in the idea of consequences that he is more than willing to lie or omit the truth to avoid the consequences of talking to people about stressful topics. This is not to say that Ruby’s actions are excusable— he’s still a dick with communication issues, but whether or not Kusaka intended it, Norman’s abuse and its consequences define Ruby’s emotional arc.
ANGER ISSUES
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I can’t really talk about the environment of fear that Norman created without talking about his anger issues. He crushes a phone, shoves people out of the way, knocks multiple Pokemon out at once, and otherwise acts aggressively in various situations throughout the arc without any real Reason. As if these hints weren’t enough, we actually get confirmation through Ruby’s mother that Norman “does this often”— and judging by Birch’s reaction, these displays of destructive anger aren’t normal in in-universe. Whether or not there is a violent / strict parenting style within the universe doesn’t matter, because Norman is shown to be uncharacteristically aggressive in comparison to other adults in the series. Judging by Ruby’s reaction at the Weather Institute, he implies that his type of violence towards him isn’t uncommon; he seems almost resigned to it.
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To wrap up this section: Norman’s aggressiveness is atypical even in-universe, he is shown to be unable and unwilling to curb his violent anger, and this creates an environment of fear among his family that permanently impacts Ruby’s ability to communicate effectively with others.
PART 2
DISCLAIMER: This is where things get… dicey. Everything I’ve mentioned previously is rooted in the actual drawings and actions of the characters or overarching themes / problems. This next part however focuses on dialogue. It is almost impossible to truly understand the tone of each line without being a fluent Japanese speaker (which I am not) so instead I’m going to use Viz and CY to the best of my ability for this section. I’m not going to extrapolate this to Kusaka’s intentions, since without the original work that’s nearly impossible, but I can at least talk about the way these come off in English.
EMOTIONAL ABUSE
Admittedly, Viz is the worst about this. They constantly hype Norman up and excuse his behavior, outright censoring some of the physical and emotional abuse. Viz absolutely mangling the tone of RS, however, is a post for another time.
Because Norman actually speaks to Ruby at length a grand total of twice times in the RS arc, we can break down his actions into these two instances: the first is at the weather institute and the second is as he’s dying.
Rather than go based on overall theme, this scene is best done line by line (this is using the CY version due to limited censorship compared to Viz). 
Scene 1: Volume 17, Chapters 208-210
(Norman is dangling Ruby off the roof of a building by his collar. There are sharp rocks at the bottom)
Ruby: Re… release me…! Norman: Insolent brat!! Is that how you talk to your father?!
To start, Norman uses tone policing and deflection. He focuses on the fact that Ruby is “talking back” to him and making demands of his father, which doesn’t acknowledge Ruby’s request or the fact that Ruby is being dangling over the roof of a building. Also note that this is the first time the words are bolded and that they stay this way throughout the fight— Norman verbally escalates the fight. Norman is abusing his position of power over Ruby in order to excuse his actions and pass the blame back to his son.
Ruby: I don’t care how furious you are with me… I’m ready for it!
(Norman decks Ruby down a flight of stairs)
Norman: Why did you run away from home?!
Note once again that Norman is implied to start raising his voice first even when Ruby isn’t. There’s another deflection here: Norman changes the subject rather than actively respond to anything Ruby says.
Norman: Well? Say something! You’d better voice your complaints right now!!
(Ruby has a conversation with the Swimmer, who advises him to apologize to avoid his father’s rage and “just go home” which… fuck you Swimmer Jack. I’m skipping that part of the dialogue bc it isn’t that important).
(While Ruby is debating what to do, Norman’s Slaking lifts the stairs that Ruby is on and tries to fling him into next Tuesday).
Ruby is physically prevented from escaping by being dangled above Norman. I shouldn’t have to tell why physically preventing someone from leaving an argument is a bad thing.
(Ruby decides to fight Norman)
Note that Norman is physically and emotionally forcing Ruby into two possible options: Fight or be obedient. He is preventing Ruby from running and deflecting Ruby’s attempts to explain himself. He then shifts the blame to Ruby *again*, attacking Ruby and his pokemon with full force and implying it was Ruby who instigated the conflict in the first place.
Norman: … so you wish to fight me? … Iron Tail and Hyper Beam… I was the one who taught you those attacks. There’s nothing about your attacks and strategies I don’t know about. You’re just wasting your time! Give up!
Here, Norman does two things: he stresses Ruby’s dependence on him and his power over Ruby. It’s a typical “your success is dependent on me” and a “there is no option except obedience” rhetoric, and is likewise typical of abusers. Norman is stressing the things Norman has gifted to Ruby (battling knowledge) and using whatever he can to force Ruby to do what he wants— he’s exerting his control.
(Ruby turns the tide of the battle, so Norman likewise switches tactics by attacking Ruby himself and attempting to hit him with a staircase. Ruby falls down the stairs and is dangling over a pit of spikes when Norman stands on the edge, blocking Ruby’s only escape route).
Norman: Now will you come quietly? Stop being so stubborn
Not only is Norman forcing his son to choose between obedience and Literal Death, he also shifts the blame again. He excuses his own actions by claiming it is Ruby’s stubbornness that forced him into this position. He deflects the whole “putting my 11 year old in harm’s way” by claiming Ruby’s own resistance to Norman’s violence is the trigger for the violence itself. It doesn’t make sense, but it’s victim-blaming nonetheless and sadly, it works
(Flashback time: Norman admits he was going to give Ruby permission to participate in contests and gets emo about it. They fall, but Norman catches Ruby. This doesn’t matter though, because they both end up falling and Ruby uses his running shoes to save them both).
Ruby: (thinking) Ru- running shoes… my birthday present from dad… saved both… our lives
Ruby displays pretty typical abuse victim behavior here, focusing not on Norman’s 3 threats to literally kill him but instead on the One Good Thing Norman did. He doesn’t mention that it was Ruby himself who saved them both or that Norman was the one who put them in danger in the first place— he’s in total denial about the severity of everything that happened.
(At this point, Norman looms above Ruby with an angry expression and a raised pokeball. Bystanders panic because it appears that Norman is going to attack Ruby who, by the way, is unconscious on the ground, but Norman gets a surprise call from Winona and turns away after realizing that Winona can see him).
“I only stopped attacking my son when I realized people were watching”… alright fuck off then Norman
Norman: HEY!! Idiot son! You disobeyed your parents, then you ran away from home. I’ve had enough! Just do what you want! In return, you’d better accomplish your goals!! A man should complete what he has set out to do… … before he can return home!!
Hoo boy. Norman never apologizes, deflects all the blame onto Ruby, insults him twice, and then tries to save face with Winona and the people around him by giving Ruby permission to do contests— which he was apparently planning to do all along. He emphasizes the things Ruby did in response to Norman’s actions (Ruby ran away from home because he knew his dad would be unsupportive and gets violent during disagreements, so in essence Norman is to blame for backing him into a corner). Norman twists the narrative in order to make Ruby the instigator in every case, justifying Norman’s responses as reactions to Ruby’s problematic behavior
Swimmer Jack: Isn’t that a wonderful father? Ruby: Thank you… father.
Ok first of all Jack is a dumbass, so jot that down. Second of all, while it’s unintentional, Ruby is being gaslit to hell and back. It is only after Norman’s omission of all the abusive behavior and bystanders’ affirmation of Norman’s love that Ruby starts to think positively towards his father. The threat Ruby used to think was so large has been downplayed and outright denied by the people around him, so Ruby’s prior fear of Norman diminishes. Ruby’s fear of Norman and the violence Norman took against him is denied, downplayed, and ignored, so Ruby begins to doubt his own animosity towards his father. Thanks Swimmer Jack you unintentionally gaslit an 11 year old.
SCENE 2: (this one is much shorter, thank god)
(Norman, while he is dying, explains the whole deal with how he was ordered to search for Rayquaza yada yada. Throughout the exchange, Ruby gets increasingly upset).
Ruby: (thinking) barred from the test and forced to search for Rayquaza… It must be some kind of punishment! What could Dad have done to warrant such… why was he made responsible… ?!
Ruby: … … but… come to think of it, dad is not someone who makes mistakes easily… something’s not right!
Slight aside, Ruby has been so convinced of his father’s power by others that he is unwilling to even CONSIDER that his dad fucked up, which… wow!
Ruby: That day… Dad must have taken the rap for someone else… and… (flashbacks to Salamence Incident) that person… was….
Ruby: (out loud) … me?! That person who set Rayquaza free… was it me…?!
Norman: Yes.
And then he dies!
(Technically he says “oh I did all that out of love” (paraphrased) and then dies but it’s just a continuation of the previous thing).
Norman, before dying, does not say “I’m proud of you” or “I’m sorry for everything” or anything remotely comforting, instead he says “hey Ruby, you’re responsible for my death and all your childhood trauma alongside your friend’s. Peace.” (this is paraphrased).
Even on his actual deathbed, Norman places the blame on Ruby for Norman’s own actions. He makes Ruby feel guilty for Norman leaving, Norman hiding information from him, and Ruby’s tumultuous childhood.
CONCLUSION
None of this is to say that Norman doesn’t love Ruby or that Ruby doesn’t love him back— I’m fairly positive the two of them love each other dearly and want the best for each other. However, Norman is a child abuser who reacts violently, instigates violence, and then turns around and denies said violence. He creates a culture of fear among his family, gives Ruby some serious communication issues, and the narrative takes his side. Norman is a child abuser in canon and has a very VERY profound effect on Ruby which has emotional ramifications throughout Ruby’s entire character arc all the way until oras.
TLDR: Normans sucks man
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centrally-unplanned · 3 years
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Allocating Your Aesthetic Budget: Sailor Moon Edition
Sailor Moon is a show that undoubtedly built a powerhouse of a visual brand. Should I even bother posting a screenshot of the sailor scouts, given that I am 100% confident anyone reading this can recall them instantly? I guess it won’t hurt: 
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Anime is often really good at creating iconic designs like this, through repetition of the visuals. It is awkward in live action shows if characters just wear the same outfit every scene (what, they only own one outfit? Are they homeless/work in the tech industry?), but animation gives us enough aesthetic “distance”, an awareness that this isn’t accurate to real life, that you can buy into the conceit. By wearing the same outfit every time, it just becomes the character. Not to mention a studio can really save quite a few bucks by streamlining production with neat tricks like having only one character design to animate - when you are on a shoe-string budget, like pretty much every anime in the 90’s was, every cut corner counts.
What is interesting about Sailor Moon is that most of the time it doesn’t really use this conceit at all.
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Episode 15 of Sailor Moon’s first season has, in its opening act, this shot of all of the Senshi (at the time) talking to the plot-of-the-day character, who clearly trains rock Pokemon in 16-bit caves in his off hours:
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If you knew nothing about these three characters, you could probably infer about 80% of their personality just from their outfits. Usagi (the blond one in the middle, if that's necessary) is wearing:
Light pastel colours, with pink on top of that: girly, feminine, bubbly and breezy
Short-but-not-too-short of a skirt, and red heels: cares about fashion, wants to project an image of being a woman with a romantic hint to it
Long-twin tails w/ buns: Contrasting the shoes, she is still immature and childish. It also means she is the protagonist of an anime 
Rei (far right) rocks a very different look:
T-shirt and jean shorts, shoes over heels: sensible, practical, a bit sporty
Very short shorts, long black hair: Confident, a bit aggressive, and suggestive of a more overt sexuality
Ami (far left) settles into a more restrained vibe with:
Full, long, but sleeveless dress, bob-cut hair: Chaste, more conservative, but not to the point of prudishness; particularly with the length (and the hand posture, shielding her body) probably a bit shy
Monochrome blue colour in outfit & hair: reserved, serene, possessing a calm demeanor
I know I have seen the show already, but really none of these details are a stretch - this is just the language of fashion. And all of these outfits are outfits that the characters have never (or rarely) worn before up until this point. The cast of Sailor Moon, far from that animation conceit of “standard outfits”, change clothes all…
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the….
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time.
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     I just randomly clicked on episodes to find these, it requires no hunting
And while it isn’t always as spot on as the top picture, they all in some way embody the language of visual design to speak to the personality of the characters. If you want to see more, check out one of the multiple tumblrs dedicated to the everyday clothing the Sailor Senshi wear, because of course those exist.
If this was a 2010’s Kyoto Animation show, pointing this out would be the end of it - every one of their shows has this level of impeccable detail. Sailor Moon is notable in that it is not at all that kind of show; the animation and designs in Sailor Moon take perpetual shortcuts to get the job done. I don’t think the transformation sequences need to be belabored - the way they permitted the team to recycle identical animation sequences, multiple times per episode, was surely a godsend to the production schedule. Yet not all of the budget limitations are so prettily masked:
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     I’m sure they finished the background art in the...VHS release?
The show is filled with dirty animation, unfinished backgrounds, backgrounds that are a simple color gradient for no clear reason, and so on. It is clear that the Sailor Moon team did not have the resources for every detail - which is why the decision of what details they did choose to prioritize is so interesting.
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What is the point of Sailor Moon? I do believe that shows have “points”; and by that I don’t mean a message or theme but a core appeal to an audience, something specific that they will get out of the show. Almost every show appeals along multiple axes, and Sailor Moon is no exception, but I want to focus on one: aesthetic identification.
If you learn someone is a Sailor Moon fan, there is the obvious follow-up question you have to ask, namely “which Sailor Senshi are you?” It’s the which-Harry-Potter-house-are-you question of anime, a horoscope where you can choose your sign (in this case literally). The premise of this concept is not hard for media to execute on - it is just personality traits and aesthetics grouped together under a label, a basic building block of media and clickbait internet quizzes. Harry Potter, ironically, raised up its memetic question almost by accident, as its focus is so squarely on House Gryffindor that the others are almost forgotten; it was just so mind-bogglingly popular that it didn’t matter. 
Sailor Moon, however, takes this concept and allocates so much of its aesthetic budget into making it a centerpiece of the show. Sailor Moon herself is a klutzy, lazy romantic, Sailor Mercury is a shy, earnest bookworm, and so on, with none of them ever really becoming very complex characters. However, the show devotes itself to making you *feel* these archetypes as strongly and intricately as possible. All of those outfit changes are chosen because not only do real girls care about their outfits and can therefore identify more strongly with characters who do the same, but so they can constantly emulate their archetype in diverse, different ways. The show doesn't have the budget for intense action scenes, so after Sailor Moon engages in her hyper-serious transformation sequences, she proceeds to, nearly every time, bumble through the combat scenes like this:
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Oh sure, the scenes are done this way because it is funny (and good comedy can be done on any budget - these shots are frequently still frames with motion lines!), but it is also done this way because Sailor Moon is a total screw-up, and if you identify with that it is validating to see someone “just like you” able to pull off wins despite it all. The transformation sequences are not only beautiful animation that showcases aspirational power, but are also crafted to highlight the personalities of the Senshi in question - unless you think aggressive, combative Rei got fire powers by coincidence. Half of the run-time of every episode is spent, not on the plot du-jour, but on light-hearted personal squabbles between the cast because those scenes are not just funny, but also allow for far more moments of character expression. 
All of that work pays off in building with the audience, not a connection with a character who reflects their identity in total, but a connection that reflects one aspect of their identity in an extremely deep (dare I say multifaceted?) way. I think if you were to describe Sailor Moon as a “shallow” show, you would actually be right to say so, in a sense. These characters will never have the true depth of personality, themes and so on of a more ‘adult’ show. But those adult shows have to spend their effort somewhere - for all that the themes of say Evangelion or Paranoia Agent are pristinely detailed and impactful, you aren’t ever going to be memorizing the moves of their transformation sequences. The way Sailor Moon committed so strongly to fleshing out the archetypes the Senshi stood for is, I think, one of the keys to how this cast of five became so iconic.
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     Not even their school uniforms match! They had to spend time in-universe *justifying* this!
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A Final Note:
At least, everything I’ve said here applies to Sailor Moon at its peaks. The show, however, is not one without its stumbles, even in Season 1. This section doesn’t flow into the core essay too well, but I wanted to note it because if you were to watch Sailor Moon today, you might struggle to feel the dynamic outlined above. The biggest culprit here is the length - Season 1 is 46 episodes long, and sections of it most certainly drag. They also take a startlingly long time to introduce the cast - this choice builds tension around their arrival, but it also means the later Senshi get a lot less time to establish themselves. Sailor Venus in particular gets hamstrung by this - she is introduced and then immediately arc plot elements sweep the narrative, and so she is left as a hollow shell for some time. The pacing of the show is undoubtedly flawed.
I think Sailor Moon is a show that you do have to keep its time and place in mind for - namely, middle schoolers and anime nerds watching it on broadcast TV in the 90’s. As an adult you “get” the point of the show pretty quickly, and get satiated on it almost as fast. Watching it all in a few sittings only heightens this problem. For a younger audience, and one that is waiting for a week between episodes with no internet for plot reminders, all that extra time is needed to jog memories and build connections. And younger audiences just have that limitless commitment to the things they love! If you think no one could actually enjoy seeing the same transformation sequence for the 30th time, watch it with someone who would have died for this show when they were 10 and you will be disabused of that notion *very* quickly. 
Still, we can’t travel back in time - Sailor Moon is a show of its era. There are “filler-reduced” guides out there, though I caution that the plot of Sailor Moon is absolutely not the point of the show in comparison to the character dynamics, and so sometimes the filler is the best part (Cat-Rhett Butler is the best character in the show YOU KNOW I’M RIGHT). Certainly, however, some method must be used to cut down on its length. If you are going to be a first time viewer in adulthood, that reality should be kept in mind, and if you do accept it for what it is you can really appreciate its core appeal - and don’t forget to finish it off with a 1990′s era internet personality quiz to really wrap it up!
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laguera25 · 3 years
Text
I've toyed off and on for years with the idea of writing a story in which Richard's lady love used a wheelchair, but I've never done it because you wouldn't believe how nasty and cruel people can get about fictional characters enthusiastically tapping crippled ass; I can only how many orders of magnitude worse it might be in RPF, and I don't need the headache and the nasty messages reminding me that physically-disabled people are as sexually desirable as crotch rot.
But! But just think of the possibilities! Yeah, sex and love and all that, and Richard could happily have his multiple partner jamboree because there is just some sex Lady Love cannot have or isn't down with and she sees no reason for him not to get it elsewhere as long as he's ride or die for her and doesn't let their discarded clothing block her route to where she needs to go. So, yeah, romance, whooo! But also:
-If Richard went for a wheelchair Venus, you just know that boy would make himself an expert on the subject like he did with the stock market after it nearly wiped him out. He'd read books and talk to experts and scrutinize every building he went into to be sure his lady could get into it and move around with dignity.
And if she couldn't? Hoooo, you just know he wouldn't let that fly without kicking up dirt. He'd be tearing managers up one side and down the other in that pissy, nasally voice he gets when he's mad, and he would happily make a scene. Loudly and demonstratively. He'd be on the news nearly every week dragging some restaurant or venue for filth and complaining about accessibility issues.
He'd drive the rest of the band bugshit insisting that the venues they played needed to be maximally-accessible, and when somebody inevitably asked why it mattered because Lady wasn't coming to most shows, Richard would snap that it's the fucking principle of the thing, goddammit, and stalk off like a Persian cat that just got sprayed in the face with water.
Most of the band isn't that fussed about it, frankly, but Till figures if it matters to Richard, then he's all-in, so why not? Paul, the chaos gremlin, is only too happy to help Richard with some 3am hotel-room reno when his lady can't fight through the bathroom door. Hell, yeah! Till would rather be fucking a lady of his own, but fine, he'll act as lookout. And Flake, who sees the principle more than most, will use his devious mind to cook up a diversion. Christoph can be prevailed upon to crash his cymbals to cover the noise.
Olli just wants to sleep.
When the hotel discovers the "damage" the next day and tries to bill the band, Richard digs in his fucking heels and says they shouldn't pay because he wouldn't have had to tear up the room if it had been accessible in the first place. And that's the argument he makes in court. Loudly.
All his fussing attracts attention, and soon the band is getting sacks of mail from disabled folks thanking them for bringing attention to the problem. More disabled fans come to the shows to show support, and the disabled seating sections have to get bigger and bigger. Richard is unbearably smug.
They lose the court case because "You should've asked for an accessible room," or "The minimal accommodations were reasonable, never mind that your lady couldn't pee."
Richard goes right on tearing up hotel rooms because fuck that. He's going to die on this hill. Eventually, the band just factors impromptu hotel demo and associated court fees into touring costs.
After this happens about twenty times, the scope of the problem becomes clear. Hotels, anxious to avoid impromptu renos of their own, begin to make changes. They offer more accessible rooms and fuller accommodations. Disabled tourism increases, and local governments, sensing money to be had, pass ordinances to increase accessibility. It's not long before national governments take up the issue.
All because one very opinionated German with a very large platform fell in love.
And when Richard ties the knot to fucking spite the goblins who sneer at his beloved(and for love) and spends much of the wedding prep complaining about the accessibility issues there, Till just sighs and takes a very long gulp of wine because here we go again.
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fijiangecko · 3 years
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Maintaining a New Life
Chapter 8 - In Motion
Read it on AO3 here
previous | next
~~~~~~
The sun had risen and set 3 times since each group began their hunts. Each day providing no new information and the hope of keeping each other safe felt as if it was getting farther and farther away. Kuroo, Oikawa and Iwazumi split off into two groups most of the time, Oikawa and Kuroo walking around town while Iwaizumi kept an eye out for any Port Mafia patrols and your car.
Iwaizumi refused to be alone with Kuroo, stating multiple times that he would “rather gauge his own eyes out then look at the fuckwad who drove out one of his best friends”. A tad bit harsh for Oikawa's taste, but he maintained the peace between the two whenever they brought tension to the table. Kuroo doesn’t mean to be irritating but there’s still so much he doesn’t understand, and these two don’t help in answering his questions since they don’t know much about your past and why you left.
On your end of things, you decided to lay low during the day and do some rounds on the streets at dusk and dawn. Largely things remained the same for the Port Mafia: they operated on the schedule you created and stuck to the same routine based on what vehicles and hangouts you’d seen so far. 
Guess they really haven’t progressed all that much since I left, you think while watching the endless stream of cars. Washijo’s health wasn’t too good, and I can’t imagine it’s gotten any better with all the stress of transferring power and dealing with the mess that I left.
After little to no new information and more questions than answers, the weekend rolled around and the sun has started to hang lower in the sky. You lean against the counter in your kitchen, sipping on a cup of tea and listen to the birds sing from tree to tree. Looking to the clock, you sigh and set the mug down, heading towards the bedroom.
If everything goes according to plan, this whole operation should be relatively quick and you can just leave the club within an hour of getting in. You sift through what little clothes you have and get ready to blend in with tonight’s crowd; standard makeup, nothing too flashy, and a relatively short dress to match. None of your shoes really fit, so the black sneakers would have to do for now. 
With a deep breath, you take a final glance in the mirror and mentally prepare for whatever the night has in store. You double check that your car is stacked with any you could possibly need and rev the engine, taking the dirt road down onto the streets.
The sun starts to set over the horizon, leaving the bright orange orb blaring down on the asphalt as the tires roll down the highway. You don’t bother to turn on the radio, deciding to run through the plan and all of the backups you have prepared. Through public records you were able to find the new layout plans for “The Neon Nights”, so you knew relatively where everything should be and how to get to it. That didn’t always translate into action, though. 
Instead of chewing on your lip you moved onto the inside of your cheek, ripping it to shreds over the course of the past couple of days. You haven’t been this nervous in quite a while and it was really starting to fuck with your head. 
Confidence and assurance were two very different things but often got confused for one another. Back at the ADA everyone just believed you to be confident, and that’s not to say that you weren’t. You know you are one hell of a detective, doing the work that needs to be done and doing it effectively, but it was more so that you knew you were safe and around people that were relatively safe as well. Standard protocol in the Port Mafia was not to fuck with others that had gifts. Washijo always stated that it was to keep the peace on the streets, but that was total bullshit. At the very least, you knew that while the ADA was on their radar, there wasn’t anything that they would be able to do in order to harm your friends.
Now everything was uncertain, there was no more assurance. You didn’t know if they were going to be safe. Tendou always did what he wanted and Washijo just turned a blind eye to it. Now he knows that you’re alive and in Yokohama.
On top of that, he saw you with the two of your right hand men that left shortly after you and a new man from the ADA. Tooru and Hajime were found out because you got careless.
The Port Mafia is also aware now of who Kuroo is and that he has connections to you. There’s always going to be a crosshair aimed at the back of his head if you don’t get into that club tonight and do everything you possibly can to erase those damn records of not only your existence, but everyone you care about too.
You blink hard, letting the colors settle behind your eyelids before reopening your eyes and focusing on the road. The stream of thoughts that just crossed your mind had left your heart and head pounding.
Nothing will happen to them as long as everything goes as planned. I’ll find the data servers and wipe whatever I can then skip town. Again, you go through the plan as the last bit of sun disappears around the edge of the world.
 Coming to a slow halt, you park a few blocks away and walk the area in order to secure a teleportation spot and secure an escape route. The checklist in your mind finally had everything marked and every movement from now on was going to be almost robotic as you try to act like the crowd around you. Countless couples and parties line the edge of the building you once knew as a headquarters, the stink of alcohol present already from those who were leaving the venue for whatever reason.
By your lonesome you wait to meet the bouncer at the door, minutes passing as the line dwindles down until you can hear the muffled electronic music. The ground felt like it was shaking from the hundreds of people all dancing just a few feet past this wall. You peer around a few people ahead of you and make note of a pin on the bouncer's suit jacket, confirming that this club is still under mafia control.
You take another deep breath and just hope that news of your reappearance was just kept to the inner circle and henchmen like him weren’t informed quite yet of what was happening. The person in front of you walks inside the club, leaving you face to face with the man with shades. He looks you up and down, your heart picking up as you smile sweetly. Charm wasn’t your specialty but you know the basics. Without another moment to spare, he nods towards the mass of people and you quickly take your place inside the dark and dense room.
The music increases tenfold from when you were outside, feeling the bass changing the rhythm of your heartbeat. Hundreds of people crowd the center of the room, dancing to their hearts out while others line the bars stretched out on the walls.
You walk to the furthest side of the bar, mapping out where you are in your head and making note of little landmarks on the map you practically memorized. Figuring it would look more natural, you squeeze yourself in and order something. Partially to calm your nerves. 
“And the devil herself appears.” Chills run up and down your spine, the voice of whomever just spoke stopping you dead in your tracks. They lean in real close,from behind, lips grazing your ear, their breath warm against your skin as they whisper to you. “Nice to see you Y/N.”
Cautiously you turn your head and face the voice, only to be met with a head of bleached hair and a sultry smile. “Miss me?” He says while placing his hands on his hips.
“Terushima.” The tension in your body hadn’t quite left, unsure of where his loyalties are makes your mind run a thousand miles per second. You prepare to portal out of the club, but his hand on your wrist interrupts everything.
“Let’s have a chat in the back, yeah?” Before you even know what’s going on, you're being dragged to one of the side hallways and up a set of stairs. You take in the surroundings the best you can while being pulled along and realize that he’s taking you back to what used to be the main office area.
Terushima pushes open a set of doors into a lounge area. A large sectional couch faces glass panes that showcase the entirety of the club and a small personal bar and desk line the other two walls in the room. He lets go of the hold on your wrist and beelines it to the alcohol and starts to construct his own drink.
You’re stiff as a board in the center of the room, still taking in everything that just happened in the last two minutes. He watches as you try and create a plan, and laughs out loud at your distraught. “I’m not gonna tell anyone you know.”
It’s like your body snaps when you move to look at him. “Excuse me?”
“I said, ‘I’m not going to tell anyone’.” He strains his cocktail into a glass and saunters over to the couch, sitting himself down. “I really don’t do any work with the Port Mafia since I manage the club. There’s no real benefit to me telling them.”
“Wait,” you blink and scrunch your face together as you follow him down onto the couch, “you manage the club now?”
“Bingo.” The amber drink in his hands disappears slowly as it glides down his throat. “After you left and Tendou took over your position they redistributed everything and wanted to change our little jazz club into a full blow nightclub for the younger people to come and party. I was pretty much the only person around that knew how to keep everything relatively in order, so here we are.” The one free hand Terushima has open lifts up off of his thigh and plops back down in a sort of defeat. His chocolatey spheres hold your gaze.
“And you gave up on singing?” It’s an honest question. The last time you both had a serious conversation was when Terushima was the main singer for your aforementioned jazz club.
“No, more like I took a break. I couldn’t really say no to the Port Mafia so I put my career on hold.” A pained expression flashes across his face before returning to his previous position.
“I’m really sorry Teru.” You scoot closer to him on the cushion, setting your drink down on the table at the center and resting a hand on his shoulder. It was the best consoling you got considering this is basically your fault.
“Don’t be.” He can see the guilt in your eyes and quickly dismisses them. “You did what was better for yourself. Anyone who couldn’t see that you were unhappy was stupid and it wasn’t a suprise when they told me you were gone.” He rests that free hand on top of yours and rubs circles onto the back of your hand while reaching down to place his drink on the same table. “I just thought that I would never see you again, so spotting you by the bar tonight really shook me to the core, y’know?”
The smile that finishes his sentence is wicked, lips curling up at the end. There was always something left unsaid between you both; light touches here and there, lingering glances from across the dimly lit club room and the handful of “dates” (according to him) shared between you two. It never went anywhere; he being the flirt he was made you very nonchalant about his advances. Plus there was the matter of his gift that made things complicated, so it was just better for you to stay out of trouble the best you could.
Things are different now, though. Terushima didn’t cause your chest to tighten or make the blood in your system rush to your cheeks when you thought of what it would be like to be with him late into the night, curled into one another and just simply being. No, that spot now belonged to a tall, lean and dark haired man that weaseled his way into your heart and mind by using his shitty science puns and awkward dancing when he was almost blackout drunk. Those nights of wondering what life would be like with someone else no longer contained bleach blonde hair or a tongue piercing, but the easy comfort that came from Kuroo Tetsuro.
“Yeah, about that.” Your grasp on his shoulder tightens, other fist clenching “Tendou saw me a couple days ago and I’m pretty sure he’s on the hunt. I need to find the P.M. servers-”
“So you came here to find them.” He cuts you off, but doesn’t finish the sentence with a question. He might be a playboy but he’s been through the ringer once or twice and knows that you just didn’t show up tonight to see him. “Unfortunately they moved them a couple of years ago to create an arms deal station in the basement. To my knowledge they took all that stuff to Club Impac-”
Suddenly a young lady busts through the doors, drunkenly falling onto the floor with her eyes completely unfocused on the area around her. A man in a suit comes rushing down the corridor, targeting the woman on the ground.
With many apologies the guard pulls the woman rather harshly off of the ground and looks up to once again ask for forgiveness from Terushima, but meets your cold eyes instead. The spur of the moment interruption caused you to turn around in your seat and watch the events unfold.
Unknown to you, this man had worked under Ushijima for years and had met your eyes years ago. He recognized the dead stare you were giving him currently, but continued pulling the woman out of the room. A bitter taste fills his mouth as he shuts the doors, immediately ditching the woman by the restrooms and walking to the head of security to inform him of the guest that just happened to be sitting up in the lounge.
“Anyways…” Terushima continues filling you in on what has happened logistically within the mafia since your leaving.
Roughly 30 minutes prior to that conversation, miles out into the outskirts of the city the three men who have been trying to catch you at the right time huddled around a coffee table and went over their plan of attack one last time.
“You both got it?” Iwaizumi flicked the last piece of paper in a file down onto the hardwood, looking between the two taller men. Wordlessly they both nodded and turned to grab their respective bags with the appropriate clothes for the night. Oikawa’s outfit was a little more classy then the others to match his personality, Kuroo and Iwaizumi going for something pretty simple just in case anything goes haywire, but with their final touches done up they were ready to set out for the night.
“Do you really think that she’s going to be here tonight?” Kuroo asked Oikawa while Iwaizumi called a taxi. They were a little behind schedule and missed the train, so they had to opt for something quick.
“Out of everything we’ve done so far, I think this is our best chance at catching her. This club used to be a faux headquarters for her. I’m almost positive that she’s either looking for a certain someone,” Iwaizumi catches the tone in Oikawa’s voice as he spoke, making eyes at him while he finished his sentence, “or that she left something behind.”
They both knew that you were fond of Terushima, but they also knew that you had moved on from all of that. You had your eyes set on someone else. That still didn’t mean that you weren’t there for him, but the idea that it was anything but business was a little far fetched.
“So you guys used to be there all the time?” The taxi pulled up to the curb, waiting for Kuroo and the others to hop in. 
“Yeah. Every weekend she would have us come have drinks with her since we were her ‘groupies’, essentially .” Iwaizumi answered, using quotations with his fingers to get the point across. “It was more like a weekly check in but sometimes all we did was catch up with one another.”
The memories warmed his heart. He never once felt like he was working for you, but alongside you. You truly cared about their goals and ambitions, oftentimes ignoring the actual work that the Port Mafia wanted to get done and helping the citizens most in need. Coincidentally, that was how you made the most money and controlled the most area - the people liked you. Being in your squad was a different experience from every other job he had within the Mafia, and as soon as you disappeared he knew that he was going to have to get out sooner rather than later.
Oikawa felt the exact same way, and couldn’t imagine a life where he and Iwaizumi didn’t work together, so they devised a plan and faked their deaths in order to obtain what little freedom that would allow. Both knew that you weren’t dead, no matter how solid the evidence looked, and stuck their foot in the ground in Yokohama in an effort to find you. Two years later they accepted jobs as detectives with the ADA and walked in to see you, sitting at a desk, smiling and laughing with your fellow detectives.
The car ride was silent for the most part, the taxi driver asked a handful of questions before letting the radio fill the dead air. Iwaizumi kept track of how close they were and directed the driver to a few blocks off so they could walk up to the club (he really didn’t want to get this poor guy involved, so better to keep him out of it).
With a small wave from Oikawa, the boys head down the streets but their moods quickly shift as streams of people flood out of the building. The screams of hundreds fills the night air and the heavy footsteps of the three carry as closely as possible to the front entrance. Crowds topple over one another in an attempt to make it out safely as the sound of a single gunshot ricochets off of every surface, furthering the panic in the chests of innocents. Eyes flicking to every possible entrance, Kuroo feels deep down in his soul that you’re inside - you’re either the one firing or being fired at and either causes his chest to tighten, the neverending pit of anxiety at the bottom of his stomach somehow growing deeper. The three stand like a rock against a current of bodies, everyone just running past them and filling the space behind the group as they run.
Only a few moments before their arrival, Terushima and yourself were finishing your drinks and sharing a laugh when splinters flick off the set of doors, and single shot entering the room and shattering the large glass windows that look down on the dance floor. The initial panic takes a second to kick in before the patrons below start their scramble. Terushima’s instincts kicked in and he grabbed you rather harshly and shoved you down onto the ground, covering your body with his own.
“We know you’re in there Y/N!” The voice that spoke was unfamiliar to you, probably just some higher level goon that happened to know what was going on. While tucked under Terushima’s body, you open a small portal to the dashboard of your car and grab the handgun you left waiting. It always pays off to have a backup plan, you think while taking in the surrounding area. The men had yet to breach the room itself, leaving an opportunity for both of you to escape, whether that be jumping down onto the dance floor or using a portal.
“Teru,” his eyes focus on the door but you know he’s listening to your harsh whispers, “we can jump down and blend in the crowd-”
“No.” His jaw clenches, the lines on his face becoming harsher. “They deliberately shot at the window to lure us out there. The one talking is the head of this district so I’m sure every mobster in the area is here keeping an eye out for you.”
“Fuck…” your heart beats just as fast as your brain fires off thousands of different ideas. The crowd of people down below scream for help as they run out into the night and then another shot comes, this time it sounds like it’s from down below. In the crowd.
“Are they firing at civilians?!” Your mind spirals down. What the fuck are they thinking?
“One of those idiots might’ve thought that they saw you.” Terushima detaches himself from you and reaches under one of the tables, grabbing a hidden handgun and making sure it’s loaded.
As he checks the magazine, you muster up a portal big enough for a person to fit through, the other end looking out onto the streets. “Get in Teru. They’re after me.” You plead him with both your eyes and your voice, hands twitching around the cold metal of your pistol.
“Not happening sweetheart.” His smile is sly and coy, teasing you almost. “This is my club that they’re ruining and these people are my guests.” He gestures to the window and then to you, slowing the fall of his hand to emphasize his next words. “It’s my duty to protect them.”
Your lips tugs into a smile and you shut the portal. “Alright then.”
Down on the streets below the three men try to push up river through the endless streams of people running away from yet another shot. Women fall over, others trampling them in the fearful haze that covers the downtown. Iwaizumi rushes over and picks them up, shielding them from the hoards of shoes and getting them back on their feet.
SUV’s among other black vehicles speed around various street corners and men in suits start to surround the area, each fitted with different weapons of different calibers. Pressure grows in the small atmosphere of the downtown area, ears yearning to pop and get ahold of the situation but Kuroo doesn’t know if he would rather feel the throbbing in his head or the despair of hundreds.
Oikawa spins in circles, taking in every detail he can of the mayhem. Each of his senses feels like they’re on fire, enhanced from the sudden change in pace. It would be suicide to use his gift now, so the best he can do in trust his brain to intake whatever information is available.
The three converge after each attains their bearings and stand back to back. “What now?” Iwaizumi is forced to yell over the collage of sounds.
“We go in? I mean she’s gotta be in there, right?!” Oikawa shouts equally as loud, still turning his head around to look at the distressed faces. His voice comes out exasperated and rushed, his breathing picking up.
“Go in?! We can barely move five feet forward, how the fuck are we supposed to get in?” Kuroo takes the more logical stance, trying his best to find a solution to the problem at hand: what to do next.
Luckily, Oikawa, in his twisty turn around scavenger hunt, had spotted a fire escape on the side of the closest apartment building. If they wanted to get a height advantage and take a moment to clear their heads, that would be the spot. He shakes both of his companions shoulders and gestures his head to the ladder. Lightbulbs light up in their heads and slowly but surely they take small steps towards the iron bars, giving the people enough time to adjust to the change in current.
It only takes a minute or two to finally reach the ladder, Iwa hoisting Tooru with weaved fingers and will to lift with his legs, not his back. One handed, Oikawa pulls down the ladder and the three make their way to the landing.
The chaos seen from above is only less claustrophobic as it doesn't let their hearts take a moment to rest. Rather, showcasing the complete lack of control from anyone down below. Every person down below looks like a rat on the loose, caught at the wrong time as they scatter in all directions. Kuroo leans over the edge of the railing, trying to get a better view of the inside of the club.
“There’s a bunch of guys with guns pointed at the top room, part of the window was either smashed or shot at since it’s all over the floor.” Iwa observes to the left of Kuroo, also leaning over the delicate iron bars.
“Can you see in that top room?” Kuroo squints, but it doesn’t enhance his vision.
“Not really,” Iwaizumi starts to tilt his head in various directions, finding the best angle to peer inside that room. “Looks like there’s two people up there but I can’t make out any faces.”
“We should’ve brought Akaashi…” Kuroo mumbles to himself, at this point wondering everything that could’ve been different in this moment. “Well one of them has to be Y/N. I think that’s a given at this point.”
“That or she’s the woman one of the guys has hostage on the lower level.” Oikawa notes, gesturing to each of them to come to where he stands and uses his hand to try and guide their view to a better position.
You also take note of the hostage, peeking down from the remains of the windows. The thought that the Port Mafia is now so low that they would take hostages in order to obtain an ex-member leaves a bad taste on the tip of your tongue. Cold metal brushes your chest as you keep your gun close to your chest. Being as silent as possible, you carefully crouch around the room and get eyes on everything you can.
Terushima had taken off his blazer just a few seconds ago, throwing it over the edge of the couch and creeping closer to the double doors. He listens to whatever words he can make out through the veil of screams and footsteps, retaining only the name “Tendou”.
His head turns to yours from across the room, mouthing the words “Tendou is coming”.
With a clenched jaw, you turn back to the dance floor and see that two more girls were being kicked onto the ground, making a total of three hostages. Hands cover their ears as they plead for their lives.
“Alright Y/N! You’ve got one choice: you either turn yourself over right now or you sit and wait until Satori gets here and we kill those girls and Terushima!” Whoever spoke before loudy shouts again, the words bouncing off of every glossy surface of the club.
GODDAMMIT! Sweat builds in the palm of your hands, the bass from the speakers making the miniscule shards of glass on the ground shake; bits and pieces falling off the ledge and into various crevices in the tile. There’s really only one thing left to do, you think to yourself and Terushima watches as the familiar cerulean hue starts to color the very lines of your body. 
A portal opens to your left, the circle opening up to a view of the entryway of the building. From this vantage point you can see a group of men, all in suits and with their weapons either pointed at the hostages or the balcony. Without hesitation you aim the barrel of the gun at the closest guy and fire at his leg. The bullet enters his calf muscle, leaving through the shin and he immediately keels over. Other men are alerted by the sound and turn quickly to find the source. Like a trained soldier you close and open various portals, one at a time and in dissimilar spots to try and confuse them, and fire potshots at whoever catches your eye first. 
Arguing continues between Kuroo and Iwaizumi as they battle on what to do next; one trying to approach the situation like it’s made of delicate porcelain and the other ready to give blood, sweat and tears. Oikawa refuses to let his eyes leave the club, and it proves to be useful as rifts start to open and close within the confined space. His eyes dilate and once again he slaps Iwa on the shoulder mid sentence.
“What the hell Shittykawa?!” Iwa gnashes, foam practically running down the side of his mouth.
“She’s making her move.” Dominos start to fall, but for once in a very long time the two don’t know what lies at the end of the line. Kuroo can’t believe what he’s seeing - he’s only ever seen you use your gift sparingly and in desperate situations, never to an extent such as this. The last piece of the puzzle finally goes into place as it dawns on Tetsuro that this is life or death. There is no playing around and there are no wrong moves. 
“Alright Iwaizumi: I’m in.”
The aforementioned turns to him with a blank expression, a little unsure of what to do now. Oikawa watches as Kuroo claps his hands together and squats down and it hits him all at once; this is the first time he’s ever seen Kuroo’s gift in any capacity. Satisfied with the warm feeling on his skin, Tetsuro releases his hands and places them on the iron below, the space surrounding them glowing like they do.
In an instance, the vibrancy dies down and on the landing lies two items in a similar shape to hand grenades. A smirk tugs at his features and he states, “We’ll get in with these.”
Their jaws drop and Tooru starts to huff in disbelief, “I can appreciate your tenacity Kuroo-san but that seems like overkill.”
“Seriously…” Iwa adds sarcastically, slightly sticking out his arm to act as a shield between the two.
The smile disappears quickly and Kuroo brings a hand up to rub his brows. “They’re smoke grenades…”
Forming an ‘o’ with his mouth, Tooru starts to nod his head and Hajime drops the raised arm. “I knew that.”
Licking his lips, Kuroo passes one of the grenades to Iwaizumi and mouths “of course you did” to silently mock them. At least they share a brain cell.
Another few minutes pass, the gang of men make their way back down the ladder and into the frey. During that time you remain using the same tactic, effectively avoiding any unwanted attention from the growing crowd of henchmen. More had been called in after your initial shot, the head honcho making plays over the various walkie talkies. 
You close a portal and let your chest heave, taking long deep breaths and settling down. The spacing of your shots has been growing larger to keep the suspense up, but in this timeframe you create a mini portal to grab a new magazine and reload. You close your eyes and let the noise wrap you like a blanket, surrounding you and taking precedence over every other sense in your body. Right as you whip to the right and start to open a rift, the small tinks of metal on concrete are drowned out.
Slowly, smoke swirls around the dance floor, rising and expanding out in all directions. Another can sputter to life and causes the room to turn opaque. Light bounces around in rays that color the white sheet that now fills the room.
Right outside the doors of the club Iwaizumi charges up his ability, letting a firm feeling prick every inch of his skin before ramming himself through the doors. Tooru sticks to his back and fires at every shape he can make out through the fog, Kuroo acting as the kaboose and covering any stragglers that those two seem to miss.
From your end of things, the room starts to fill with white and immediately you shut the gateway, watching from your perch as the fog dissipates right as it reaches your feet. Terushima also evaluates the situation, deciding to take the chance and barge out of the doors and tackle whoever is closest. Unfortunately he didn’t think super far ahead and that leaves you in a compromising position.
Gunfire fills the hallways of the building, but the light that flashes up on the second level lets Kuroo know that shit’s going down. Without hesitation he leaves formation and hauls ass down the hall and up some stairs. Four men in total block his path to you, two being on the floor and the other two shooting in your general direction.  
It’s as if red seeps into his eyelids, rage pumps through his veins at a level he thought himself incapable. The barrel of his gun points down at the thigh of one of the standing men. As soon as the bullet hits its mark he rushes the other one and knocks him upside the head with the butt of the gun. In less than three minutes Kuroo had entered the building and knocked out two guys in order to rush to your side.
A wedge was pushed in the cogs in your brain, halting all functions and making your eye twitch. Kuroo squats down to meet your eye level and stares at you with piercing golden eyes. His pupils dilate when they meet yours which are full of confusion, then disbelief and finally annoyance.
“You fuckin’ asshole.” The words should be lost to the mirage of the night, but they’re the only things Kuroo can hear.
Almost scared, he reaches forward and curls his fingers around the flesh of your forearm and responds. “Let’s get out of here.”
Whatever shock that stopped your brain had washed over and now it felt like everything was moving too quickly in order to catch up. The fog was starting to clear and you can make out the figures of both Oikawa and Iwaizumi down on the dance floor below, watching each other's backs. Terushima stands near the edge of the balcony and joins them in taking down what seems to be an endless stream of goons.
He turns to you and winks, a silent goodbye as Kuroo grabs a tight hold of your arm and pulls you off of the ground. It’s a blur as you leap over several unconscious men and down the stairs. Whatever crowd was left was thin at best, no civilians in sight and many mafia members toppled over. Iwaizumi steps backwards towards you two, Oikawa shifting himself so the three act as armor around you.
Just as swift as the entrance, the boys shove you along and out into the streets. The screeching of tires alerts the four of you, yet another SUV speeds down the narrow streets of the downtown.
“Fuck” you whisper and get your bearings. Your legs are quicker than your brain and you shout, “follow me!” Your two fellow ex-members are already by your sides and Kuroo lags behind. Quickly you throw the keys to Iwaizumi. “When we get to the car, just drive. Doesn’t matter what streets you go down.”
Yet again Kuroo watches as the three of you work together like a well oiled machine, Hajime practically ripping the door off of its hinges and shaking the car as he sits. Tooru follows suit on the passenger side and deja vu strikes hard once Kuroo gets his but down into the seat.
Iwaizumi revs the engine and rapidly turns the wheel from side to side as the car skids and jolts into the center of a major road.
“Whatever happens, just keep her in the center of the road!” You whirl around and face the rear windshield, spotting the vehicles that now tail you all. Luckily the night means less traffic and Hajime can keep to the center of the road. Whoever was driving this late at night veers out of the way as the street turns crowded with several cars turning corners rather fast and joining in with those that already follow you.
You roll down the window next to you and start to shoot blindly out of the side, not daring to stick your whole body out of the car like last time due to the sheer amount of firepower that would be sure to hit you. Kuroo and Oikawa do the same as you, Kuroo ducking his head while doing so just in case any bullets come flying in through the back window and Oikawa tries to use the side mirror to aim his shots. 
Not even two minutes since this drive began and cop cars light up the road ahead, about three quarters of a mile in front.
“Uhh Y/N! We got a problem!” Iwaizumi white knuckles the steering wheel and starts to turn it, planning on going down one of the side streets to put all threats behind your car. You whip your head around and evaluate the situation, quickly realizing that this is an opportune moment for something you’ve been keeping up your sleeve.
“You better keep this car in the center of the road Hajime or so help me God I will kill you before anyone else has the chance!” You scream and place yourself in the center of the back bench which gives you a relatively clear view of the road. Breathing in through your nose and out with your mouth, you clap your hands together much like Kuroo did earlier in the night. Continuing your breathing pattern, Hajime returns the car to the center of the road.
“Step on the gas.” You command, your eyes closed in concentration.
“Y/N are you sure?!” There wasn’t a hint of doubt in Iwaizumi’s questioning, but more of a confirmation of action.
“Just fucking do it!”
The clock ticks down as both forces start to close in. Five seconds before impact: the cops are unsure what to do. Some stopped their vehicles and were preparing road spikes while the others continue charging forward and speak through the sound system, warning you all of what’s going to happen. The Port Mafia also starts to slow down as they are just as confused as the police. No one really knows what you have in plan, but those in charge of each group are determined to get to the bottom of things.
Four seconds to go and the pit at everyone’s stomach grows a size larger; a faint sapphire glow emanates just from your hands and Kuroo watches curiously. The phrase trusting someone with your life had never meant much to him, but in this moment he really understood the complete lack of control he has.
Three; Oikawa sits up right in his seat and straps himself in, also closing his eyes to alleviate the stress of the scene before him.
Two; the glow around your fingertips has grown exponentially into something almost blinding. Iwaizumi steadies the wheel and fights the urge to jerk the car.
Right before impact with the front runner the view of a country road lined with trees fills Hajime and Kuroo’s eyes. The car barely fits into the rift and bounces up and down. You weren’t able to align the two roads perfectly off of memory, so you opted to have it a little high up. Kuroo checks behind them and the road is empty. No sight of any buildings or vehicles - just a clear sky and the wilderness that surrounds them.
Tooru didn’t realize he was clutching onto his chest strap until he opens his eyes and lets out a breath he was holding. Hajime adjusts quickly to the new territory and slows the car down some, leaning back into his seat. Kuroo, amazed that you were in the clear, turns to you, but your head is lolled to the side. 
“Y/N?” Ever so gently, he shakes your shoulder and your eyes crack open. You turn to face him and blood is streaming from one nostril, down your face and dripping onto your shirt. He freezes up, just now realizing how much this whole ordeal must’ve taken out of you.
A tissue appears in front of both of your faces, Tooru’s hand attached to it. “You always pull that stuff off last second even though you could’ve just done it as soon as we got in the car.”
“Fuck off,” you sound drained and totally devoid of any emotion. “If we can get out of it without having to port out then we’ll do it that way, but the cops got in the way.” You take the tissue and start to wipe up whatever you can, your movements slow.
“Are you alright?” Kuroo is unsure of his place, a total contrast from inside the club when he was the most assertive you had ever seen him.
“Loaded question.” You want so badly to drop them off on the side of the road and hope that they just leave you alone, but your eyes blur every few seconds and you know that you are in no position to drive. Several emotions bubble up at the thought that they kept looking for you, put their lives on the line to find you and actually ended up saving you.
Effectively dodging the question, you slide back over to your side of the car and place your head on the window, giving Hajime directions to your home. They’re smart enough to know that now isn’t the time to talk, nor is it the time to ask questions like “what’s next?” and so on.
The high beams of your car light up the large house at the end of the gravel road, your headache nearing its end and the boys all ogle at your property. A flick of his hands and Iwaizumi turns the car off, then steps out into the cold air. He takes a few steps back and precariously opens the door you’re leaning on. With careful consideration, he crouches down and tries to let you use him as a crutch, but in all the time you had to think on the ride here, you shove him off and stumble a bit.
Gaining some balance, you speak with an unwavering tone. “What you did tonight was stupid. All of you.” You turn and meet each of their eyes, Kuroo and Oikawa still on the other side of the car. “I explicitly told you all not to get involved and still you fucking showed up.”
They all freeze at the accusatory finger you’re pointing and watch as you start to back yourself up to the entryway. Iwaizumi, who normally decides to let Tooru charm his way out of things, is the first to speak. “You’re right.” His eyes bore into your own, but he continues. “But that doesn’t change the fact that if we weren’t there you would’ve been fucked.”
“As if.” You spit back, not thinking clearly as you’re more focused on getting your own point across. Hajime only started fights when he thought it was absolutely necessary. This didn’t cross your mind, but Tooru’s as he realizes the upcoming screaming match. 
“As if?!” His voice booms over the forest, possibly shaking the leaves on the trees. “You were backed into a fucking corner Y/N! For god's sake, did you think Terushima was gonna be able to help you out of that shitshow?” He stops his assault for a moment, seeing if you would answer but you grind your teeth instead. “You needed our help. We’re the ones that got you out of that situation-”
“Hajime-”
“No Tooru! She doesn’t get to disappear behind everyone’s backs and tell us NOT to find her! Especially not us.” Tooru purses his lips, knowing that he’s right. Tooru would’ve thought that maybe after the first day or two you would contact them, allowing them to help, all things considered. He knows where Hajime is coming from and ultimately decides to let him continue. “She sure as fuck doesn’t get to tell us that we didn’t help either. I know damn well that once we all cool off you’re gonna have to apologize and admit to me that I was right.”
“That still doesn’t change the fact that you still decided to follow me.”  You're quick with your rebuttal. “I’m trying my best to protect you all-” A cackle catches you mid sentence, and you watch as Iwaizumi rests a hand over his face and laughs, shoulders shaking. “What? What’s so hilarious Hajime?”
“Do you really think that we need protecting?” His eyes peek through the cracks in his fingers, a sly smirk curling his lips.
“Maybe you don’t but the Port Mafia knows now that I’m involved with the agency. For the safety and protection of everyone I need to erase myself from their records and go away.” This is your retreat. You can feel your own arms wrap around your form and start rubbing slow circles into your sides. The more you think about it, the more you realize that you’re just pleading for them to live. Or pleading with them to leave you with the idea that they’ll be living a peaceful life without you.
“You do know who you’re talking about, right?” Iwaizumi takes his hand off of his face and glares at you. “You got Bokuto, who is an accidental genius; Sugawara and myself who act like human shields; Tanaka and Nishinoya who are the wildcards; Kenma and Asahi who can heal practically any injury and Kuroo, who can literally create a bomb if he has the right materials within his vicinity.” As he lists off the various members he sticks fingers up and counts. “I don’t think they need as much protection as you seem to think. I bet everyone’s losing their shit right now since you just walked out and now the three of us have been M.I.A. for almost a week.”
While he presents a pretty good argument, it feels like it just goes in one ear and out the other. Your only goal right now is to get them to understand that you don’t want them here. Anything you can do to save them is the top priority, and having them here with you is a fucking nuisance. “I don’t give a rat's ass about any of that! You and Torru have seen what the Port Mafia is capable of and there’s is nothing that is going to stop them from finding me! If that means blowing up the agency building, they will! You know Tendou will do anything and Washijo will just let him!”
“Y/N.” The desperation in your voice is becoming more apparent with each word as your sentences speed up and your tone gets higher and higher. Oikawa walks around the car and stands next to Hajime, taking your beat of silence as a cue to speak. “You know you can’t say that anymore. We haven’t been with them for years. Washijo might be too sick to even speak.”
“Plus everyone at the agency knows what this job entails.”
“You don’t get to talk Tetsuro.” He stands behind the two, and honestly your rage was so hyper focused on Oikawa and Iwaizumi that you forgot he was there. You snap at spit back. “It’s not a matter of knowing what they signed up for more than a problem of the Port Mafia doing whatever they want.”
“That’s why we’re here to help you.” Tooru still stands between you and the others, the mediator. “You know that we’ll do everything we can, everything you say, in order to protect them. Tendou didn’t just see you that night. Obviously he doesn’t care all that much about us but we’re on their records too so it’s not just your problem.”
“I can’t fucking do this right now.” It feels like no one is listening to you, just throwing water in the tank you’re already drowning in. With a sigh and balled fists, you come to a hasty decision. “You can all stay here tonight. I expect you to be gone by midday.” Without a chance to speak, you storm into the house and start preparing mats for them to sleep on.
Tooru runs his tongue over his teeth, lips shut and starts tapping his foot. There were a thousand different possibilities for how tonight could’ve gone - this being one that wasn’t on his radar. Hajime feels the frustration bubble over, but he knows there’s not much else he can say that will get to you. Focusing his attention on Tooru, he pats his shoulder and says, “She’s not gonna budge. C’mon.” The two walk into the house, following the lights and let you finish preparing their room.
Swiftly you finish fluffing the pillows and brushing past them, avoiding any contact, any chance for them to stop you. You slide open the door for the next room over and raid the closet, setting the room up for Kuroo.
“Y/N wait.” For one reason or another, you stop your actions and look to the aforementioned, him standing in the doorway. With a final push of your muscles, you throw the mat down on the floor and wait for what’s next. “I just wanted to say that- that I want to do everything I can to help you. I know it’s not much but Iwaizumi and Oikawa have been doing so much and I really think that-”
“Go to bed Kuroo. You guys are gonna have a long day making your way back into the city tomorrow, so you’re gonna need all the sleep you can get.” You shoulder check him, leaving the room and the yet to be unfurled bed mat on the floor.
In the late hours of the night you find yourself tossing and turning. The entirety of the past few hours replayed in your mind, every situation rewinds and restarts as you analyze the points that the guys made. You wouldn’t have lived through last night if it wasn’t for them. There’s no way in hell Tendou wouldn’t have gotten his hands on you if it wasn't for them.
You sit up, sweat dripping off of your brow bone and everything starts to feel like it’s closing in. The four walls around you feel like hands around your throat and your chest heaves. Throwing off the duvet you stand up and stretch, the small pops and clicks from your back. After a few moments you slide open the door and step into the hallway, heading to the kitchen to start a kettle.
Maybe you were being a little harsh on them earlier. Tendou was a real threat and only sought you out, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that whoever that boy was with him a few nights ago seemed to recognize you, Oikawa and Iwaizumi. They were there with you through thick and thin when you had to organize almost half of the mafia’s patrol cars, pickup sites and so much more. You went above and beyond to prove to that old fucking geezer that you deserved to be in your seat as an executive. Tooru and Hajime did nothing but support you, even after they discovered that you did in fact fake your death and worked as a detective in the same city they thought you abandoned. Even after that they still treated you like nothing happened.
The kettle whistles and you take it off the heat, trying your best to stay as quiet as possible in the early morning hours. Preparing a tea strainer and some leaves, you grab a mug and start to assemble everything. As the tea steeps, you open the back door and let the cool breeze engulf your body. 
The wood that covers the porch is cool to the touch, the soles of your feet uncomfortable, wanting to go back inside but you continue forward. The only things warming you under the cascade of stars is the mug between your hands and a blanket you placed around your shoulders. You venture off of the porch onto the soft moss that tickles your toes. Further into the trees is a small creek, in which you placed a few hardwood chairs.
No distractions, you allowed yourself to continue your train of thought from earlier. Once it fully settles in your consciousness that they are in their own right to want to be a part of this battle. Just as much was on the line for them as it was for you, and it never really hit until now. 
So what would happen if I let them stay?
This was the real kicker. And before you knew it, you were going through every possible scenario you could think of, listing the pros and cons of having a team to work with rather than only relying on yourself. 
The moon shifts throughout the night sky as you get up a few times to refill your cup, and before you know it rays of sunshine start to peer through the fog that settles under the canopy of leaves. With a new piping cup in your hands you resume the various tracks of different decisions. Inside, Kuroo slowly cracks open his eyes, the sunshine peeking through the blinds and the birds chirping. In the other room Iwaizumi sighs heavily and looks over Tooru. Shadows define his jaw and cheekbones, even accentuating the curve of his lips and the flutter of his lashes when he finally opens his eyes.
“G’morning.” Hajime’s voice is scratchy, his eyes red from the haziness that comes in the morning.
“Morning.” With a smile, they both take their time getting up and ready for the day. 
Kuroo straightens out his clothes (which he slept in) and walks out into the living room. He notes the kettle and jars of loose tea leaves on the counter, also noting that you’re nowhere to be seen. The door to your room is open as well, arousing his suspicion.
A glance passes between the two men as they each put back into their clothes. First it was Hajime trying to catch a glance at Tooru, and then vice versa just a few seconds later. They stumble around one another, pick dusting their cheeks but neither speaks.
A knock at the door interrupts their game of cat and mouse along with a voice. “Have you guys seen Y/N?”
Hajime finishes the buttons of his shirt and slides the door open. “No? She’s not here?” It’s like last night all over again, the panic bubbling in his chest.
“I haven’t seen her at all, and her room’s empty. I think she’s around since the car is still here and there’s stuff on the counter, I was just wondering if you guys heard or saw her?” Kuroo fidgets with his fingers, picking at the cuticles with his nail.
“You checked all the rooms?” Hajime takes command of the situation, stepping out of his room and into the living space.
“Yeah, all empty.” Kuroo follows him and Oikawa behind Kuroo.
“Well the back door is open, so…” Tooru nods towards the door although no one sees it.
Without another word the trio walk into the forest, taking in the scenery before them. Calm was the one word that came to mind. Branches crunch under their heels, alarming you to their presence. 
They can see your figure up just ahead and slow their roll. Kuroo stops in his tracks and just looks at you bathing in the golden sunlight, hair disheveled and eyes baggy once you finally turn and face them.
“Morning boys.” You sound and look tired, each of them knowing that you probably didn’t get any sleep at all but continue down the path to meet you. With a single gesture you get them to sit in the chairs beside you. You say nothing as you drink the cold tea - or what’s left of it at this point.
“What’s going on up there Y/N?” Oikawa pokes his temple and looks at you with the most sincere eyes. It’s not like the question wasn’t just on his mind, but the silence was starting to kill him.
“I did a lot of reflecting last night,” you start, setting the small cup onto the moss and straightening up. “For starters, I hope you all can forgive me for the way I treated you last night. It was unfair and I finally get that we’re all fighting for the same thing. You all have just as much reason to fight the Port Mafia as I do.” You make eye contact with each of them individually as you try to convey remorse. 
They each take it the same, knowing that adrenaline was high and that you meant the best for all of them. If anything, Hajime knows that the both of you will need to have a one on one conversation later to clear the air. 
“As for what I said last night,” you turn your eyes downward, knowing that you can’t bear to stare at their eager eyes, “I thought about it, and I want to take it all back. If you want, I could use the extra hands.”
Silence settles again, but Tooru doesn’t let it last long. He stands up from his chair and rushes over to give you a big hug. His arms encase you and he puts his head close to your shoulder. “Thank you.”
It catches you off guard, but tears build in your eyes. What did you ever do to deserve them? “Of course. I knew you guys weren’t gonna leave me alone once you knew where I've been hiding.”
“Damn straight.” Hajime joins the hug, placing his head on your other shoulder.
Kuroo stays in his seat and watches the scene unfold, not wanting to ruin a second reunion. He goes back to fiddling with his fingers and looking at the ground until the three of you break off from one another. You walk over to him and place a hand over his, preventing him from doing any more damage to his hands. Maneuvering them in a way to grasp one of his hands, he looks up at you, the rays of sunshine behind you, filling the forest.
Holding onto his rough hand and smiling down on him, you say “Let’s get to work.”
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@.JaneyPowellx: This has been something I’ve been debating doing for a long time now and it’s never really felt right. Even now, with all of the words on paper, or typed on to a digital page, it doesn’t feel right. I found writing fiction through the desperate need to escape reality & I’ve done everything in my power to keep them separate. Whether your favourite work of mine is Harry Potter, The Selection, We Were Liars or Twelve, you’ll never find me in them because they’re idealised situations in world’s that could be just around the corner or in far off places. 
This story is different. It isn’t fiction and it isn’t escapism. It’s set in the real world and within the 21 years I’ve been alive. If you’re holding this book in your hand after purchasing it or have just downloaded it from my website, I’ll be bold enough to assume you already know the basic premise of the plot and you already have your expectations. There’re different versions of this story on true crime YouTube channels, in the newspapers and on blogs, some written with a good lot of research being done and others written just for clicks. It’s been a hard thing to accept, but all of them are somebody’s experience of the event and therefore hold a certain degree of truth. 
This is just another version of a story that you might have heard before, this time told by me, Janey.  CHAPTERS 1-3: TRIGGER WARNINGS THROUGHOUT FOR ABDUCTION, ASSAULT/HARASSMENT, DRUGS & ABUSE
//OOC: This isn’t a full on story, just the outline! I think it’s taken her ages but she’d definitely record like a diary-styled retell of everything that happened to her involving the abduction that happened when she was 15. It’d be super cheap and available in stores AND online but all the profit would be go to appropriate foundations. 
CHAPTER ONE - Happy Birthday! 
In this chapter, Janey would start out by describing her fifteenth birthday. The year before, she’d seen Harvey, her older brother, cross a milestone - his sweet sixteenth. Therefore, the expectations for her birthday were pretty high. She was expecting the big party, huge balloons, special presents, a sip of alcohol and extra privileges but alas, she was only turning fifteen. Her parents were very clear about birthdays, drinking and other rules: 16, 18 and 21 were the milestone birthdays, otherwise parties were smaller and inexpensive. 
She’d go on to explain how she’d been sulking all day because of it and explicitly remembers refusing to blow out her birthday candles after dinner. It would be something she’s embarrassed by now but at the time, it was perfectly reasonable. She’d mention that most people who only know the twenty-one year old her wouldn’t recognise fifteen year old Janey. A moody teenager who insisted on dressing like Jade West from Victorious and took way too much interest in her pink flip-phone (another thing she wasn’t happy with, seeing as Harvey - being 16 - had recently got a better one).  
It’d talk about how her parents were firm but fair and well known in Violet Springs. Her Mum was a teacher and, to Janey’s horror, actually taught her in Year 7. Her Dad is an independent photo journalist who mainly covers local sporting events. She’d explain how they’re amazing parents and even if fifteen year old her couldn’t see it, they were equally amazing to Harvey, Annabel and herself. 
Janey would go back to writing about having serious middle child syndrome and never making life easy for her parents. She wasn’t “naughty” but definitely pushed boundaries by breaking curfew, getting in trouble in class and talking back a lot. She’d confess that she cared a lot about being in the “right” crowd in high school. Deep down, she was always a naturally quiet person but felt the pressure to be as loud as the other girls. She wanted attention, and to be popular, and for boys to like her; that was all that mattered & if she knew then what she knew now, she probably would’ve slapped herself because she has no doubt that that’s what ultimately led to everything going wrong. 
She’d mention that her birthday is the 19th of March (and she prides herself on being a true Pisces as it’s also her moon sign). It also gave her a couple of months until summer, where she and her friends planned her REAL birthday party since her parent’s wouldn’t give her one. They’d decided that they’d go to the open fields in between Lilac Heights and the Cotswolds (?) during the summer and drink, get high and just have a good time. She’d explain how the group of girls she was friends nearly all had older boyfriends who were in college and it was easy to get a hold of stuff they probably shouldn’t have been having. 
Janey would talk about how the field has become iconic for completely different reasons now. If you google it, you won’t have to scroll very far at all to see pictures of it sectioned off when the police were searching for her. But, that summer it was beautiful and everybody was tanned, having fun and happy to be going into the last year of high school. Janey would explain that she’d always been insecure about not having a boyfriend, but she and her friends planned to change that because one of their boyfriend’s was bringing a guy who she’d been speaking to online. He was 22.  
The end of this chapter would be romanticised and Janey would reflect on how it was the last time she was ever “old Janey.” Her plans had been to sneak back in through Annabel’s bedroom window and get into bed before her parents even suspected a thing. But, that never materialised. 
CHAPTER TWO - As It Happened. 
In this chapter, Janey would mention that she’s going to tell everybody exactly what happened that night. Details the police couldn’t even figure out when they tried to piece it all together. There’d be a trigger warning that she’ll be mentioning drinking, harassment and abduction but would promise that it isn’t graphic.
The first part would be about how the field party was a typical summer thing; hot weather, people drinking and having fun as well as sneaking off into the forest (but not too deep) to do god knows what. She’d talk about how she ignored the constant texts and calls from her Mum when it got dark, and how she was drunk. It’d also cover that she was introduced to the friend of her friend’s boyfriend  and even though he wasn’t her type, she was excited about the attention. When it got too dark to see anything, most of her school friends decided to call it a night but Janey went to Downtown Springs with the guy she’d met and his friends because they promised they could get her into Indigo, which they did. 
Most of the night was fun; she was bought drinks, there was lots of flirting and she felt special...which is kind of the hole she’d been trying to fill throughout her teen years. She’d definitely then mention that the guys she was with and every person like them exploit people who aren’t feeling their best and would talk about surrounding yourself with people you trust and not just people who are giving you what you want. 
At one point, the boyfriend of her friend (who was now at home) started getting really loud and rowdy. To this day, Janey doesn’t know if it was genuine or just an act for an excuse to get her to leave the club with them and not go home like she’d planned. They were kicked out before it was midnight and she’d vividly recall passing a few people from school (including Wes and Nate - her ex, I think!) and chatting to them for a little while before the guys she was with mentioned their friend was having a house party in London. Nate specifically asked her to stay but she was set on having fun on her birthday and left with them. 
She’d talk about seeing familiar buildings of Violet Springs turn into intimidating city offices and the roads getting wider as they entered London. The atmosphere in the car shifted slightly but at the time, she was too drunk to even notice. Neither of the guys said anything to one another or her & it gives her the chills now to know that in that moment, she’d been abducted, but she didn’t know it. They got out of the taxi and Janey remembers being embarrassed about not having enough cash on her to pay for her third of the fare - something trivial now - and one of the guys just paying for it without much fuss. 
Once they stepped outside, she saw they were stood in front of a tower block that was almost completely silent. No sign of a party. That’s when she started to hesitate but was too shy to say anything; she was in a weird part of London at 11:45 with nobody she knew and no money. Also, she was sure she was just overreacting. One of the guys said that the party was on the top floor which is why nobody could hear it and even faked a phone call with the “host”. Janey took the elevator up to fifth floor with them and again, felt as if something weird was going on because the top floor was the seventh. This also ended up being something that confused the police in her investigation; witnesses who saw her enter the tower block had overheard the conversation and couldn’t piece together WHY she wasn’t seen on the seventh floor or who’d even supposedly had the party. 
She’d explain how the flat they entered belonged to the friend of her friend’s boyfriend and how eery it felt when it was completely silent. She asked multiple times about the party and both guys said they’d go up soon, but they wanted to have some more drinks and smoke before going up so that they were on everybody else’s level of being completely fucked. Janey remembers sitting on the arm of the sofa and realising how gross and dirty everything was. She wondered how someone who was 22 had given up already and remembers seeing pictures of her parent’s starter home at that age and how pretty it was by comparison. 
The longer it took for them to go back up to the party, the more anxious Janey got. Eventually, she excused herself to go to the bathroom and decided that she’d have to face her parent’s consequences and ask her Dad to come and get her. She panicked even more when her phone wouldn’t switch on and she realised it was dead...meaning, she’d have to borrow money to get home. Once she came out of the toilet, she half debated leaving without them knowing because she just had a horrible feeling but felt like that’d be rude. So, she went back into the living room and asked to borrow a phone. That’s when things shifted completely and fun flirting became intimidating harassment; sleazily flirting with her and telling her not to be boring. One of them even insisted on kissing her to shut her up but once she got really upset, they agreed to take her home on the basis she’d have one last drink. She did, and it was spiked, which made her pass out. 
The next day she woke in the bedroom of the same apartment, still fully dressed - something she was too young to register at the time, but now she reflects on it, it was the one comforting thing of the whole morning. But, her bag had gone and the door to the room was locked from the other side. She remembers banging on it and calling for someone, but nobody answered. She’d describe the panic and desperately wanting her brother or her Dad in that moment, but had to keep reminding herself she didn’t have her phone to contact them. She ended up being shut in that room for twenty-four hours before one of the guys came back; the friend of the boyfriend. He told her that she wouldn’t be going home and the more noise and fuss she made, the longer she’d stay in the bedroom. 
Janey would talk about how her biggest regret is NOT making a fuss and screaming until a neighbour or somebody heard, but her survival instincts kicked in and she was scared she was going to be seriously hurt if she didn’t listen. So, she stayed quiet and followed what she wanted him to do; which was to dye her hair brown and change into clothes he’d bought for her - a basic black tank top and sweatpants. Again, at the time she was too confused to even begin to think about why but now she knows it was because she’d soon be declared a missing person and if they were taking her into public, she looked too familiar to any description circulating. 
She’d end this chapter by saying how she remembered sitting on the floor of the living room that night while he put the dye in her hair, trying not to cry while her story first broke on to some of the news networks. But she’d also talk about how she felt twistedly happy that her parents had decided she was missing and not just out being her usual, difficult self. 
CHAPTER THREE - THE FLAT. 
She’d start the chapter with a warning about mentions of sexual abuse again. This would be a really brief chapter, but it would basically be her explaining to everyone who she was taken in the first place; trafficking; and how it isn’t what everyone imagines. She wasn’t chained up in a basement somewhere. In fact, before the news of her disappearance really blew up, she was actually allowed out given that she was with one of the two guys. She’d go to the store, or just sit in the park and once even to the gym. 
She’d explain how ultimately though, she’d been taken as a product. Neither of the guys ever slept with her, but there were other men who did and they’d pay the two guys to do so. She’d never get or see any of it and she’d talk about how from the beginning there were strict rules. Her name would be ‘Liz’, short for Elizabeth which was her middle name, she wasn’t to have personal conversations with any clients and the answer had to always be yes to whatever they asked. Also, crying or appearing upset was a big no. 
She’d talk about how this went on for a month which was enough time for the search for her to gain momentum and more press coverage. And, she knew this, because the people keeping her almost INSISTED that she read newspaper articles or watched reports about herself. She’d also mention how they would mock her parents, sister, brother and friends who obviously would make appeals or speak about it in statements and find it funny. That would often set her off and she’d argue with them, which never ended well for her. 
The chapter would be rounded up with how by the end of August and moving into September, when she was supposed to be starting college, the police released sketches of the “suspects” and mentioned that they could be in the London area. For around three days, Janey had hope and felt like she was going to be found...but the guys began to panic. That’s when she wasn’t allowed to go outside anymore & one night, she overheard the guys speaking about how they were going to move her “and the others” further away from the Capital. That’s when she knew that this was going to be a lot harder than just doing what they said until they got bored. 
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RWBY Grimm Guardians Arc 3: Separated Union Ch 8
Side Red III: Stories
Welcome back to Separated Union! Here’s Side Red III and here, we learn more about Summer, Evergreen and Anna discuss about Oscar, and Summer and Anna do some catching up.
Also, THIS IS LONG YET AGAIN. Please take your time to read through it. If you need to, take a break from reading it and continue it later. Thank you.
As usual, please give constructive criticism and enjoy.
Disclaimer: Still own nothing.
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(We got another segment with “horror” themed elements and themes that some viewers might find disturbing. So, if you see hhhhhhhhhhhh, then that means you are entering or exiting the horror section.)
-hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-
(At the Evernight Castle….)
Ruby blinked. She looked around her, noticing she was in an unfamiliar building. The only thing she knew was that she seemed to be in a...throne room… “Where...am I?” She asked, before finding a mirror. The teenager noticed that she was wearing an entirely different outfit and sporting a new haircut, similar to that of what her mother had now. Short and a bit wild. She was also wearing broken handcuffs. The young leader also noticed scars on her arms and legs, possibly from an escape attempt.
“Was I...a p-prisoner…?” She asked, startled and shocked by her situation. “W-Why would I be…?”
Unfortunately for Ruby, the biggest...and most terrifying surprise was yet to come… There was a thunderous crack and rumble in the air and floor, before yelping in shock as a giant white Grimm-skeletal-armored ARM slammed in the windowed-side of the room, shattering the glass and breaking the architecture. The teenager’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening as she saw that the giant limb belonged to a black dressed woman with ghostly white skin and hair, as well as Grimm-like eyes.
The woman, based on observation alone, seemed to be close to 200 feet.... She also had similar armor on her entire body and was also wielding a similarly styled giant claymore. The woman also seemed to have titanic Grimm-like wings. “What the FUCK…” Ruby whispered, only to have her attention drawn towards the woman’s opponent. Now, Ruby expected multiple things to fight this giant behemoth. Dozens of Atlas airships. A giant robot. EVEN the Gods of Light and Darkness were a possibility.
So when the teenager saw a towering Summer Rose, in the appearance Ruby remembered from childhood and photos, she quite predictably panicked. She instinctively attempted to run, knowing that she wasn’t to be able to defeat something like the armored woman ALONE. However, when she reached the door to the room, the teenager noticed it had been blocked off by rubble from the impact of the giant woman’s arm. “Ah, shit…” Ruby whispered, quickly looking around for an exit.
The air and floor shook violently again as Ruby turned to see her mother’s sabers clash with the giant claymore. Summer let out a furious and uncanny wolf-like growl, before her determined expression turned into one of shock and fear as she turned and spotted the teenager. Using the pause to her advantage, the armored woman grabbed her opponent by the hair and kneed her in the face, before punching her with a left hook. Summer staggered, collapsing to her knees as blood dripped from her nose.
The elder Rose then pulled herself to her feet as she grabbed the building for support, only to get blindsided and knocked back down by the armored woman slamming the hilt of the claymore across Summer’s face. This time, Ruby rushed over to her mother as the white cloaked woman groaned in pain, wiping the blood from her face. “MOM!” The teenager shouted, only for the girl’s mother to turn and groan out, “Run… Go…! You’re...not safe here...!”
“But what about y-...” Ruby’s pleading was cut off as a shadow loomed over the two...and she swore she felt her heart stop beating and her breathing cease. Slowly, she turned and looked up at the armored woman, her blood growing cold as the Grimm-like eyes glared and pierced through the Roses. “Run…now…!” Summer whispered, struggling to stand back up. The teenager felt her body shiver, “B-But…” “Please, Ruby... Go…!” Her mother pleaded, before shoving her daughter away.
With one last smile at her daughter, Summer turned to face the armored woman with a glare. Ruby got up to try and run to her mother again, only to witness the claymore being jammed into Summer’s heart in an instant, before blood gushed out of the wound grotesquely. The young leader felt tears stream down her face, screaming as her mother’s eyes closed and her body went limp… Summer was gone... and if Ruby didn’t get out of the room, she would be too…
Ruby immediately got to her feet and scrambled to the other end of the room, trying to find a way out. “Shitshitshit...come on…!” She whispered, searching for any windows or door she could go through. The teenager found none, before attempting to dig up as much rubble as she could to free the door. The young leader froze as the armored woman’s shadow loomed over her, preparing to bring her claymore down on the teenager.
As the blade came down, Ruby squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the inevitable impact as the room around her shook violently….
-hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-
(1:33 AM at Mistral International Clinic)
Ruby’s eyes shot open as she gasped for air, sitting up with a jolt. She immediately regarded that decision as she hissed and laid back down, feeling the stings from her injuries course through her. “What...the hell was that…?” She whispered. The teenager looked to her side, noticing Summer at the right side of the hospital bed, mumbling in her sleep. From what Ruby could tell, they seemed to be questions… Ruby put her hand on her mother’s shoulder, only to pull it back when the woman groaned.
Rubbing her eyes, Summer looked up at her daughter, raising an eyebrow in minor surprise. “Nightmare?” She asked, receiving a nod from the teenager. Ruby sighed, “A bit…” After a couple moments of silence, Summer walked to the left of the bed, before hopping onto the mattress. “We got some time, so how about we chat for a bit.” She suggested, laying down next to the teenager. “Might help.” Smiling, Ruby laid back down, snuggling up next to the elder Rose, asking, “Who goes first…?”
Summer shrugged, “That’s up to you, really. Though you seem to have a bit on your mind…” A few moments of silence came once more, before Ruby sighed, “I was...in a castle. I looked...a bit older and...much more different.” “I think I was a prisoner there.” She explained, before feeling her mother wrapping her arms around her protectively. Continuing, the teenager said, “There was an...armored Grimm-like woman. She was fighting YOU.” She then felt Summer freeze in place, drawing concern, “Mom?”
“ Merde …” The woman whispered. Ruby looked up at her, “Do you...know her or something…?” Sighing, Summer replied, “I...think? The woman you describe has...shown up in my nightmares. She...calls herself Salem.” “That one will have to wait until tomorrow.” She explained. Ruby nodded, before saying, “That’s it… At least, I think so. The ending happened too quickly.” The elder Rose KNEW that was a lie. However, she nodded anyway, before asking, “Are you going to be okay?”
A moment of silence passed. Then two. Then four, until Ruby mumbled, “I don’t know.” Figuring that talking about herself would help, Summer said, “My full name...is Summer Artemis Rose… I think…” “Remembered something from your childhood?” The teenager asked. Her mother nodded, “I...think. I...was dreaming where I was about your age. I was...in a snowy forest by a...castle.” Ruby raised an eyebrow, “Did you live near any of the old cities in Vale?” “I don’t know…” Summer said, “Maybe...?”
“A blonde woman with silver eyes called out to me…” She explained. “She was very concerned about me. Another woman, with hair similar to ours and a more athletic physique, tried to calm her.” The young leader nodded, “What did she say?” The elder Rose paused, attempting to remember the dream, before saying, “She said I was...naturally adventurous. Wild. A true wolf.” Summer paused again, before admitting, “I don’t remember the meaning of that last part at all.”
“Maybe it has to do with your semblance...or name…?” Ruby guessed. Her mother shrugged, “The name I could see having a connection. My semblance....” She paused once more, before sighing, “I don’t even remember what THAT is either… Even though I know I awakened it at an early age.” The teenager raised an eyebrow, “How early?” Summer tapped her chin, “Maybe...8 or 9 years old…? Give or take a couple months. That’s...about it, I think...”
“How did you...fall in love with Yang’s mom?” Ruby asked hesitantly, knowing that it was probably a sensitive topic. Summer hummed with a small smile, “When I first met Raven just before the opening speech at Beacon, she protected me from someone who tried to...score with me…” “Because of that, I developed a crush on her.” She explained. “Of course, those developed into legitimate feelings for her. Though she also had the same feelings.” The elder Rose smiled, “Even confessed and asked me out first too.”
Her daughter giggled, “Aw, that’s cute~.” “Isn’t it?” Summer chuckled. “She was a nervous wreck, but I managed to help her realize that I also had feelings for her.” She then sighed, “However, we...only reached a friends-with-benefits level…” She then explained, “I couldn’t bring myself to have a relationship with her that could’ve ended in breaking her heart…or losing her.” Ruby figured that her mother’s reasons for the decision were hidden in her days before Beacon.
“So, what about…?” She started, before Summer said, “I...don’t know how we ended up in a relationship with Tai…let alone maintain OUR relationship.” “We both loved him for the same reasons; that being his personality and morals.” She explained. The elder Rose’s hold on Ruby tightened a bit, saying, “I feel like I should stay with him, but I still love Raven with everything that I am… I feel like I should choose, but I...can’t.” Her voice sounded like she was ashamed of loving more than one person.
Of loving a blonde man with a heart that was bright as day who believed she was dead… And a current bandit leader with a dark, yet kind heart who both loved Summer enough to resurrect her...and was also forced to leave everything and everyone she loved. All in order to protect them. Summer loved them both...and yet, she felt like she needed to make a choice between them. ‘ Even though Raven still cares about me, does Tai?’ The elder Rose thought. ‘Hell, do EITHER of them still love me in THAT way?’
“Do you regret it?” Ruby asked, rubbing her mother’s arm. Her mother stayed silent for a few moments, before saying, “We all make decisions we regret for one reason or another.” “But loving Raven, loving Tai, and having you and Yang as my daughters...will NEVER be one of my regrets.” She explained. “I just…” Summer sighed, trying to collect her thoughts as she said, “I want you and Yang to be able to call Raven family...and possibly your Mom as well… I just want to put this family back together...”
“Well…” The young leader started. “I think you might be on the right track… Yang had...issues with her mother prior to you talking about her at Beacon.” The elder Rose nodded, “She seemed like it. She believed Raven abandoned her?” Ruby nodded, “Something like that. Not sure if Dad thinks so… But you helped Yang feel more positive about her mother.” “So, personally, I think you’re getting closer to that goal.” The teenager said.
Summer nodded, rubbing the ring Raven gave her on her finger as she said, “I’d like to hope so.” “Especially since I, and now you and Yang, know how far Raven would go to protect and save her loved ones.” She explained. Raven really was someone who’d go above and beyond to protect her family. Whether it’d be destroying or killing the threat, sacrificing her own happiness and life to protect her family’s, even going as far as to resurrect the dead. Summer knew that last one very personally.
Ruby nodded, now too tired to speak as she let out a yawn. The former STRQ leader chuckled, “That’s enough stories for now. Try to get some sleep, little gem.” The teenager didn’t need to be told twice as she fell asleep not long after Summer said that. Summer fought the urge to laugh, before kissing her daughter’s forehead. “ Beaux rêves , sweetie.” She whispered, before relaxing and closing her eyes as well. Though why did it feel like someone was eavesdropping on them?
Summer decided to worry about it tomorrow, since she didn’t sense any danger. So why did she feel a heavy weight in her chest?
She knew why. She wanted to be with Raven again...even though she loved Taiyang just as much. Summer wanted to hold Raven’s hand again. Hug her again. Kiss her again. Hell, she just wanted to see and talk to her again…
‘ Why do I feel like I have to choose? That I have to be with one person…? ’ Summer thought anxiously, before finally falling asleep with one last thought in her mind.
‘ It’s not fair… ’
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(8:45 AM)
The next morning, Anna found them both sleeping peacefully. They didn’t even budge when she walked in. Chuckling, she decided that Ruby’s check up could wait for now, before leaving the room and heading to the coffee room. There, she spotted Evergreen already pouring himself a cup. The former headmaster looked up with a smile, asking, “Would you like some?” The doctor nodded, “Please.” With that, the suited man poured another cup of coffee, before putting the coffee pot down and handing the cup to Anna.
“Thank you.” She said, sitting down. “May we talk, please?” “Sure.” The former headmaster said, sitting next to Anna. “If I may ask, is this about Oscar?” “You’re very observant, aren’t you?” The doctor asked. Evergreen nodded, “I have to be, as a headmaster and mentor…” The brunette attempted to cool her coffee with a chuckle, “I’m not sure if I’d go that far…” The former headmaster smirked, before sighing, “So, what is it about Oscar that we need to discuss?”
Anna sighed, “Well, he mentioned that you’re training him… Correct?” Evergreen sighed. He was afraid that this would be the topic of discussion. He wasn’t sure if he should tell the doctor about Ozma… “Only to protect himself…” The former headmaster said. It wasn’t a lie, as that WAS one of the reasons why he was training Oscar. Though it seemed the brunette knew that it wasn’t the full truth, as she said, “I’d believe you if I didn’t know Summer. She was also trained to protect herself…”
“Though your teachings with Oscar are not just to protect himself.” Anna said. “You’re not just training my son, are you?” Evergreen sighed. He was going to have to tell the doctor about Ozma in a way that wouldn’t make her hate the former headmaster. He tightened his grip on his cup, saying, “So… I fear that he might be…a target for manipulation, so to speak.” The doctor raised an eyebrow, “By whom?” “A woman from Remnant’s ancient history…” The white haired man said. “And maybe a man of the same origin.”
Evergreen sighed, “The former’s crazed and the latter is unable to make the right choice…regardless of his good intentions.” “You fear that one of them will get him killed. Regardless if it’s for the sake of a selfish desire…” The doctor realized. “Or a considerate belief. Right?” The former headmaster nodded, “Pretty much.” Anna nodded, “Then I suggest you continue.” Evergreen raised an eyebrow, “I...don’t think I follow. Are you…seriously asking me to continue training him?”
The doctor nodded, “Yes. Because he WILL have to protect himself one day. It’s better if he is trained sooner rather than later.” She then let out a heavy sigh. “He is also going to need someone to look up to.” She said. “And I don’t mean as a headmaster or huntsman…” The brunette looked at Evergreen in the eye, unfazed. “You promise me that you will be there for him in my stead. And protect him. Understand?”
The former headmaster realized that Anna was asking him to be something akin to a father-figure for Oscar. He nodded, “Yes, ma’am.” Anna looked at him for a few more moments, before sighing with a small smile, “Summer was right about you… You are different then how people portray you…” Evergreen smiled, “I’m flattered. Thank you.” He then sighed, “I wish more people did, honestly… Ironwood-.”
“Is a lying shit stain, as is Jacques… Some politicians and military officers of recent history are, sadly.” The doctor said, cutting the former headmaster off. “Don’t let a military officer or politician manipulate the way the average citizens see you as.” The white haired man looked at Anna, before nodding once more. “Understood, ma’am.” He said. The two then sat in a comfortable and supportive silence as they drank their cups of coffee. Both were a little shocked that they managed to connect in some form.
The two then turned to face a tired, but awake Summer, who just sat down next to the doctor. “Tired?” Evergreen asked, only to receive a grunt from the taller woman. He then looked at Anna, whispering, “I’ll give you two some privacy. You seem like you have a lot to discuss.” With that, he then left the room, the White Wolf looked at Anna, asking, “So, you have questions, right?” The doctor nodded with a smile, sipping her coffee again, “A few. I’m sure you’ll keep it short and to the point though.”
The former STRQ leader chuckled, “True. Let’s start with how I came back, right?” Anna nodded in agreement, giving Summer her full attention. Taking a breath, the taller woman explained, “So, I went on a mission that gave me false information. It was supposed to be a rescue mission, but it was an ambush made by Grimm Sapiens.” “Yes, they exist.” She said. “Raven unintentionally joined me. We killed the Grimm, only to get blindsided by another who was still alive.”
“She aimed for Raven, but I managed to take the blow and kill the Grimm.” Summer explained. “Died...and Raven used a ritual to bring me back as a Weapon Spirit.” Anna nodded, “And you...lost your memories?” The taller woman nodded, “Yeah. I was changed physically. Lost my memories. And was dormant for...11 years, if I recall correctly.” She then sighed, “I began regaining my memories during Ruby and Yang’s time at Beacon, but there are still a bit of gaps.”
“I barely remember anything before MY time at Beacon…” Summer said with a drained expression. The doctor put a hand on her friend’s shoulder, “You’ll get there. You’re already on a good path towards recovery.” The former STRQ leader looked at Anna, asking, “So. How about you?” The brunette took another sip of her coffee, “So, I assume Oscar has told you a few things.” The taller woman smiled tiredly, “Well, obviously you had him.” Anna chuckled, “Yes, I did.”
“I...assume he told you about his dad…” She said, her expression sad. Summer nodded, rubbing the doctor’s back, “I’m so sorry, Anna.” Anna sighed, “It’s...alright. I...think it was his time anyway…” The taller woman raised an eyebrow, queuing the brunette to say, “John had congenital heart disease… He went into surgery and...” The doctor sighed, “I wish I could’ve done...SOMETHING…” She felt Summer wrap her arms around the brunette. “I’m so sorry, Anna…” The taller woman whispered.
The doctor felt a couple tears run down her own face, before wiping them away. “Oscar was young at the time… He thinks his father was killed…” She whispered. “I don’t know how to tell him that John passed on from...something that CAN’T be killed…” Summer just held her old friend tighter as more tears ran down the doctor’s cheeks. Anna whispered as she buried her face into the taller woman’s shoulder, “Despite all that...it still hurts. Still empty. Still lonely. Cold. And fucking unfair…”
The two sat like that for a few minutes, before the doctor got a call. “I’m needed.” She said, gently breaking the hug. Summer placed her forehead on Anna’s, saying, “I’m here if you need to talk. Alright?” The brunette gave a tired smile, “I know. Thank you…” With that, she got up and headed out the door to help another patient. Summer then sat in the coffee room. Alone...and with a lot on her mind now. She felt a weight in her chest again, before getting up to find Qrow.
It didn’t even take her two minutes, as she found the former bandit at the nearby vending machine. “Qrow? May I borrow your scroll?” She asked. “Please?” The red caped man nodded, though puzzled as he handed it to his former leader, “What’s this about?” Summer bit her lip, before clenching her fists, “I need to make an important call.” No further words were said as she dialed a number and waited.
She had a feeling that Anna wasn’t able to say goodbye to John or cherish one more moment with him before he went into surgery. The taller woman heard regret in the doctor’s voice during her story. Summer was going to make sure that she would, at the very least, cherish whatever time she had now with her friends. Her loved ones. Her family. Within a few moments, a familiar voice rang in the taller woman’s ears.
“Qrow? Do you need something?” Taiyang asked on the other end. Summer sighed, “Tai… It’s me. I’m...not Crescent Rose either.” Both Qrow and the taller woman held their breath, before Summer heard Taiyang’s voice cracking, “Sum…?” The former STRQ leader felt her lips quiver into a smile as tears ran down her cheeks. She felt Qrow hug her as she said into the scroll, “Yeah. It’s me… I’m alive...again…” She sighed with a shuttered breath, before saying, “We...have a lot to talk about…”
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And there’s Side Red all finished! I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter and enjoyed the new lore on my AU Summer, as well as lore on Anna! And yeah, Summer FINALLY calls Tai and reveals her identity. Since I didn’t say it, the figure eavesdropping on Summer and Ruby is supposed to be Qrow.
I’ll explain why he did it next chapter.
And I’m all caught up here! Now I’ll be posting all chapters from here on on the same day. Next chapter will be a SPECIAL chapter, Side JNPR. And it WILL be focusing primarily on JNPR and Oscar. And an old friend will be returning.
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enigmari · 4 years
Note
Oh my GOD Please infodump abt hatoful.... ive repeatedly tried to get into it but have no idea how/how to connect any of the lore. Thanos !
I SAW THE TYPO TOO LATE IT WAS SUPPOSED TO END WITH “THANKS”,
SKDFSKJSLKDFJ no worries anon, it happens to the best of us. Anyways, how should I start this…
So, if you’re totally new here, Hatoful Boyfriend is a visual novel dating sim whose basic premise is “what if cliched boyfriend archetypes… but birds?” And it takes this premise completely wholeheartedly, while still maintaining a comedic tone. You pick classes and club activities each in-game day to increase your skill points, and depending on your levels (and a few dialogue options) you’ll either successfully romance your birdie of choice or get a Bad End. Most of the birds make their interests/level requirements obvious from the start, and you have a bunch of save slots to work with if you wanna go the scum route. Pretty simple and straightforward.
(Actually, that’s a lie, it gets much more complicated later. Don’t worry about that right now.)
Most of HBF is framed through the perspective of the protagonist (I’m gonna use her canon name for convenience) Hiyoko, and she is… not the brightest bulb in the box. Especially in the first game, when events in one character’s route will be foreshadowed in other routes, she will rarely call them out or make note of them. Naturally, this also means some reveals will be spoiled depending on which order you do the routes in. You also unlock documents in the Archive section after completing each route, which adds another level of puzzle piecing to the mix. 
(No, this is not the complicated part I was talking about earlier. Sorry.)
In this next bit, I’m going to briefly run through the routes of the first game from least to most complex in terms of lore, as well as what things are foreshadowed when. I’ll also toss in the archive documents when I feel they’re most relevant to the information you have. We ready?
Okosan’s routes: Mostly joke endings, unless there is some greater plot significance to pudding that I’ve missed for all these years.
Ryouta’s route: Mostly about character building, the only real hint you get is that his mother is sickly and it’s implied he inherited this from her.
Azami’s routes: You could get here with the same stats as Ryouta’s route, but then you fuck it up by taking this job opportunity away from him. How rude, Hiyoko.
Sakuya’s first route: He opens up to you about his abusive and bigoted dad, and with some encouragement you encourage him to run away and become a musician like he always wanted. Mr. Le Bel is very important to multiple other characters in this game.
Sakuya’s second route (needs perfect stats/dialogue choices): Same conversation about his dad, but he chooses to live with you instead. Your big hint is at the end, when Yuuya sends you a letter saying there’s “something he’s wanted to tell [Sakuya] for a long time. Something important.” 
Yuuya’s route: You don’t actually get to find out what the "important thing" is, whoops. You do find out that Yuuya’s a spy for the Dove Party, Shuu is one for the Hawk Party, and the school has been increasingly influenced by the Hawk Party as of late. 
BAD END: You may have gotten it earlier, but now you have context as to who’s killing you when you fail a route- it’s the Hawk Party. The reason why is still unclear.
[CW for gore, child death, medical abuse, suicide, and attempted genocide from here on! This game is a trip!]
Shuu’s first route: Absolutely not a romance route and if you ship Shuu/Hiyoko please block me and tab out immediately thank you very much. You learn that Shuu has been killing students for medical experimentation, confirming Yuuya’s suspicions about the quills in the student store and the food in the cafeteria.
Shuu’s second route (needs perfect stats/dialogue choices): Same ending where Hiyoko dies, but he’s attached enough to her that he takes her head in a jar when he goes on the run. You do learn that Shuu doesn’t care about the Hawk Party’s politics, just that they can enable his personal experiments.
Archive Note 11: Someone (Shuu) knew that Yuuya was a Dove Party agent from the start. He also notes that some of the students are “fascinating”, which you know from his route means they’re good experiment fodder. You learn that he has reason to believe his victims won’t oppose the experimentation, but not the details.
Archive Note 10: Shuu makes notes about human “adaptability measures.” Given that Hiyoko is the only human at the school, you can guess that this will involve her in some way.
Archive Note 06: Notes about the Spanish Flu, how deadly it was to humans, and the connection to an “Avian Influenza.”
Archive Note 04: Notes about a “Goodwill Ambassador” for humanity, who needs a strong natural immunity to Avian Influenza. Hiyoko’s stats show that she has a base level of 800 Vitality, so you can guess that she’s the ambassador. This is why she dies when you fail a route- the Hawk Party saw she didn’t build a good enough connection to the birds, so they take her as a lost cause.
Archive Note 07: Shuu makes notes about “carrier capacity” in the student body, inducing it in some way in a “normal” individual. You can guess this is the details of his medical experimentation, but not who the victim is. You can also guess that the disease to be carried is Avian Influenza.
Anghel’s route: It’s not actually that complicated, but I think you need to complete Shuu’s route before the “mad love of a fallen angel” option is available. (EDIT: you actually just need to complete one playthrough to unlock this option. Even the Azami solo ending will unlock it.)  This ending seemingly undermines all the things we learned about Shuu right before, but this is just Hiyoko’s perspective.
Archive Note 01: A certain student (Anghel) has hallucinogenic properties that can affect bystanders, putting them in a trance-like state. This explains why everything went totally off the rails in his route.
Kazuaki’s route: Again not a romance route (no matter what he says about “waiting”, ew) because the whole point is that Kazuaki is afraid to open himself up to love of any kind. You learn he had someone he cared deeply about in the past but lost, and now he’s been soured from the experience. You also learn that he smells like bleach.
Nageki’s route: You learn that he’s a ghost, that he killed himself in the school some years ago, and that he doesn’t have all his memories. He disappears before you learn anything more, but he’s happy so it’s okay and why am I crying agai-
Archive Note 02: Someone (Nageki) writes about how they are trapped, and can’t remember what happened to them.
Archive Note 05: Nageki remembers he made a promise to someone very important, but he can’t remember who or what it was.
Archive Note 03: Nageki once woke up in a place that wasn’t the library- somewhere with bright lights and a white ceiling. He’s not as trapped as he first thought.
Archive Note 14: Nageki notes that he can move between floors, going from the library to the chemistry lab below. You can guess that the place with the bright lights is somewhere below these two rooms. This also reveals that Nageki knew the layout of the school when he was alive.
Archive Note 12: Nageki notes that after meeting Hiyoko, he feels fulfilled “just as he did back then.” He still can’t remember everything, though.
Archive Note 08: Notes about an underground facility, a fire, and a Subject 00 whose remains are in storage. You can guess that the facility is the place with the bright lights, and Nageki is Subject 00. You can also guess that Nageki set the fire, since he said that he killed himself.
Archive Note 09: Notes about Subject 00′s relative, whose remains are also in storage. You can guess that this is the “important person” that Nageki made a promise to a long time ago.
At this point, the only documents left are Note 13, which is about a terrorist incident at the Heartful House orphanage in which only two birds survived, and Note 15, which is about another terrorist incident some years ago in which the Ave’s High City building was bombed. Nothing in the main routes hints at these notes, so it’s a good time to move to…
Bad Boys Love route: This route is literally the length of the rest of the routes combined, so we’re doin’ more sections, baby!
Kazuaki’s lost loved one and Nageki’s important person turn out to be each other. They were the survivors of the Heartful House incident, and Kazuaki (real name Hitori) took care of his little brother by himself. Nageki was sickly, so he volunteered himself for a medical experiment at the school that could potentially cure him to take the burden off of Hitori. 
Unbeknownst to them, the Hawk Party was already in control of the school and their real motive was to investigate the disease Nageki was carrying- Avian Influenza. Shuu was specifically the lead for this project, and he also witnessed the Heartful House incident when it happened. At the time, he went by the name Isa Souma and was a medical researcher. He worked with Ryuuji Kawara, Ryouta’s dad, until Ryuuji’s death from disease.
Ryouta and Hiyoko were also there, because her parents were former human ambassadors too. Unfortunately, they became some of the casualties, which left the two kids heartbroken. Shuu, seeing them and recognizing Ryouta, offered to grant them a wish. They both wished for a world where humans and birds would never fight anymore, which Shuu took to mean “kill all the remaining humans so they can’t fight the birds” because… he’s like that. 
Shuu decided that the easiest way to kill all the humans would be to spread the Avian Influenza, and this is why he sought out Nageki. Nageki was forced to kill humans as part of the experiments, and this traumatized him so much that he set the lab on fire to stop it, trapping himself inside. Hitori witnessed this too, and swore to get revenge despite Nageki asking him to destroy his remains and live a happy life. He bleached his feathers and swapped identities with another bird to fake his death, and applied to the school as a teacher under his new name. 
Nageki’s plan didn’t entirely work, and the Hawk Party was able to store some of his remains for future experiments with Avian Influenza. This brings us to the timeline of the main routes, where Shuu took advantage of Ryouta’s sickly constitution to make him a new carrier for Avian Influenza. Yuuya tried to interfere on behalf of the Dove Party, but Shuu blackmailed him with the knowledge that he killed his real half-brother because he hated Mr. Le Bel and wanted Sakuya to live instead. 
The new strain of Avian Influenza that Ryouta carried was enough to make Hiyoko sick and kill her. The death of the Human Ambassador kickstarts the beginning of this route, and Shuu planned for the humans who would retaliate to also be infected. It doesn’t go as he planned, of course, but that’s laid out pretty well in the rest of the route so I won’t re-summarize it here. 
Aaaand that’s about everything for the first Hatoful Boyfriend game! I’ll gladly do infodumps/lore summaries for Holiday Star or the other side materials if anyone wants, but this took almost three hours to write as is so I’m going to give myself a break.
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minedcrafts · 5 years
Text
/ban
Myself, @quartz-slab, and @endstone-brick are back with another fic! We actually started this one a while back, but then we all got distracted by other things and only managed to finish it now.
---
Xisuma was about ready to start tearing his hair out over this build. He just wanted to work on a design for a new shop, but apparently, that was too much to ask today. It had been two hours now, and nothing he did looked right. He’d switched the block palate three times already and was starting to lose count of how many times he’d built and torn down this same stretch of wall.
Whatever that number was, he was about to add one more to it. With a long, drawn-out groan of frustration he removed the blocks he’d just placed down and backed up to see if he could find out where he was going wrong.
He narrowed his eyes at the half-completed wall like he could glare it into not looking awful. There had to be something he wasn’t seeing. A section that was too wide, a detail that was off center, a color that was throwing everything else off. He knew it was there, but he couldn’t fix it until he found it, and it was proving stubbornly elusive.
“Maybe if I move those windows over a block?” he muttered to himself after staring at it for several seconds. “No, then they’d be too close to that pillar…”
Leaving and coming back with fresh eyes would probably be the smart thing to do, but he was determined to get this design finished today. This little shop was not going to get the best of him.
The soft swish of an elytra passing low overhead derailed his train of thought, and he automatically turned to see who was interrupting him, just in time to see them throw a potion at him. He quickly dodged out of the way, but didn’t manage to avoid the splash entirely.
For a moment he thought he had, because he didn’t feel any different. Then he looked down to check if it had hit him and realized that he was completely see-through.
Someone laughed behind him, and he whirled around to see Scar sitting on top of his unfinished build. He was wearing his vex mask, so X couldn’t see his face, but he could clearly hear the grin in Scar’s voice when he spoke. “Sorry, X, guess I didn’t see you there!”
X drew in a deep breath in an attempt to keep his annoyance from spilling out. It didn’t work. “You think it’s funny to make people disappear, do you?”
“Well-.”
“Why don’t you try it, then.” Without waiting for Scar’s response, X raised a hand and snapped his fingers, causing the other hermit to abruptly disappear from view.
After a moment, he sighed, shoulders slumping as some of his annoyance faded away. Banning Scar like that wasn’t a reasonable response to such a small prank, and he knew it. The potion had already worn off, and it wouldn’t have done any harm even if it had hit him full on. Maybe he did need to take a break if he was going to react like this to a simple joke.
Another snap, and Scar reappeared with a loud gasp. He tugged off his mask, dropping it onto his lap so he could press his hands against his face, and took several deep breaths before he spoke. “What was that?”
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have banned you like that. I guess I’m just a little testy today,” X apologized.
“No, that - that place. It was so weird, it felt like... I was floating in an empty void, and I couldn’t move at all. It was… really unnerving.”
“I didn’t realize it was that uncomfortable; no one’s ever actually told me what it’s like.” Not that he’d really banned anyone before. Well, other than Evil X, who he’d banned a week or two ago. Why hadn’t he said anything about it, anyway?
Oh. Oh right.
Oh no.
His eyes widened in realization. “I- I need to go,” he blurted out.
“What? Where are you-” Scar cut off when he saw that X had already rocketed off on his elytra. “Huh, wonder what that was all about.”
---
Right next to the unfinished movie studios, X stumbled as he landed in a hurry. Regaining his balance, he hastily raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.
Evil X appeared a few feet before him and immediately dropped to his knees. He placed one hand on the ground to support himself and clutched the other to his head. He was breathing heavily, and as X drew closer, he noticed that Evil X was also shaking. Seeing someone that was normally energetic and chaotic look so vulnerable was… very strange, and it sent a shiver down X’s back.
X stopped right in front of his counterpart. “Evil X?” No response. “Evil X?” he called again, “You in there?” He reached out and tentatively placed a hand on Evil X’s shoulder.
Immediately, Evil X shot up and pushed X away. “Stay back!” He backpedaled a few steps, but disorientation from standing up so quickly caused him to fall back down almost immediately.
Evil X was nearly hyperventilating now as he sat on the ground, his eyes darting around rapidly. Eventually, he focused his gaze on X. He tried to glare, but couldn’t hide the fear and panic in his eyes. “D- don’t come near me! You... you put me in that wretched place, and now you bring me back, for what? To taunt me?” He let out a hysterical laugh. “Who’s the ‘evil’ one now?”
Despite his harsh words, X could tell that Evil X was completely overwhelmed; He was shaking like a leaf, and his voice didn’t contain the sharpness it usually had. X felt a pang in his heart as his normal animosity towards his evil twin dissipated somewhat.
Carefully, X made his way towards Evil X again. He crouched down a short distance away, doing his best to appear as nonthreatening as possible. “Hey, I’m… uh, look - I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that being banned was… this bad.”
“Don’t lie to me! You know what that place is like, why else would you send me there?”
“I didn’t know,” X insisted. “I’d never banned anyone before, there was no one to tell me what it was like.”
“So I got to be your test subject, huh? Lucky me,” he spat.
“That’s not…” X trailed off, unsure what to say. Evil X wasn’t entirely wrong, seeing as he was the first person to be banned, but he hadn’t sent him there to find out what it was like. He’d been annoyed and tired and generally not in the mood to deal with Evil X’s nonsense, so he’d decided to skip the confrontation entirely and deal with him later - and then ended up completely forgetting about it.
Evil X speaking in his raspy voice again broke him away from his thoughts. “So, what are you waiting for?”
“Waiting for what?”
“To ban me again!” Evil X yelled, his gaze brimming with hostility. “Why won’t you just get it over with? I know you want to.”
“I don’t! What kind of person do you think I am? I’m not evil like -” like you, X started to say, then cut himself off. That wasn’t helpful right now. “Look - I’m not going to ban you again. If I’d known what it was like, I never would have left you there in the first place. No one deserves that.”
“Yeah, sure,” Evil X muttered, voice just barely audible, before continuing in a louder tone. “What are you here for, then? If you’re not going to ban me, just go away and stop bothering me.”
X hesitated. It didn’t feel right to leave his counterpart alone when he was so clearly upset, but at the same time, there didn’t seem to be anything else he could do. “Are you sure-?”
“Are you deaf? I said go away,” Evil X snapped, cutting him off.
X sighed. “...Alright.” He pushed himself to his feet and stepped back, legs stiff from crouching for so long. After staring at Evil X’s scowl for a moment, he finally turned around and started to walk away.
X turned around the corner of one the studio’s buildings, then stopped. He couldn’t just leave Evil X alone - that could go sour in multiple ways. He leaned up against the wall and mumbled to himself. Maybe he should get someone else to keep an eye on his counterpart. But, at the same time, he didn’t want to drag anyone else into this mess. This was his fault and he should be the one to deal with it, but Evil X wouldn’t talk to him now. You’ve really gotten yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place, huh X? he said to himself.
As X contemplated what to do, a soft sound suddenly broke through the silence of the studio. It sounded vaguely like...crying? No, that couldn’t be right. The only person around was…
X peeked around the corner and was greeted with the most contradictory sight he’d ever seen. Evil X had his arms curled around his legs, and he was sobbing quietly. Evil X, who had tried to destroy the server more than once! It didn’t seem real to X, but it hurt to watch anyway.
He took a half step forward, his automatic instinct to comfort his counterpart conflicting with the knowledge that Evil X didn’t want X anywhere near him right now. What if he made it worse? But he couldn’t just leave Evil X to cry alone. Against his better judgment, X approached Evil X again.
X stopped about a foot away from Evil X, his counterpart having not noticed him yet. His mind raced as he tried to decide what to do next. Tentatively, he placed a hand on Evil X’s shoulder.
In response, Evil X yelped and shot upward. He spun around, his eyes widening when he saw X. “What?” His voice cracked as he spoke. “Why are you still-”
Before he could continue, X suddenly wrapped him into a hug, causing Evil X to fall silent. X had intended to try to console him, but all he could get himself to say was “I’m sorry.”
Evil X was unable to respond for a moment. At first, he just stood there stiffly, before slowly raising his arms. For a moment, it seemed like he might push X away, but then he awkwardly returned the hug. Before he knew it he was crying again, his grip around X tightening.
Once Evil X was all cried out, X carefully let go of him and stepped back. “Better now?”
Evil X wiped his face with his sleeve, keeping his eyes lowered. “...Sorta.”
“Well, that’s a start.” X shifted slightly, placing a hand behind his head. “Since this mess is kinda my fault, I think I’m obligated to help you now.”
For a moment, Evil X looked like he was going to protest, but he instead responded with “What do you mean?”
“I can’t just leave you out here, and as far as I know you don’t have a house. So uh...  you can stay at my base for now, if you want.”
“What?” Evil X said in surprise. “You’d actually be okay with that?”
A smile formed on X’s face. “As long as you don’t freak out every time I approach you.” He outstretched a hand. “Deal?”
“...Deal.”
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jennifersylvesters · 5 years
Text
give a little - part one
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Pairing: Chris Evans / Sebastian Stan x fem!reader Word Count: 3.6k~ Warning: swearing A/N: this is my contribution to @suncityparker and @petalparker’s writing challenge. i chose the au / prompt fake dating. hope you enjoy! as always, feedback is always appreciated!
When you signed the lease for your apartment at Woodridge Oaks, it was only natural for you to be excited. After all, this was your first taste of independence. Finally you had a place to yourself, free of any family or roommates. There was no stress, no rushing in the morning worried that the bathroom would be occupied. You weren’t expecting much from a one bedroom apartment but just a nice relaxing home. After all, what could happen on the fifth floor of Woodridge Oaks?
Occasionally a loud party bustled throughout the complex, but it ended during reasonable hours and only happened on the weekends. They were tolerable, just like the tenants who resided in the building. You got along just fine with the neighbors, not particularly concerned about any of them.
To the right of your apartment was your neighbor, Chris. You met him while moving in, lugging heavy miscellaneous boxes up to your place. He graciously offered to help which you gladly accepted. You hadn’t seen him much after that day, only greeting one another occasionally in the halls.The two of you sometimes briefly chatted in the laundry room while waiting for your loads, but it was nothing but mere small talk.
And although the number of women who visited his place seemed excessive, you didn’t particularly mind. It amused you to see the girls creeping quietly out of his place, passing you with a mix of shame and embarrassment all while refusing to make eye contact. As long as they weren’t loud, you had no qualms.That was his business.
However your neighbor, Sebastian, did not feel the same. Unfortunately Sebastian’s bedroom was right next to Chris’s, where he could hear him and his partners going at it in the middle of the night. While you weren’t technically friends with Sebastian - “commute buddies” seeing as your offices were only a block away from one another - you empathetically listened to his complaints.
Chris’s flings meant nothing to you, only serving as a trivial fact about the blond man next door. It caught you by surprise when a woman began frequently visiting his apartment. At first you found it sweet how he finally decided to commit. There was only one girl for Sebastian to complain about now.
Yet things seemed off. This visitor would show up at odd times of the day, skulking around the hallways constantly looking over her shoulder. Multiple times you witnessed her trying to yank his door open but to no avail. She left notes taped to his door, a lipstick kiss on the sheet with multiple hearts drawn.
All of these actions seemed peculiar, something you weren’t quite sure what to make of. You figured the least you could do was let Chris know. So one Sunday afternoon you knocked on his door waiting for him to answer. You heard rustling from the other side, locks sliding before a hand grabbed and yanked you inside.
“Oh, thank God it’s you” he breathed a sigh of relief, quickly locking the door. “Lucy’s been practically stalking me.”
“Who?”
He explained how he met Lucy at his job. He hadn’t thought much about his flirtation with her, only that she seemed like a sweet kid who ended up wanting more than a casual fling and got aggressive about her ambition to date him. There was absolutely no shame in his voice or face as he went into certain details about their sexual history, something that ended up flustering you instead.
You suggested he tell the landlord, figuring that he could easily ban her from the building. Chris shook his head, heaving out a sigh. “No, I can handle it. Plus it might mess up my business.” You weren’t sure what he did, but you politely nodded your head. “I just gotta ride out the crazy.”
“Thanks for telling me” he said, giving you a polite smile as he opened the door for you. Both of you jumped seeing Lucy standing at the doorway.
“Who are you? Who is this?” Lucy glared.
And in what Chris deemed a moment of brilliance, he blurted “This is my girlfriend, Y/N!”
Your jaw dropped at the notion, unsure of what in God’s name he was talking about. You barely spoke to him, and now he was deciding the two of you were dating?
Feeling a slight pinch on your arm, you yelped lightly. It took one look from the blond man to understand that he needed you to save him. His face said it all - “just go with it”. Still, he didn’t need to be that rough.
“Yes...I am dating...Chris” you slowly announced, trying to process the words as you said them. The idea of dating Chris seemed unfathomable. Sure, he was ridiculously attractive, but he wasn’t one for being tied down. Plus you didn’t even know his last name. Definitely couldn’t date someone without knowing their full name.
“How long? Why? When’d you meet?” Lucy didn’t have the right to ask either of you questions, but that didn’t stop her.
“Actually, we’ve known each other for a while” he nodded, explaining the situation. “We’ve always had chemistry, but we just didn’t wanna give in to it. I think I just wanted a sign to feel like all the stars were aligned. But a couple weeks ago we ran into each other at our favorite cafe, and we were talking about our favorite musicians. She was talking so passionately about her favorite band and that’s when I realized I couldn’t fight my feelings any longer. I just told her how much I liked her, and I’m just really blessed my baby felt the same way” he lied so easily even you thought it might be real.
He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in close. This was definitely new territory with your neighbor, and you weren’t too sure how to feel about it. Were you supposed to do the same?
So your arm hovered behind his back unsure of where to put your hand. Would putting it up near his shoulder blades be more friendly than a normal girlfriend would intend? But you also couldn’t just put it near his butt. That region was off limits. With a fake smile plastered on his face, he gritted “Just pick a spot.”
You eventually settled on the small of his back before grinning nervously at Lucy. Instantly you regretted this gesture as she shot you a murderous look.
“I, uh...I like him so much” you fumbled out. Apparently that wasn’t good enough. You received another pinch. Wincing at the pain, you deciding to rephrase your statement. “I mean, I love him. I’m just really...shy about admitting that stuff to strangers. Especially people I’ve never met.” That seemed to appease Chris.
Lucy eyed you, watching you do you best to pretend you were in love with a man you barely talked to. With one final glare, she huffed off.
As the sound of her heels disappeared, Chris dropped his arm from around you. Breathing a sigh of relief, he placed his hand on your shoulder. “Whew! Thanks for that!”
Scrunching your face, you couldn’t help but feel a little weirded out by the whole scenario. You rubbed at the spot that he pinched. “Sure. That was a bit strange though.”
Right as you were about to walk back to your apartment, he took your arm gently. “Hey. I know I don’t have the right, but I have a huge favor to ask” he started nervously, his other hand rubbing the nape of his neck. That’s when he asked if you would be his fake girlfriend, at least until he was sure Lucy would leave him alone for good.
You pointed out how insane Lucy seemed, afraid that she might come after you. There was something in her eyes from the brief contact that worried you greatly. But Chris promised he would take care of her as long as you did this favor for him.
All signs told you not to do this. It was crazy. Lucy was crazy. Chris was crazy for thinking this was a good idea. But you were weak when he repeatedly pleaded for you to help him out. His eyes looked desperate and when he actually got on his knees, clutching his hands together, you knew you couldn’t say no.
“Fine” you gave in, wishing you weren’t that weak to handsome men. “Also, what’s your last name?”
A couple days later you strolled through the grocery store, making your way through the sections as you focused on the information on your phone. Turns out that dating Chris wasn’t just a simple announcement and an occasional hug and kiss; it was actual work.
True to Chris’s initial belief, Lucy had no intention of giving up without a fight. Her visits became even more constant, asking Chris’s location or why the two of you weren’t together at that very second. You would fib, making any excuses to get away from the horrid girl. She rattled of questions to you about your “boyfriend”, expecting you to know the most obscure details about the man.
While her incessant hounding bothered you, she was right to question this relationship seeing as you practically knew nothing about him. The only certain fact you knew was that he owned a lovely dog named Dodger. Everything else about Chris was up in the air.
Lucy wasn’t buying into the sham, and both of you could tell. So he began sending facts about himself, typical details one would know about Chris if you were actually dating. Nothing more enthralling than remembering someone’s dietary restrictions and food dislikes for a fake relationship.
While you sent some of your own facts, you never bothered making any of them too personal. Learning about him was more for his benefit rather than yours. He didn’t need to know your allergies or music preferences because his stalker wouldn’t care.
As you muttered how Chris was originally from Boston, you looked up from your phone to see a familiar face. Oh, no. It was your ex-boyfriend, Jake. Your face immediately paled at the sight of him.
He looked good in that button down you always loved, hair gelled back as he browsed through the produce section. Why, oh why, was today the day where you decided to look completely disheveled?
He hadn’t noticed you so you sucked in your breath as you attempted to turn around. Your plan was foiled as your cart screeched, the back tire grinding down and refusing to cooperate. Jake looked up towards your direction, recognizing you immediately. As he called out your name, you internally groaned biting down on your lip.
“Hey, Y/N! Long time no see!” he greeted you. He surveyed your messy hair and unflattering sweats. From the look on his face, you could tell he felt that he dodged a bullet with you. You wanted nothing more than to flip him off and curse him out for that expression alone.
Despite your current state, you were doing fine. You didn’t need a man, especially one like him. This, of course, was something he would never believe even if you told him.
You wanted Jake to understand that you never needed him, that you were capable of bigger and better things. He was simply the pit stop on the side of the road. Yet to him he was the final destination you never got the opportunity to enjoy.
You could feel the resentment boiling in your body, wishing you could do something - anything - to make him see otherwise. And that’s when you spotted Sebastian.
Well, he actually spotted you. “Oh hey” he approached you, giving you a polite nod.
Something inside you snapped at that moment. That pitying look from Jake made you want to lash out, prove him wrong for all those times he made you feel inferior. You never got to do it during your relationship or your break up. Apparently now was the perfect opportunity, even if that meant absolutely losing your mind.
“Baby, where have you been?” you cooed, taking Sebastian by the arm and pulling him close to you. You rubbed his bicep, leaning in closer. Sebastian quizzically eyed you, unsure of the current situation.
“Uh, like in general or-?” he started before you realized he might ruin your plan.
“Aw, I’m glad you got my favorite chips! You’re so sweet!” you exclaimed upon seeing him holding a bag of Doritos in his hand.
Jake pressed his lips together. Obviously he hadn’t been expecting someone like Sebastian to show up. He cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to him. “You’re not even going to introduce me, Y/N?” He forced a chuckle causing Sebastian to raise an eyebrow.
It was only natural for him to feel intimidated by Sebastian. With his tall stature and good looks, he seemed like a step up from Jake. You couldn’t help but relish that the tables were turned.
“This is my boyfriend” you beamed, leaning in closer to Sebastian. This announcement shocked him as his eyes widened and his body stiffened. Yet somehow Jake didn’t seem to notice. Thank God.
You squeezed his arm, hoping he would understand to go along with the charade. Fortunately he got the signal and kept quiet.
“Oh, really? I didn’t realize you got a new boyfriend” Jake replied, irritation laced in his voice.
“Yup. He’s my boyfriend.” You tilted your head into Seb’s chest, acting as if it were only natural. “This is Chris.” Shit.
You hadn’t meant to say the wrong name. You heard the words slip out so carelessly and you almost winced. Almost. No, you couldn’t make a move. You needed to pretend you hadn’t messed up, that you hadn’t called Sebastian by his least favorite neighbor’s name.
Seb sucked in his breath, eyes widening at your name choice. He stared at you; it was almost as if he wasn’t sure you actually knew his name. You squeezed his arm once more, almost as if a lifeline to just keep quiet.
“Babe, this is Jake.” You extended out your arm, gesturing to him. “This is my, erm, ex-boyfriend.” Suddenly things began to make sense for him.
You knew Sebastian decently enough to know that he wasn’t one for lying. In fact, he always stuck to his guns about the rights and wrongs. It sometimes felt like he stood on his own pedestal, refusing to come down among the regular beings who made mistakes.
He had a choice to make: expose you or play along. The obvious choice would be to tell the truth, point out how the two of you were just neighbors and that his name wasn’t Chris.
But the pleading look in your eyes stopped him from doing so. He looked at your arms, still intertwined tightly to his arm. And with his free hand, he gently gave your arm a couple loving taps.
“Yes...I am...Chris” he eventually spoke, wishing you chose his actual name for this ruse.
Your arms relaxed slightly and you released a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. You knew you owed him big time, but that was to be discussed after.
As soon as it was clear he was willing to play along, things got increasingly easier. You told Jake about how you and Sebastian met, how you hadn’t meant to fall in love with one of your neighbors, but the two of you couldn’t fight the magnetic connection. Sebastian just stiffly nodded along, unsure of what to contribute to the conversation. You did most of the work; all he needed to do was stand there and look pretty.
So you continued faking pleasantries, taking Sebastian’s hands in yours. Your palms sweated, nervous about the piling lies as well as how Sebastian would later react. Clearly he could sense your discomfort but that this charade was something to prove. Letting go of your hand and pulling away for a brief moment, he adjusted so that you were in front of him and wrapped his arm around you.
Your heart beat quickly as you felt Sebastian rest his head on your shoulder. From Jake’s frown, you knew you owed him big time.
What you didn’t expect was Jake to ask the two of you to get coffee with him. Who in their right mind would ask their ex-girlfriend and her current beau out for a drink? Apparently Jake would. “I just think that it would be nice to catch up with you. And seeing as how Chris can’t keep his hands off you, I don’t mind if he wants to tag along.”
You wanted nothing more than to roll your eyes at the invite. There was no way you planned on spending more time with your ex, especially with this “Chris”. Except you and your neighbor were not on the same wavelength.
“That’d be great!” Sebastian agreed as the two men exchanged phone numbers. You could feel yourself mentally screaming, wishing that you could reverse time before Sebastian accepted that offer. If only.
As your ex-boyfriend walked off, you pulled out of Sebastian’s grasp and swiveled around to face him. “What are you doing?” you hissed, now looking at a confused Sebastian.
“I thought I was helping you with your ex-boyfriend.”
“I mean, yeah. Thank you for that. But you didn’t have to accept the offer!”
“I thought you wanted me to?”
“I would rather shoot myself in the foot than hang out with Jake again” you snarled, the memories of your ex-boyfriend flooding up. One look at Sebastian, and you realized your hostile tone was directed at the wrong person.  “Sorry, it’s not you” you apologized. “It’s just that Jake and I didn’t end on a good note.” He nodded, not needing an explanation.
“I guess...We just have to get through Saturday?” He agreed, and the two of you began heading towards the front of the grocery store to pay.
As the two of you made your way back to the apartment, you discussed plans of how to handle things. You decided you would visit his place to help pick out a good coordinating outfit and go over anything important that might arise in conversation.
Hauling the bags of groceries to your shared floor, the two of you stumbled onto the scene of Lucy and Chris arguing at his entryway.
“There’s something wrong with her! I know it!” she insisted, arms crossed across her chest.
Out of the corner of his eye, Chris spotted you. While this day had been nothing but poor timing, Chris eagerly welcomed the universe’s mistake. “You need to stop this right now, Lucy. You’re gonna upset my girlfriend!”
Sebastian turned around, expecting to see another woman in the hall. A perplexed expression crossed his face as he saw no one else, now confused by Chris’s words.
You, on the other hand, focused on the death glare being sent your way. What were you supposed to do? The woman looked like she’d rip you to shreds if you even attempted fighting her.
You opened your mouth, trying to form the right words. “I am...So upset…” Judging by Chris’s expression, this wasn’t going to get his stalker off his doorstep.
“No! I’m so angry!” you changed your phrasing, furrowing your brows. “How dare you?!” you yelled, gently placing your groceries on the ground before putting your hands on your hips. No way you were going to damage your eggs for this act. Please. But were you selling it enough? Chris rolled his eyes and gave a small nod, and you continued your awful performance.
“You need to get away from my man, please.” Another ‘ramp up the anger’ look from Chris. “No, you know what? No ‘please’. Get away from my man before I call the cops on you!” you snapped, pulling out your cell phone. You randomly tapped buttons on your phone before holding it up to your ear, pretending to wait for the police to pick up. Your bluff worried Lucy as she clenched her fists before letting out a loud scoff.
“I know something’s up” she hissed as she pushed past you and Sebastian. Once the apartment building door slammed shut, Chris grinned.
“That was pretty bad, but I liked that phone bit” he complimented as he gave you a couple of claps. You jokingly curtsied, pretending to enjoy the praise.  
“Wait, what’s going on?” Sebastian asked, still clueless to the what just occurred.  
“Oh, Chris has a stalker” you responded casually giving a shrug. Sebastian’s eyes widened before he scratched the back of his head in bewilderment.
“Y/N is pretending to be my girlfriend until Lucy gets the hint and leaves me alone.” Thankful for your help, Chris plucked up one of the bags from the ground to lighten your load.
Sebastian remained quiet, finding himself squatting to take in all the information. “Wait...Can you...What’s going on?” he questioned again. The two of you explained the predicament, giving him time to fully absorb the situation. He nodded at certain points, making it clear he was slowly beginning to digest all this information.
He sucked in a breath before exhaling slowly, eying you nervously before pressing his lips together. “Well, that’s gonna complicate things because I’m Y/N’s boyfriend.” Chris nearly dropped the groceries, startled by his announcement.
“Fake boyfriend” he continued, and you remembered that this was true. “Because her ex thinks that I’m her boyfriend. He also thinks that my name is Chris.”
Things on the fifth floor of Woodridge Oaks were about to get interesting.
tags list: @sleepybesson, @tomhaz, @supernatural-girl97
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allykat4416 · 5 years
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Meme Trip 2k19, Pt. 2
Date: May 18th
Park(s): Kentucky Kingdom in Louisville, KY//Holiday World in Santa Claus, IN
I’ve always loved an underdog story. In a world like today, where most parks of note are owned by Six Flags or Cedar Fair, it’s harder for the “Little Guys” to get their foot in the door. I think that’s actually pretty sad, as some of my favorite parks are these smaller, family-owned establishments like Knoebels’ and Waldameer. I also really like the neglected parks in the big chains like Michigan’s Adventure. I think I’m just weird and salty.
But what about a park with humble roots, snatched up by a large corporation and falling victim to an antagonistic fair board and an economic downturn, only to rise from the ashes better than ever? I don’t know about you guys, but that’s the exact kind of place I stan.
I’ve always high-key wanted to visit Kentucky Kingdom since its 2014 reopening. Ed Hart has fought so hard and poured so much of his heart into reviving this park that it makes me want to cheer for them just because I respect the man so much. Plus, it didn’t hurt that I’ve heard KK has more ejector in two rides than Ohio has in two parks. {Having been, I can confirm that’s true.}
I watched them build Lightning Run. I watched them build Storm Chaser. I watched them troll heavily with everyone before announcing Kentucky Flyer. I watched them do all these things, and I yearned and yearned to go. And now, I’ve finally been.
Going into this trip, I’d always been pulling for Lightning Run. It’s the only ride of its kind in the world, and people tend to overlook that because there’s an RMC in the park. I don’t hate RMC as much as I used to after this trip, but I still incredibly hate how the community treats RMC. I anticipated that I would prefer LR over SC, and that did end up being true. I don’t know if I’m soft on this ride because it’s an underdog in a park that’s already full of underdog energy, if it’s because I love the things we’ve done with her character in our story, or what.
Like me, LRun isn’t a morning person. It wasn’t quite what I had expected it to be on our first ride, and I was honestly a bit sad. Not Steve levels of “wow lmao that sucked” because it was still indeed a great ride, but it wasn’t quite as intense as I thought it was going to be. It got more like what I thought it would be after we’d gone through the park, and we ended up riding it three more times after that initial excursion. I don’t like the term “flojector” but if there’s any two rides that I think have it, it’s LRun and Fury. That makes me feel things I’m not sure I want to feel.
It’s short, sweet, and to the point, never wasting your time and a blast from start to finish. The twists and three hills at the end are a choice finale. S-curves, thick ass, give ‘em whiplash indeed. I believe LRun has my favorite first drop of all time too. (If anything is close, it’s actually on an RMC weirdly enough. But I’ll get to that later.) Good on you, Chance. Build a Hyper GT-X in my backyard, please. I love it.
Kentucky Flyer was a fantastic addition to the park’s lineup. It’s got me even more unironically excited for Oscar’s Wacky Taxi. Something about this ride reminded me greatly of Mystic Timbers, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was exactly. I think the best word to describe this ride is “cute”, but not in a patronizing manner. Fetus Mystic or not, it’s a really fun ride and I can’t wait to see a bunch of new coaster geeks in the area come to the hobby from this being their first coaster. Four for you, Gravity Group. You go, Gravity Group. 
T3 wasn’t as awful as I was anticipating it to be. The lap bars are what sucks, if anything, and the ride does shuffle very noticeably in a few spots. However, the layout isn’t bad and I see why it was cloned so much; if it isn’t broke, don’t fix it. I like the cherry red paintjob as well. Just…please do something about the lap bars. I don’t even mind STR or SkyRush’s! But this, this is terrible. 
Thunder Run surprised me. I’d gone in expecting something like Hurler at Carowinds, since it’s just a clone of that ride. I left kind of pissed off that Carowinds doesn’t maintain theirs like that. I do believe there might have been some modifications to the layout because of structural damage when the park was essentially left to rot after 2010. If that’s the case, I understand. But damn, this thing was actually surprisingly good! I’d need a couple of more rides to really say what I think and we had bigger, angrier fish to fry, but that’s all the more reason for a revisit. 
Obligatory comment that Storm Chaser kicks the shit out of Steel Vengeance, not that it’s that hard to do. I’d heard it was running a bit sluggish that day, and I can get that. It wasn’t as violent as I’d anticipated it to be, but it was still typical RMC ejector like what I’d had on WiCy or TwiTim. It’s not Lightning Rod, but if you compare any RMC to LRod, you’re going to be disappointed. At least Stormy, you know, fucking had ejector. The trick-track double-up was really neat, but I think the first drop is every bit as good. It’s like Timbers’ drop only better. It’s weird in that it’s better in the front. That seems to be a recurring thing here. Like sister, like sister I guess. We ended up riding this three times since we liked it so much. 
Roller Skater was also a really cute family credit, and it’s in a beautiful setting. There isn’t a lot else to say about it. It’s just kind of there for the fetus thrill seekers who aren’t quite ready to take flight on KyFly yet.
The park still has some sense of Six Flags, like a stain you can’t really ever scrub out. I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing, though. It gives the park more character, and it pays tribute to what its past life used to hold. It’s an interesting park that I’m eager to see grow and hopefully prosper in the years to come. Ed Hart cares so deeply for the place, and it shows.  
There were a couple of other enthusiasts at the park that day, and both Roller Skater and Storm Chaser broke down for them after we had left. I don’t know if coasters have souls, but if they do, I tip my hat to those two for being real pals.
Keeping with the theme of family-owned fun, we split the day between Kentucky and Indiana. In another sense, Holiday World was kind of an underdog in this trip with regards to me. I had visited once in October and utterly hated it. I’d overestimated how much progress I’d made in my path to recovery from a prior relationship, and HW had associations with that ex all over the place [being in Indiana, passing road signs from their hometown, them visiting the park multiple times, yadda-yadda.] I’d also had a tough time because of a member of our party who had invited himself to our excursion. I almost fucking killed him on Voyage’s lift hill. But fuck him, he’s a Steve fanboy.
None of that was the park’s fault. Rude people, jealousy, and awful exes aren’t the Koch family’s doing. But it made Holiday World leave a very, very unpleasant taste in my mouth. There were multiple times during the off-season that I didn’t want to particularly come back to this park. I didn’t think I was ready. While yeah, I did have to avoid looking at some of the interstate signs, I know it’s okay to know your limits. We also kept this park very quiet so no one would be a massive cockgoblin and invite themselves at the last minute.
Raven is, as always has been, a pretty solid ride. Not a lot of good coasters opened in my birth year of 1995, but I think Raven is my favorite of that class. I tried to pay more attention to the ride this visit after hearing about the death on it in 2003 and see where that woman lost her life. I definitely understand why it happened where it did, and it makes me feel awful to say that that’s always been my favorite drop on the ride. I feel like I keep saying it, but Raven is in such a beautiful setting by Lake Rudolph and that adds to an already-fun experience to me.
Legend was slated to be down for the day. It was posted on the sign at the front, we’d heard from multiple enthusiasts that he was a sleepy boy, and even the worker at Taco Bell in Corydon told us it was down when she’d visited the other day. However, during our marathon of another ride, we heard talk of them opening Legend for the last couple of hours. Sure enough, we saw a testing train a few minutes later.
We only got one ride and it hadn’t warmed up, so it wasn’t quite as good as I remembered, but I don’t hold that against him. It still feels like a hybrid between Beast and Mystic. We stan Helixes of Death. Legend was really the only ride I remembered a lot from in October, so maybe he just didn’t have as much to say to me as the others did. I’d blocked a lot more from HW out than I think I anticipated myself to.
Thunderbird is easily the best wing in NA (and I’ve done all 4 now, so I can say that. Checkmate, IG twats.) The launch is always a bunch of fun, and I still adore that slow roll at the end. It’s a lot like Banshee’s with ample hangtime. Can KD get one of these to replace what we lost with Volcano? Pretty please? And the little touches like the flickering lights through the queue as well as the launch barn really make the ride a bit more special. We love a dude.
We also rode Crow’s Nest, because God is dead and Starflyers killed him. Since it was so hot out, the breeze was pretty nice. It was also a fun way to relax, unlike the heart attack I’d had earlier on KK’s Ferris Wheel.
Voyage was better this time. I can understand the hype for this ride a bit more now, even though Casie is the only Voyage fan I actually tolerate. Tell me how it stops in the middle of the ride but still doesn’t fuck over its pacing. Tell me how I believe it’s got 24 seconds of airtime. I remember thinking that the night ride was really good, but I had blocked out nearly everything about this ride. I think my favorite part is the twisted section out in the woods with the 90-degree banking. I also was a fan of the tunnels due to the heat! I’m really glad we slipped to the overflow queue to watch it go through one of the final tunnels. Super neat, and I can definitely agree that it deserved to win those Tickets. Even if the Tickets are a scam.
But my favorite part of Voyage wasn’t even a part of the ride itself. It was standing in the queue, realizing I was in Indiana and it was very, very close to the day it all ended. And then I realized… I was perfectly okay. I was with someone I love doing something I love, and everything was just fine. She didn’t have that power over me anymore. She’s gone in every sense. I’m not too proud to say I started to cry in the station. I don’t know why it happened at Voyage, but that ride had been a sore spot and a point of contention for the past 7 months. If there was anywhere to get to that final stage of healing, I’m glad it was at that park and that ride.
I still don’t like it more than some of the other parks I’ve visited [Knoebels, Dollywood, BGW, etc.] but I do appreciate Holiday World a lot more now. Who could hate a place that offers as much free stuff as they do? And how on earth could I hate a place where I was able to finally let go of this pain? I’m glad we had such a positive experience, and letting go of the leftover hurt from that person and period of my life was a recurring theme the next couple of days. If nothing else, this trip helped me put some of those demons to bed. And maybe that’s my own underdog story. 
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