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chr0macide · 1 year ago

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Break In 2: The Novelette (Fanfic)

PART 1

got damn I finally finished this. Writers block was wilding on my ass so I hope this didn't turn out like shit lol. I drew a lil bit of art for this fanfic (I say "drew" but a lot of it is just textures from google edited together into a picture lmao). Just 3 pics but yeah I got bored and wanted to draw. Might make a separate post for them sometime so people who don't wanna read or scroll through this can see them.

I recommend reading part 1, there are some references and callbacks that you might not get if you haven't read it already.

Again if you see any grammar/spelling errors please tell me. don't let me just leave that shit in because that's hella embarrassing 🙃

oh also for those who don’t know, the premise of this fanfic is basically just me turning the game into a short story

TW implied sexual violence (not involving any main characters, relatively short section, but its there)

This one is about 16,000 words, alright lets do this

Chapter I – Unsafe Haven

A fork of lightning illuminated the woods as Prince drove down the trail at a snail’s pace. The deluge was so heavy that it was almost impossible to see through the windshield, even with the wipers on. He brought the car to a standstill and let the engine idle.

“We’re gonna have to wait the storm out,” Prince told the kids. “Can’t keep driving like this.”

Stephanie kicked the back of Prince’s seat. “Worst camping trip ever,” she grumbled with her tiny voice.

“Relax. We’ll get there,” the elder brother said, but the truth was that he may or may not have taken a wrong turn through the thick fog.

It had been almost a year since the four kids had butted heads with their not-so-friendly neighborhood mafia. Well, three kids and one adult; Prince had turned 18 a few months ago. They’d been holed up in their house for too long, paranoid that Larry and his mobsters might show up for a little payback. It didn’t help that there had been a string of missing person reports in the area. To their dismay, their own uncle had disappeared, not to mention that the mob boss himself had vanished soon after they’d deactivated him. He hadn’t been sighted since, though, so Prince and Monica thought an outing would help take their minds off of everything.

They had everything they needed. The weather report had been favorable, yet rain was battering their windows. Prince folded his arms as he heard another clash of thunder. His boredom was replaced with panic as the subsequent flash of lightning struck the tree closest to them.

“Everyone out! Now!” he yelled as the trunk splintered and started to topple towards them. The kids tumbled out of the car and ran off as the tree smashed into the hood. The car alarm screamed.

“Could this trip get any worse?” Monica huffed as she walked around their totaled coupé. She popped the trunk and rummaged around inside.

Prince reached out and pulled her away. “Monica, wait, the engine-”

He was cut off as the crushed engine spat out a plume of smoke and exploded.

The kids stared at their flaming car.

“Shit,” said Hadrian.

Prince sighed. “Yeah.”

They looked around. They thought they’d reach the campsite early in the evening, but the storm had stalled them for so long that night had already come. Prince could hardly see the path ahead of them. “You didn’t happen to pull a flashlight out of there before it blew up, right?” he asked Monica.

Monica looked at the first aid kit she’d rescued. “No.”

“Damn. Well… we shouldn’t just stand around, I guess. Come on,” Prince said to the others. They climbed over the fallen tree and set off down the trail on foot.

The muddy path squelched under their shoes and thorns snagged their clothes as they trudged forward. Prince knew they should hurry, but shrubs and tree roots obscured by the shadows threatened to trip them up and send them face first into the dirt if they walked too fast.

Prince pulled out his cellphone as they moved, grumbling in frustration as the rain impaired the touchscreen. He tried to dial emergency services. No signal. He almost bumped into a traffic barricade in front of him while he was shoving the phone back into his damp pocket. “The hell? What is this doing here?”

He felt Monica tug on his sleeve.

“Do you see that?” Monica asked, pointing into the trees. It took Prince a few seconds to figure out what she was talking about, but he spied a yellow light blinking in the distance.

“What is it?” he wondered.

“I don’t know… but look.” Monica gestured downwards. There was a gravel path leading away from the barricaded trail. It looked like they’d be taking a detour.

“Let’s see if there’s a building there,” Monica suggested. Prince was apprehensive about veering off the main path, but he had no clue how far the campground was, if they were even going in the right direction. Maybe this was a better option. He and the other kids followed her.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the origin of the light. Steel walls stretched into the trees. The faint beams of moonlight that made it through the leaves glinted on the razor wire resting atop the fortifications.

A control panel was affixed to the wall next to the heavy-duty vertical lift door. There was the light source: a yellow diode, flashing on and off in the dark.

Prince peered through the doorway. It was already open. “What is this? A military base?”

Monica knitted her brow. “Maybe, but why would they leave the door like this?”

“I don’t see anyone.” The place gave him an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach, but it was freezing, and his clothes were soaked all the way through. He stepped inside.

The dwelling had evidently been abandoned for a long time. One ceiling light persevered, shining weakly in the darkness. The floor was littered with trash and a sticky layer of dust coated the tiles. Corroded storage lockers lined one of the walls. The other was plastered with crappy graffiti.

Prince didn’t see anyone else. He beckoned the others inside. However, right as the last kid stepped through, there was another flash of lightning. The panel next to the door sparked and short circuited. Everyone flinched as the door slammed down with a loud bang.

“What the hell!” Prince exclaimed as he turned around. He gave the door a kick. It didn’t budge. The unlocking mechanism had failed. He tried tinkering with the control panel, but all he got was an electric shock. “Ow.”

Prince knew he wasn’t about to break through solid metal. The kids glanced around the room nervously. “Look for another way out,” Prince told everyone.

There was only one other door on the opposite wall. Monica made her way over and gently pushed it open, but it was just a stairwell leading even deeper down into the building. She shook her head at Prince. “Nothing here.”

Hadrian started to open the old lockers, searching for something that might be useful. He grimaced as he came upon one that wasn’t empty.

“Guys. Look,” Hadrian called out. The others crowded around. It was an all too familiar comedy mask that they’d hoped they would never have to see again. “I don’t think we’re in a military base.”

Prince’s stomach churned at the thought of running into Larry a second time. If he was uneasy before, he was on high alert now. In fact, he was so anxious that he nearly leapt out of his skin when something prodded the back of his leg.

The dog whined and sprang away as well before it ran away and cowered beneath a rotting wooden table. Its fur was patchy and matted. Muddy water was still dripping from it, but it looked like it might have been white underneath all that grime. It must have taken refuge here from the torrential downpour too before they arrived.

“A doggie!” Stephanie squealed in delight. She ran to pet it, but it growled and barked at her when she got close. “Mean doggie,” she pouted.

Prince paid no more attention to the dog. If there was a chance that there were gangsters prowling, he and the kids had to arm themselves. He didn’t see anything of use except a broken rack with a few rusty crowbars on it. He picked one up.

“Guess these will have to do.”

He tossed a couple to Monica and Hadrian.

“Hold up, you want us to go further inside?” Hadrian questioned as he caught the weapon.

“You got a better idea?”

Hadrian looked at the metal door, locked tight. “No,” he mumbled.

The group stood at the stairs. It was pitch black. A sense of déjà vu crept over Prince; it reminded him of the creepy basement back in his house. He dug through his pocket for his lighter and flicked it on, casting enough light down the steps for them to descend. The dog padded after them, though it still recoiled as Stephanie tried to touch it again.

They reached the base of the stairwell. Iron bars lined the walls on either side of them. It was some sort of jail. Prince thought the cells were all empty until someone stood up in the one right next to him.

Everyone yelped in alarm at the figure. Prince held his crowbar up defensively, even though the man was caged, but he looked familiar. He held his lighter up to illuminate his face.

“Uncle Pete?” Prince said, bewildered.

Pete waved. He grabbed the whiteboard attached to his belt. Hi Prince! Open the cell? he wrote.

“But I don’t have the key… oh, wait,” Prince said as he remembered that he was holding a crowbar. He jammed it in between the lock and the doorframe and broke the gate open. “But how did you get here?”

Mafia wanted some of my properties. Locked me up here alone when I wouldn’t transfer ownership, Pete scrawled as he stepped out of the cell.

“Oh, man. We were really worried,” Prince said as everyone wrapped Pete up in a group hug. “Wait a second. Does that mean there are mobsters nearby?”

No. Upper levels of the base are abandoned. Everyone is in lower levels.

Prince’s brow furrowed. Pete looked at him quizzically.

“The entrance malfunctioned. We can’t get out the way we came in,” Prince explained. Pete looked pensive now.

Only other way out is elevator on lowest level. Leads to south exit. Don’t know exactly where it is, but we would have to keep going down. Pete pointed at the other end of the jailhouse. More stairs. They were going to be seeing a lot of those.

The last thing Prince wanted to do was to delve into a criminal hideout, but they didn’t have any other choice. “How deep before we start running into mobsters?” he asked Pete as they walked to the staircase and descended further.

Pretty deep. Not sure about the exact level. I don’t th

Pete stopped writing as they reached the next area and looked around warily. It was some kind of common area, just as derelict as the previous rooms, but something felt off. Prince squinted through the dim lighting. The coffee table was caked with dust, but one handprint-shaped patch was clean.

Someone was in there with them.

Chapter II – Hackerman

Monica guarded herself with her first aid kit as a masked mafioso stood up from behind the couch and swung his crowbar at her. The plastic case cracked, but she retaliated with a jab to his gut with her own weapon. He clutched his abdomen in pain as Monica brought her weapon down on his head, knocking him out.

The guy wasn’t alone. Four of his buddies emerged from hiding while Monica was fending off the first, and they rushed the kids all at once. Pete hastily grabbed the crowbar that the downed mobster had dropped. He attacked one who was coming up on Prince’s side. He and Hadrian were kept busy by a couple of other mafiosos from the front. There was a brief scuffle before Pete managed to land a headshot and knock him unconscious as well.

Hadrian tried to lunge at one of his attackers, but the mobster hooked his crowbar around Hadrian’s own weapon and yanked it out of his hands. With nothing to defend himself, all he could do was shield his face with his arms. There was a crunch as the mobster’s crowbar met his forearm. He cried out in pain. “Fuck! Not again!”

The group withdrew further into the room as the remaining mobsters closed in on them. As their aggressors engaged them again, Prince fumbled and dropped his still-burning lighter amidst the chaos. The dust on the plush carpet ignited instantly. A blockade of smoke and fire materialized surprisingly quickly between him and the mafiosos.

“Come on!” urged Prince retreated through the next door. The dog darted ahead of him, spooked by the flames. Pete and the kids followed, but the mobsters had to fall back to the jailhouse to escape the inferno. It had been a quick fight, but Prince was shaking from the adrenaline. He turned to Pete.

“You said the upper levels were abandoned!”

Pete shrugged his shoulders and shook his head cluelessly. They are! I don’t know what they’re doing here, he wrote.

The blaze cast a flickering orange glow into the hallway they’d ended up in. At least this place looked empty. Monica made Hadrian sit on the ground and started fixing a splint to his arm. He sighed in defeat. They’d only just got here, and he was already out of the fight.

Prince cautiously opened the door next to them. A janitorial closet. He’d lost his lighter in the last room. They weren’t going to be able to see a thing once they left the fire behind, so he went inside and investigated the shelves.

He picked up a flashlight and brushed the dust off. “Lucky us.”

“See if it turns on first,” said Monica skeptically.

Prince flipped the switch. He smacked the flashlight into the palm of his hand a few times when it didn’t turn on. Nothing happened. “Damn it.”

He shoved the flashlight under his coat. Maybe they would come across some batteries later. As Monica finished patching up Hadrian’s arm, the group continued to the elevator on the other end of the hallway. Prince pushed the call button. “I don’t suppose this thing will take us out of here?”

Pete shook his head as the doors slid open. The control panel only contained deeper floors. His finger hovered over the button that would take them the lowest. They didn’t know precisely how far down the inhabited levels were, and he didn’t want to be jumped again as soon as the elevator reopened. He decided to select one of the higher ones. Better safe than sorry, Prince thought.

They said nothing as the elevator closed and took them downwards. They couldn’t see anything except the red LED display above the door. The floor number ticked into the negatives until it ground to a halt unexpectedly.

“Hold up. That’s not the level I chose,” Prince whispered. He could hear everyone shifting around in the dark as they prepared for the worst.

The doors opened. The person outside the elevator screamed and fumbled with his phone, almost dropping it. He clearly hadn’t been expecting to see anyone. Prince had his crowbar at the ready, but the guy was clad in a hoodie and jeans instead of one of the tailored suits that the mob usually wore.

“Uh… hi,” said Prince.

“Hey? You guys don’t look like mobsters,” the young man replied as he straightened his sunglasses.

“You don’t, either.”

“’Cause I’m not. What are you doing here if you aren’t one of them?” the stranger asked shiftily.

Prince shrugged. “We ran in here during a thunderstorm. Door malfunctioned. Now we’re trapped.”

The stranger buried his hands in his dark hair. “Are you fucking kidding me? The north exit is jammed? I snuck all the way up here for nothing!”

“You’re sneaking out? Were you a prisoner?” Monica probed.

“Ugh. Yeah, yeah, I was,” mumbled the man, who was now pacing around outside the elevator. “Name’s Helios-”

Hadrian snickered. Helios shot him a look.

“What? It’s a code name! I work for the government. I’m not supposed to tell people my real one.”

Hadrian rolled his eyes. “Sure, dude. Whatever.”

“OK, Helios… why were they keeping you down here?” asked Prince.

“I got abducted during the killing purge last year. They’ve been making me work for them. I’m a hacker,” Helios explained. “I managed to slip away from my station a while ago. They went batshit looking for me. It was a nightmare getting up here, and now I have to go all the way back down,” he groaned.

“Really? So you know where the south exit is,” Prince surmised.

Helios held up his phone. “Yeah. I got a blueprint of this place.” He stepped into the elevator with them, but he pursed his lips when he saw which level they had been heading towards. “Nah. That’s the first populated level. The guards would’ve rocked your shit. Get outta this thing,” he urged, gesturing for them to follow him into the floor they were at: a computer room. Most of the computers were powered off and missing keyboards, save for one, which had been plugged into one of the power outlets. Helios must have been using it.

“Any chance you can fix the door upstairs? I think it short circuited,” Monica inquired.

“No shot. I’m a hacker. Not an electrician. But like I said, I know exactly where the south exit is,” Helios responded. The group looked at his phone as he pulled up his map of the base. He marked the spot where the exit was. This place had a lot more floors than Prince had expected.

“This is going to suck,” he murmured.

“Tell me about it. We gotta go on foot, too, ‘cause this elevator won’t take us to the right place,” said Helios as he beckoned them out of the computer lab.

The corridors here were tight and winding. Their footsteps echoed through the metal walls, rough with oxidization and lined with rusty pipes. Stagnant water still dripped from some of them.

Prince grew anxious as he followed Helios. They’d been walking for a while without reaching any stairs or elevators. “Helios, where are you taking us? We’re still on the same floor,” he questioned.

“Relax. We’re making a pit stop,” Helios replied, waving Prince’s concern away.

“Dude, we don’t have time-“

Helios shushed him. They were in front of a door with a round window. Prince peered over Helios’s shoulder to see inside. He’d taken them to a kitchen, and Prince realized that they did, in fact, need to eat.

“How do you know there’s still food in here?” he asked the hacker.

Helios shushed him again. “I came here while I was on the way to the top level. Lower your damn voice. There’s someone inside,” he hissed.

Prince took a closer look through the round window. The oven was on. There was a mobster leaning against the countertop, facing away from them. Only one. “What is that guy doing all the way up here?” he whispered.

“No idea, but he’s alone. Just go bonk him,” Helios encouraged.

Prince moved forward Helios stepped out of the way. He put a hand on the door and gradually eased it open. Thankfully, the hinges didn’t squeak, so he crept inside until he was right behind the mafioso. Prince raised his crowbar.

The door clicked shut. The mobster whirled around at the noise. Prince faltered. His mouth hung open slightly in disbelief as he recognized the mafioso.

“Isaiah?”

Isaiah was scrambling for his own crowbar, but he paused when he heard his name. “Prince?”

Prince let his arm fall to his side. “What the actual shit? You’re still working for the mob?” he exclaimed.

“Why the hell are you in the base?” Isaiah blurted out in an equally baffled tone.

The door creaked as Helios edged it open. “Prince? You good?”

Hadrian pushed him out of the way with his good arm. “Nice to see a familiar face,” he said.

Isaiah looked even more confounded as Pete and the kids emerged. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”

Prince was beginning to get tired of recounting that. “There’s a storm outside. Ran in here. North entrance short circuited. Stuck. Explain why you’re here,” he demanded.

“Because I work here, dumbass,” Isaiah snapped. “You can’t just leave the mafia. They hunt deserters down… not to mention that I got fired from Builder Brothers. The owner found out I had ties to the mob, and now this is the only job I can get,” he muttered bitterly.

Prince scowled, but he supposed Isaiah had a point. “OK, I get it, but why is Larry still letting you work here? You helped us deactivate him.”

“He’s not in charge anymore. Haven’t seen him since that sewer brawl, actually. Someone else took over his duties,” Isaiah revealed.

Prince’s eyebrows shot up. “But a bunch of mobsters ran off with his body. It was on the news. They must have reactivated him, right?”

“Nope. He didn’t show up here, as far as I know. No idea what happened to him.”

The kids glanced at each other uneasily. “Who’s in charge now, then?” said Prince.

“Never met her, but her name is Mary Gearwise.”

“Gearwise? Let me guess, another automaton? Where are all these killer robots coming from?”

Isaiah shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’m just a grunt… wait, aren’t you the hacker that escaped a while ago?” he realized, pointing at Helios.

The hacker looked at him warily. “Maybe. Your friend isn’t gonna turn me in, right?” he asked Prince.

“I ain’t no snitch,” laughed Isaiah.

“Then will you help us get out of the base?” Prince implored.

Isaiah’s smile faded. “Man, do you have any idea what they’ll do to me if I get caught with you guys?”

“Come on, at least help us until we start running into goons. You can wear your mask. They won’t know who you are.”

The mobster picked up his mask from the counter. He mulled Prince’s words over as he looked at it. “I guess so.”

The oven dinged. “On a lighter note… pizza’s done.” Isaiah grabbed an old mitt and pulled the serving board out and placed it on the countertop.

Prince had forgotten about the oven. “Why the hell are you making a pizza all the way up here?” Helios questioned incredulously, gesturing around at the soiled kitchen.

Isiah scratched his neck. “I got hungry, and I didn’t wanna share it with the other guys, OK? So I took a frozen pizza up here.”

“You were gonna eat a whole pizza?”

“Shut up. You guys can have some if you want. You probably aren’t gonna get your hands on food again until you make it out of here,” Isaiah told everyone.

As they ate, the dog nudged the door open with his nose and squeezed through. He’d stayed outside, but it seemed that the smell of cooking had enticed him. Stephanie held out a slice of pizza and tried to coax him closer. The dog gingerly took the slice in his mouth and devoured it ravenously.

Stephanie giggled. The dog let her pet him this time. She read the name tag on his collar. “Twado!” she squeaked. Twado wagged his tail.

The dog chewed on the empty pizza box as Isaiah looked at his watch. He pulled a flashlight out from under his jacket. “We gotta go. I better get you guys out of here while most of the base is asleep,” he said as he motioned for the group to follow him.

They reached a crossroad after a while. “Dude, the map says the closest stairwell is that way,” Helios contested, jabbing a thumb at the right passageway as Isaiah turned left.

“Your map is old. We never update those things. I know a short-”

Isaiah stopped talking mid-sentence as a rusty pipe on the ceiling ruptured in front of him. Scalding hot water hissed as it splashed against the cold metal floor and turned to steam. He didn’t fancy third-degree burns. “Damn. Guess we’re taking the long way around.”

They trailed through the narrow corridors behind the mobster in silence until Prince’s soles started to get sore. Too many stairs, but they eventually ran into a door.

Isaiah reached for the handle. “I think—SHIT!”

He jerked his hand back as the pipe next to the door burst as well, but it wasn’t water that erupted. Isaiah ripped his glove off and threw it to the ground as the substance ate through it.

“What the hell is that?” Price exclaimed.

“It’s the stuff we poured into the sewers last purge. Thought we shut off all the valves already. I need to quit coming up here,” muttered the mafioso. “Nevermind. There’s another way in this room.” He turned to the door on the opposite wall and pushed it open.

They were in an old dormitory. The entrance to the stairwell was on the other side of the room. “As I was saying, I think the next level down is… uh…”

Isaiah stopped in the middle of the room and went silent. He looked up at the entresol. More than a few doors were slightly ajar.

“Isaiah? Something wrong?” Prince whispered.

“The doors were shut last time I was here,” he whispered back.

It was another ambush. The mafiosos threw the dormitory doors open and jumped down from the entresol. Prince cried out as one of them landed on him. He lost his weapon as he wrestled on the floor with the aggressor and grunted in pain when he felt something sharp pierce his side. Twado ran over and clamped his fangs around the mafioso’s leg.

Isaiah hurriedly pulled his mask over his face as more mobsters jumped down and confronted him.

“Is that you, Isa-”

He silenced his colleague with a crowbar to the face before he could get his name out. The other two elected to simply charge at him and Helios without any pleasantries. He dropped his flashlight as they clashed.

Prince felt around for his crowbar in the dark as Twado dragged his attacker away. He heard a yelp Monica clocked the mobster on the head.

Pete stood in front of Hadrian and Stephanie as two more advanced on them. They laughed as they brandished their weapons. “Why don’t you put that crowbar down before you hurt yourself, old man?” one of them snickered. Hadrian covered his sister’s eyes.

Prince found his weapon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He looked over at his uncle as one mobster seized his crowbar while the other delivered a strike to his head, but they turned around as he and Monica came up behind them. Prince tore the blade out of his side and drove it into one of the unsuspecting mobsters’ eyes. She screamed and reeled as Monica aimed a blow at the other mafioso, who sidestepped the hit, but now Prince was coming at him as well.

The mobster made a dash for the stairs, only to run into Isaiah. The two mobsters who’d been accosting him lay in a pile. Isaiah promptly sliced his associate’s throat open using a switchblade of his own. He clutched at the wound and gasped for air, but he could only cough and choke on his blood.

Isaiah scowled beneath his mask at all the noise his victim was making and shut him up with a sharp blow to the skull. He crumpled to the ground, still wheezing and spluttering while unconscious.

That was the last of them. Hadrian picked up Pete’s fallen sunglasses for him. He put them back on as Monica pulled Prince’s bloodied coat off.

“How bad is it?” Prince asked.

Monica grabbed the flashlight from the ground at held it up to inspect Prince’s wound. “Well, since you’re still standing, it’s probably not that deep. I’d put you on bed rest, but…”

She didn’t bother finishing. There was no time for bed rest in this place, of course. There was nothing she could do except clean it and stitch it up.

“They were waiting for us. How did they know you were here?” Isaiah wondered.

Prince shrugged. “We were attacked earlier as well on one of the top levels. I don’t suppose you have security cameras around here?”

“No. Not since…” Isaiah gestured at Helios.

“I knocked them offline while I was trying to escape,” the hacker said. “I know for a fact they’re still down. They couldn’t have seen you.”

Isaiah paced around the dormitory wordlessly as Monica sutured Prince’s wound shut, deep in thought. He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on. We have to-”

He stopped talking as the mobster next to him stirred. There was a crunch as Isaiah stomped on his neck, killing him. Everyone else winced.

“What the hell, Isaiah? That’s not necessary,” Prince admonished.

“Yes, it was. He saw my face earlier. I told you I’m fucked if one of these assholes reports me.”

“He was already unconscious!”

Isaiah got up in Prince’s face, but Helios interrupted their spat before he could say anything. “You two better start getting along, ‘cause we need to make a plan,” he said as he nudged Isaiah away and planted himself between them. He gestured all around at the fallen mafiosos. “We’re gonna be running into plenty of these guys when we reach the bottom of those stairs.”

“Oh. Right. That’s what I was trying to tell you guys earlier. It’s a good thing we ended up in here, actually,” Isaiah said as he disappeared into one of the dorms. They heard him rooting around inside until he came out with a bunch of suits and masks slung over his shoulder, a little faded with age, but still wearable. He dumped them in a pile on the ground. “Ol’ reliable. Everyone put one of these things on.”

Prince pulled a duffel bag out of the pile while he was looking for something his size. “What’s this for?”

“That’s for Twado,” said Isaiah.

Twado gave him the side-eye.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. The boss doesn’t allow dogs in here. You’ll blow our cover if anyone sees you.”

The dog allowed Isaiah to lower him into the bag, but then the group encountered the same problem as last time. Stephanie was sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Maybe we can hide her in the middle of the group again?” Prince suggested.

Isaiah shook his head. “It’s not gonna work. The hallways aren’t wide enough.”

The mafioso drummed his fingers on the strap of the duffel bag. Nobody else was offering up any ideas.

“I know what we can do,” he spoke hesitantly. Everyone looked at him.

Prince blinked. “Well? Spit it out.”

Isaiah held up a hand. “Don’t get mad at me for it.”

Prince’s eyes narrowed.

“First of all, this base is part of a sex trafficking ring,” said Isaiah.

“You better not be about to say any dumb shit.”

Isaiah held up both hands now. “Just listen! We pretend,” he continued, enunciating the ‘pretend’ very clearly, “that Stephanie is one of the girls we abducted—”

“You guys take little girls for that?” Hadrian admonished.

“Look, man, I just work in the canteen. This place didn’t even have a human trafficking branch when I got here. As I was saying, we pretend she’s a…”

Isaiah trailed off as Prince stared daggers.

“Prisoner,” the mobster said slowly. When the elder brother didn’t throttle him, he kept talking. “The shortest path to the exit involves one of the, uh, filming areas, so that’ll be her excuse to be there.”

Helios looked at his blueprint. “He’s right. There’s gonna be another elevator at the end of the filming area’s hallway.” He zoomed in on the location.

Isaiah leaned over to inspect the map as well. “We can ride it to that detention level and act like we’re taking her to a holding cell,” he said as he pointed out a floor below the filming area, “but we can veer away towards the west edge of the base. That place is as deserted as the upper levels. We’ll make our way through there until we reach the lowest level. After that… it gets more difficult.”

“No kidding,” Helios agreed. “That’s where the boss lives. The whole floor is teeming with goons, but the ventilation shafts that far underground are so big that we can fit through them. So, we sneak over to where the elevator is. Get out of the vents while nobody’s looking. Ride it all the way up to the south exit. No sweat,” he schemed as he drew a path with his finger from their location to the exit.

Prince still looked vaguely pissed off, but he nodded. “OK. Fine. Sounds like a plan.”

Chapter III – Incident Report

Prince squinted as his troupe reached the bottom of the stairwell. The fluorescent lights were harsh on his eyes after they’d wandered around in the dark for hours. He scrunched up his face in revulsion as the smell hit him. The filming area reeked of stale sweat and perhaps other fluids that he preferred not to think about.

“There,” Isaiah whispered to Prince, pointing at the elevator on the other end of the corridor. “Hold onto Stephanie and walk in front of us.”

Prince took Stephanie gently by the hand and followed Isaiah down the corridor.

They were alone at first, but Prince was startled as a door next to them opened. A pair of mobsters shoved a girl into the hall with nothing but a worn-out blanket around her shoulders. She stared through Prince with dead eyes as the mafiosos forced her onwards.

The two groups didn’t speak as they passed each other, but one of the mafiosos brushed a lock of dark hair out of Stephanie’s face and leered at her with yellowed teeth as he strolled by. Prince’s hand tightened around his crowbar until his knuckles were white.

Time felt like it was passing agonizingly slowly as they walked. Prince’s face darkened as they passed another door. He could hear the sounds of a struggle inside. A scream pierced the air. He came to a halt as he unwillingly recalled the purge he’d endured. He felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced back at Isaiah. His face was concealed, but Prince could tell the mobster was stone-faced from his eyes. So was his family, staring back at him through their masks. The sight was unnerving, even though he knew it was only them.

“Keep going. There’s nothing you can do for her now,” whispered Isaiah.

Prince turned stiffly and continued on their path.

There were no more disturbances. They made it to the elevator without any resistance. Isaiah punched in the access code and pressed the button for the detention level.

Helios sighed deeply as the doors closed. “That was unpleasant.”

Nobody was in the mood to respond.

Isaiah spoke up as they neared their destination floor. “We have to get the Warden to open the entrance for us. There’s a one-way exit in the holding area that leads to the west edge. No one is allowed to use it, but the cams are off, so who cares. Just let me do the talking. And one more thing: the audio feed is still running, so keep quiet until we get out of there,” he told everyone as the elevator reopened. The mafioso took the lead this time.

The Warden was resting his elbow on the desk with his face in his palm. He’d been looking at his reflection in his dimmed computer screen as he styled his fiery orange mohawk with a free hand, but his lidded eyes followed Isaiah as he approached. He stared at the newcomers, uninterested in initiating a conversation with them.

“Markus. New inmate,” Isaiah said.

Markus turned his eyes to the computer on his table. “The boss didn’t tell me of any new arrivals today,” he replied flatly.

“We haven’t notified her about this one yet. You’re the first to know. Good for you. Open up,” demanded Isaiah.

The Warden lifted his head from his hand. He narrowed his eyes again, now in skepticism instead of tiredness. Prince put himself in front of Hadrian, hopefully obscuring the boy’s splint. “Why did a little girl need five people escorting her here?”

“What the hell am I being interrogated for? This is the rest of my patrol group. We just got back. Quit wasting my time and open the fucking door,” Isaiah snapped.

Markus sighed. “Whatever. Cell 047,” he told the mobster as he stood up. The guy was even taller than Isaiah, Prince realized, and he was wide enough that he had to leave his too-small tuxedo jacket unbuttoned. He entered a string of numbers into the keypad next to the entrance. The blast door screeched open. “Get out of my face,” said the Warden as he waved them inside.

Prince looked straight ahead. Whatever was behind all the steel doors lining the passageway, he didn’t want to see. Markus closed the entrance behind them as they walked away.

Everyone did as Isaiah had said and kept silent until they reached the exit. A lone spider was busy spinning a web on the doorframe. Tough luck for him. The door squealed as Isaiah opened it and beckoned everyone through.

“Alright, we’re in the clear,” he said after he shut the exit.

The concrete corridor ahead looked strangely sterile at first, but a thin film of dust had settled on the ground upon closer inspection. Nobody had been here in a while.

“Where are we?” Prince asked.

Isaiah took off his mask and looked back at him as they made their way through the hall. “It used to be the chem sector when Larry was in charge. Miss Gearwise decommissioned it after she took over. She’s more interested in biotech and cybernetics, apparently. Most of her stuff is on the bottom floor, though.”

Prince peered through the windowpanes in the doors as Isaiah let Twado out of the duffel bag. Glassware and machinery were set up on the tables as if the users had left in a hurry. Binders full of notes and documents were still open on the desks. Even the lights were still on.

“Looks like she couldn’t wait to shut this place down,” Prince remarked.

Isaiah didn’t look at him now. He just shrugged.

Prince wished the mafioso would talk a little more, because the silence here was even more eerie than it had been in the derelict upper levels. The laboratory looked too clean and orderly. It felt wrong for it to be deserted. He was almost glad when the blindingly white walls gave way to rough stone and steel floors as they moved yet deeper into the base.

They were surrounded by a mess of tubing and shafts as they walked. There were no walls here at all to hide the plumbing and ventilation systems.

“Where are we now?” Prince wondered out loud.

“Still in the chem lab. Larry wasn’t one for frills. He didn’t bother with dressing the place up when he expanded it downwards,” Isaiah answered.

“You know a lot about that guy. Didn’t you only know him for a few days before we took him out?” Hadrian remarked. Isaiah shot him a glare over his shoulder, but not before Monica elbowed her little brother. The last thing they needed was to piss their guide off, even if he might be keeping secrets.

The mobster’s dark irises looked black in the low lighting. “You know I hate it when people ask too many questions, right? I hear the other mafiosos talking about him sometimes, is all,” he claimed as he turned away.

Maybe it was for the best that he and the rest of the group didn’t talk much. The sound of dripping water and air flowing through the vents suited Prince just fine now, but after a while, his ears picked up something that was neither of those. Thumping? It wasn’t quite loud enough for him to tell.

“Do you guys hear that?”

Isaiah paused. “Hear what?”

They all listened, but whatever noise Prince heard had stopped now. “Nevermind. It’s gone.”

Isaiah pursed his lips in annoyance at the interruption and continued forward. Prince didn’t notice any more strange sounds, and he’d started to think he’d been imagining it until he heard it again, much louder this time. Everyone stopped in their tracks and looked up. The rusted ventilation panel above them was starting to buckle. “Get back!” Isaiah whispered harshly.

The old screws snapped apart and the vent gave way. Out tumbled a stout man in a trench coat. He grunted in discomfort as he landed in a heap in front of the group. He scrambled to his feet after he glanced up and realized he wasn’t alone, but his panic was short-lived as he beheld the bizarre caravan in front of him. They stared back, equally perplexed. The guy looked like he’d been ripped straight out of a generic mystery film.

Isaiah had pulled his mask over his face once more, but he cautiously removed it again when he saw that it wasn’t one of his own associates who had shown up. “Who the hell are you?”

The man hesitated, seemingly reluctant to reveal that, but Pete pushed his way to the front of the gathering. The stranger’s face lit up.

“Peter! It’s been too long!” he exclaimed as he slapped his hand on Pete’s shoulder. “But what are you doing here?”

Pete scribbled a few sentences on his whiteboard. Kidnapped. My nieces and nephews are trapped here as well. North exit broke down. Looking for the other one.

“The north exit malfunctioned? How odd,” the stranger pondered.

Pete turned back towards the group and wrote again.

“Detective Bradley Beans,” Prince read out loud.

Bradley snapped out of his musings. “Hm? Oh, yes, that’s me. I was assigned to spy on the mob’s activities here. I’ve been using the ventilation system to stay out of sight, but…”

He eyed the broken vent.

“Perhaps I ought to lose a few pounds. Very fortunate that I was in the west edge.” Bradley picked his fallen umbrella up from the ground. “Anyway, Pete here was a coworker of mine before he retired. Good to see you again, old man,” said the Detective, patting the old man on the back.

“Wow. How long have you been hiding here?” Prince asked.

“Almost a year. I arrived soon after the last purge. I heard all about your battle with Mr. Clockturn. Very remarkable, though I wish the national guard would have moved in a bit quicker… kids shouldn’t have to wrangle crime lords,” grumbled Bradley, shaking his head. His gaze shifted to Isaiah. “Who is your, er, companion?”

“This is Isaiah. He helped us during the purge. And now he’s helping us find our way out of here,” Prince explained.

“I see. Well, there’s no use in dallying here, then. I was actually on my way out as well. Care to lead the way, Isaiah?” Bradley invited, motioning for the mobster to go on ahead of him. He did.

Maybe he shouldn’t pry, but Prince was curious. “So… you’ve been investigating the mob? What did you see?” he asked as they walked.

The Detective’s face grew serious. “One of the reasons I was sent here was to find out what happened to Mr. Clockturn after his body was taken. I already had a hunch that Miss Gearwise had a hand in his disappearance. The evidence I’ve compiled confirmed it. He’s in here somewhere.”

Trepidation rippled through the group.

“I haven’t seen him, but I overheard the personnel in the cybernetics sector speaking of him. The papers I managed to nick suggest Miss Gearwise has been performing experiments on him, and it doesn’t seem that he’s a willing participant.”

“What kind of experiments?” Prince questioned.

Bradley’s brow was crumpled in worry. “The documents didn’t detail their nature or purpose, I’m afraid. I went looking for some that did, but I came up empty handed… Miss Gearwise has put a lot of effort into keeping her activities secret. I suspect he’s being held in the bottommost level, but it was too risky to go poking around there.”

Hadrian rolled his eyes. “Sucks to be him, but what is he? Who is making these freaks?”

Bradley opened his mouth to answer, but then he frowned, stopping himself. “It’s classified info. I assure you that law enforcement has it handled.”

There was a door in their way, but it refused to open when Isaiah put his hand on the push bar. Prince looked at the keypad next to it. “Please tell me you know the code.”

“No need for that.” Isaiah dug through his pocket for his keycard and inserted it into the side of the pad. The door unlocked with a click, and he shoved it open with unneeded force. The mobster had been quiet, but Prince observed that he was becoming more and more vexed as Bradley recounted his findings. Cops and gangsters weren’t exactly friends, of course, but he thought Isaiah’s reactions were still a little over the top.

Isaiah went ahead, but everyone else was reluctant to enter the new area. A metal bridge was suspended over a wide pool of roiling red liquid.

Prince stepped onto the crossing uncertainly. The fumes stung his eyes. “Isaiah? What is that?”

The mafioso turned around. “This is where we made the chemical we emptied into the sewers.” His shoes clanked softly against the bridge’s metal lattices as he continued across. “We’ll be fine. Just don’t fall in,” he reminded Prince. He seemed pretty sure of himself, so everybody followed.

They heard heavy footsteps approaching long before they could reach the other side. Isaiah redonned his mask. “This is the worst possible time.” He looked back at the door they’d entered from.

The Warden’s huge shadow approached. He kicked the entrance open and stepped onto the bridge, followed closely by four of his pals. “I knew you guys were up to some bullshit,” he muttered as he motioned for the other mafiosos to charge.

Markus looked like he could drop all of them on his own, but Prince knew they wouldn’t make it to the exit before their assailants reached them. His fist clenched around his weapon. He might be able to shove the big guy off the bridge if he was deft enough…

Isaiah had different plans. He jammed his crowbar through a joint in the bridge and gritted his teeth as he strained to pry the two sections apart. Realizing what the mobster was doing, Prince knelt down to help out. They jumped back as soon as they heard the rusty screws break.

Markus held out his arm to stop his cronies from going any further. The bridge section in front of him slanted dangerously towards the corrosive liquid far below.

The Warden shook his head. “Back up. I have a better idea,” he said as he ushered the other mobsters back into the hallway.

Isaiah’s eyes widened. “MOVE!” he shouted as he bolted towards the exit.

Too slow. The lock engaged right before he touched the door. He punched it in frustration. “Damn it!” he roared as an alarm bell rang through the chamber.

“Isaiah? What does that mean?” Prince asked as the hazard lights on the walls blinked on. He looked at Monica as she tapped his shoulder and saw that she was staring at the red liquid under them. It was rising. He looked up at Isaiah again.

“The doors seal automatically when someone brings the liquid level up.” Isaiah pointed at the console attached to the wall. “We have to reactivate the drawdown system, but I don’t know the passcode,” he explained hastily.

Prince’s gaze darted between Isaiah and the keypad. “Won’t your keycard work?”

“Fucking look, man! There’s no slot for the keycard here!”

Helios pushed him out of the way. “Let me see what I can do,” he said as he fished a USB drive out of his sling bag and inserted it into one of the console’s ports. Prince heard him typing as fast as he could while the caustic chemicals hissed and simmered against the bridge’s supports.

“Uh, Isaiah? Aren’t the beams corrosion resistant?” Hadrian asked, his voice quivering.

Isaiah kept his eyes on the framework beneath them as it sizzled. “Yeah…? But we were never allowed to bring the liquid level this high back when the chem lab was-”

He stopped speaking abruptly as the scaffolds creaked and the bridge started to tilt. Everyone shuffled around anxiously, inching towards the locked door. Twado ran back and forth across the bridge frenetically, but there was nowhere to go.

“Quit bunching up like sardines! You guys are gonna collapse this thing faster,” Monica warned. “Helios? How much longer?”

“Chill. I almost got it,” the hacker replied as the bridge continued to waver.

Prince heard something snap below them as the console beeped and the alarms shut off. They all let out a collective sigh of relief as the liquid began receding, but the support beams were already done for. Helios was nearly flattened as everyone barreled through the exit. They heard the bridge splash into the chemicals behind them.

Markus had been watching them through the window on the other door. He slammed his fist against the wall as he saw the intruders escape before moving out of sight.

“That was a bit too close for comfort,” Bradley breathed.

Isaiah glared at him. “Yeah. It was. The vent you guys are looking for is right at the end of the tunnel.” He said, jabbing a thumb behind him. “Find the elevator yourselves. I’m outta here.”

“What? Come on, man,” Prince implored, reaching out to stop him. “At least point out the right shaft-“

The mobster shrugged him off. “No! You guys have dragged me too far into your shit,” he spat. “And Markus saw your faces, you know. He’s probably on his way to tell Miss Gearwise all about you, so get going,” he finished, waving them off. Isaiah turned away into a connecting corridor and left them alone.

Chapter IV – Interlude

The apertures of Larry’s optical sensors contracted in discomfort as the lights switched on. He heard Mary’s high heels clicking softly against the floor as she stepped into his view, a lab coat thrown over her viridian dress. The disgraced crime boss struggled in his restraints, but that hadn’t worked before, and it wasn’t working now. Mary tittered at his efforts as Larry sighed and went limp on the operating table.

“Good evening, Larry. Or morning, rather. I think it’s past midnight,” she laughed, her tone maddeningly cavalier in contrast to what she was about to do. A glower was Larry’s only response.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Mary walked out of his field of vision and opened one of the cabinets in the operating room. Larry could only listen to her preparing the necessary apparatus, her tools clinking against the steel tray. “All I’ve done is try to help you, and all I get in return is insults and vitriol.”

A few wisps of steam seeped from the ventilation slits on Larry’s face. He’d heard Mary voice her false concern for him too many times. “Who do you think you’re fooling?” he growled.

Larry heard the flames roar indignantly in Mary’s firebox. The tools on her tray rattled as she set it down on the stand next to the surgical table forcefully. She wasn’t smiling any more as she walked to the head of the table. She placed her hands on either side of him and leaned in.

“Stop behaving as if you don’t understand me, Larry. You were deactivated by a pack of children and allowed the purge to end early. You are worthless to this organization as you are. You were weak and I fixed you, whether you and your overblown ego can admit it or not,” she hissed, her breath blisteringly hot against his metallic skin. It would have been painful back when he’d still had flesh to melt… but that was a long time ago.

Larry clenched his fists at her words. His claws grated against the palms of his hands. “Overblown ego? You’re the one who painted your casing,” he spat, sneering at the Mary’s conceit.

Mary smirked, her moodiness fading as abruptly as it had appeared. “Ha! Am I vain for taking care of myself? You look like you haven’t been polished in years,” she taunted. The bright lights glinted on her pearly white coating as she stood up straight and returned to her tray of implements. “But I think that’s enough small talk.”

She reached out and loosened the buttons on his shirt. Larry snapped his metal jaws at her hand, but she pulled away before he could catch her fingers in his teeth.

He heard Mary pick up one of her tools. A mechanical buzzing filled the operating theater. He strained against his fetters again. This was the moment he’d been dreading for so long.

Mary loomed over him, the ghost of a smile on her lime green lips. The surgical lamp formed a halo of harsh fluorescent light around her as she brought the metal cutter to his chest.

Chapter V – Judgement Hall

Prince let his arm fall limply to his side as he watched Isaiah disappear around the bend. Helios patted him on the shoulder once the mobster was out of earshot. “We’ll be fine without him. I told you I know where the elevator is. Let’s go,” he said, gently urging Prince to start down the other hallway.

Helios led them now, and he walked fast. There was no telling how long they had before Markus tipped the boss off to their whereabouts. They didn’t have any trouble finding the vent, but Helios didn’t have anything to open it with. “Anyone got a screwdriver handy? I, uh, left mine in my hoodie when we got changed,” he admitted.

Bradley searched his overcoat for his screwdriver, but he gave Helios an odd look as he did. “Agent Helios? Is that you?”

The hacker’s jaw tightened. “Just get the vent open, old man.”

Prince cocked an eyebrow. “You guys know each other?”

Helios looked at Bradley disdainfully as the Detective knelt down and unscrewed the panel. “This asshole was one of the guys who arrested me a few years back. I used to be a part of Anonymous.”

Bradley’s face grew sour at the hacker’s enmity, but he ignored him.

Oblivious to the tension, Hadrian’s eyes lit up. “Whoa! You were in Anonymous? That’s cool as fuck!”

“But you work for the government now,” Prince pointed out. “How did that happen?”

“They gave me a choice when they brought me in. Work for them or go to the slammer. I think it’s pretty obvious which one I chose.”

The last screw clinked to the ground. Bradley moved the vent cover aside and gestured wordlessly for Helios to enter first.

Stephanie faltered in front of the opening, her face blank. She’d been growing quieter and quieter as they ventured further into the base, retreating into herself, but Prince didn’t know what he could do except keep her close. He crouched down to her level and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Monica and I will go in front of you, OK? Just follow us. We’ll be…”

He stopped himself. He didn’t know when they were going to be home.

“We’ll be out of here soon. I promise.”

She nodded silently. The eldest siblings went first. Stephanie slowly clambered into the duct after them.

The passage was wide enough that they didn’t have to crawl, but they were almost bent double as they wormed through the cramped shaft. Prince almost thought he could discern distant screams, but maybe it was only the air rustling in his ears as it rushed through the tunnel around them.

He followed close behind Helios, whose nose was buried in his phone, examining the map as he walked. Prince could see the rooms they were passing through the narrow slots in the vent panels. Dorms. Armories. Warehouses. Computer labs. Workshops and laboratories. He paused as they passed an office.

Monica nearly bumped into him. “Prince? What’s the hold up?” she whispered. Helios halted and glanced back to look at him quizzically as well when he heard him stop walking.

Prince peered through the ventilation slits. “It’s an office. I see Markus.”

Helios and Monica crowded in next to Prince to take a look for themselves. Markus wasn’t alone. They couldn’t make out the conversation, but the Warden was speaking to a woman noticeably taller than him. Her hair, tied into a bun, was unnaturally reflective, and so was her pale opaline skin.

“It’s the boss,” Helios murmured.

Bradley piped up from the back of the lineup, careful to keep his voice low. “We don’t have time to dawdle here, then. We’ve got to get to the elevator before they figure out where we are.”

Prince lingered for a moment longer. Mary didn’t look too pleased with whatever the Warden was telling her. She glanced towards the vent. Her emerald LED eyes met with his for a instant. Prince’s blood froze in his veins.

Mary’s eyes flitted back to Markus before he could react, though, and there was no change in her hard visage. Maybe he was mistaken. She hadn’t seen him. He told himself so, at least.

“Dude? You okay?”

Prince was brought out of his thoughts by Helios’s voice. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Uh, Bradley is right. Let’s hurry up,” he stammered, suddenly very eager to get moving again.

Helios didn’t delay. They weren’t far from their target now, and it wasn’t long before he spied their exit elevator from behind a vent.

“There!” he whispered, but he hesitated. “I don’t see anyone, though. Is this place always so empty?”

The hall was dark and devoid of mobsters. Nobody could answer Helios’s question, of course. Prince wished Isaiah was here to tell them whether it was shady or not. Either way, this simplified things. They didn’t have to figure out how to get out of the ventilation system without looking suspicious.

They couldn’t reach the screws from the inside of the vent, so Helios stuck his crowbar in between the wall and the panel and pried until the cover snapped open. Everyone squeezed out, but when they stood before the elevator, they saw that none of the buttons or indicators were lit. Prince pushed one. Nothing happened.

There was a shrill bout of audio feedback as the intercoms in the hall switched on. The corridor reverberated with a woman’s bitter, derisive laughter. “Don’t bother. I already disabled it. You won’t be going anywhere, boy. You and your friends have broken into my base and caused me a lot of trouble.”

Prince was too cowed to respond. Monica spoke instead.

“We didn’t break in! Your shitty door malfunctioned and trapped us inside. We don’t even want to be here. Let us leave,” Monica demanded.

“I don’t think so. After all, how many of my guards have you massacred?” Mary reminded them.

“Oh, please. You talk like these kids were the instigators,” Bradley rebuked.

“Detective Beans! I knew there was an informant in here. And now I don’t even need to hunt you down,” Mary gloated. “You came here looking for Larry, didn’t you? You can forget about that. I doubt you’ll be living long enough to see him.”

The blast door at the other end of the hallway opened up. The lights blinked on. The group realized that they weren’t as alone as they thought. They could see the silhouettes of mobsters through the windows lining the corridor, glaring at them through their uncanny purge masks.

“This should be fun,” quipped Mary. The intercom switched off with a thunk.

With no other choice, the group hesitantly made their way to the door. Heat radiated from the adjoining room, though it turned out that calling it a room was an understatement. The cavern was gigantesque. The walls on either side were thick metal. The jagged granite on the opposite side of the entrance was left unrefined, save for the wall of the control room and the mezzanine that Mary was standing upon, glowering down at them from high above. Molten lava churned below the metal platform ahead of them, linked to their door by nothing except a rickety rope bridge. Prince was reluctant to walk across. The thing didn’t look like it would hold their combined weight.

There were footsteps from their rear. The mafiosos were skulking towards them now, brandishing their weapons, compelling them forward.

They were boxed in, so Prince took a tentative step onto the bridge. The boards creaked as he walked onto the platform. The bridge gave way and fell into the lava after everyone had crossed—one of the mobsters had severed the ropes with his knife behind them. Prince looked up at Mary, wondering what her plan was. He couldn’t see much more than her glowing eyes in the darkness overhead.

“Ah, we meet at last… though it seems that some of your allies have deserted you,” Mary laughed. Her voice was shrill and tinny compared to Larry’s baritone, but it echoed through the cave all the same.

They glanced around at each other. She was right. Prince hadn’t been paying attention, but Helios and Uncle Pete had not followed them in.

“No matter. My subordinates will deal with them,” she continued. With that out of the way, Mary looked the gathering up and down as she leaned on her crowbar. “You’re aware there were firearms in the supply depots, right? I know you passed a few of those on your way here,” she told them, quirking an eyebrow.

Prince wasn’t too sad that they’d missed the guns—the rounds would probably ricochet right off Mary’s casing anyway—but Mary’s jeering was making him more annoyed than afraid. “Did you bring us in here for a fight or to talk shit at us?”

Mary narrowed her eyes at his provocation. She beckoned one of the operatives inside the control room. Markus came out and handed her violin to her. She placed it beneath her chin and drew her crowbar across the strings, producing a poignant melody, and Prince immediately heard burbling from the pipeline at the edge of the platform. There was a thin scraping noise as the valve’s handwheel turned on its own.

Everyone retreated towards the other end of the platform as lava spilled out of the pipe, but it streamed until they were backed up to the very edge. Any closer and the heat would start to sear them.

However, as they teetered on the edge, the valve screeched shut and the lava flow spluttered out. The group glanced around at each other, both relieved and confused.

There was a discordant twang Mary’s music faltered. Bewilderment crossed her sharp features. It appeared that she didn’t know what was happening, either. She started to play again after a moment, but the valve made a stubborn scraping noise, refusing to reopen.

Mary scowled deeply. She played a different tune this time. The lava started to drain, but their respite was short-lived as she thrust her violin back into Markus’s hands and jumped down from the mezzanine. There was a resounding bang as her high heels met steel, sending a tremor across the platform.

“Let’s dance.”

Chapter VI – Gearwise

Clang. Whirr. Prince had heard that once before, but now he was ready for it as Mary bolted at him, buzzsaws unsheathed. The blades whined in his ear as he rolled out of the way. He managed to keep all his blood inside him this time, at least for the moment.

Prince didn’t waste time in retaliating, lunging at Mary with his crowbar as she retracted her saws. She didn’t look as tough as Larry. He thought he might be able to take her down the old-fashioned way, but he was quickly disillusioned as his weapon bounced off of her casing harmlessly, barely even chipping her paint.

Mary responded in kind, and her blow sent him off the edge of the platform, but he managed to grab onto the rim, narrowly avoiding a fiery death. Winded, he wheezed and gasp for air as he gingerly dragged himself back to safety… well, relative safety. His ribs were aching like hell.

Hadrian started towards the automaton, but Bradley held an arm out to stop him. “Don’t be reckless. Your arm is injured. Stay out of this and keep your sister safe,” the Detective told him, nodding at Stephanie. The girl held onto her brother’s leg tightly.

Twado rushed at Mary instead, gnashing his teeth, evidently furious at her for striking Prince. She must not have wanted her gilded crowbar to touch the mangy thing, because her lip curled in disgust as she delivered a swift kick to his side. A few of the kids winced as they heard a crack. The dog yelped as he slid across the platform and lay still. Bradley hurried over to check on him.

The dog had diverted Mary’s attention. Maybe Monica had the chance to turn her wind-up key. She tried to edge around the automaton while she was occupied with Twado and reached up to grab it, but she’d barely touched her fingertip to the key before Mary turned abruptly and snatched Monica by the wrist in a crushing grip. She flung the girl at Prince as if she were as light as a ragdoll, and Prince had only just climbed back onto the platform when Monica collided with him, sending both of them off the edge again.

Prince caught the rim of the stage again. Monica could only grab hold of the cuff of Prince’s jeans. He tried to pull himself up, but it was impossible this time with the added weight.

Bradley stood up from where Twado was—the dog seemed fine now—and ran towards them as they dangled from the rim, but Mary sauntered into his path.

Mary opened her mouth, probably to expound another snide remark, but she was cut off before she got so much as a word out. Bradley wasted no time in striking out with his umbrella. Prince thought the guy was about to get knocked out cold, but he must have been even stronger than he looked, because Mary staggered marginally as she blocked the hit with her crowbar.

“That’s another charge of resisting arrest, Miss Gearwise,” said Bradley through gritted teeth. She just laughed wryly.

While Bradley engaged the automaton, Twado bounded to the edge of the platform and grabbed Prince’s sleeve with his teeth, slowly and steadily towing him and Monica up.

Bradley tried to bring his umbrella down onto Mary’s head, but she caught it in her hand. The Detective tried to yank it out of her grasp. She held on.

He recognized too late that he had no way to parry her crowbar now. Mary swung for Bradley’s skull. He reacted quick and tried to evade the blow, but it still clipped the side of his head, knocking his hat askew. He stumbled backwards and clutched his temple, dazed.

Mary grinned viciously and raised her weapon to finish him off, but the look was wiped off her face as someone wrenched her wind-up key. She hissed in displeasure and froze up for a moment as her gears seized, but her disorientation didn’t last long.

The automaton spun around with her smirk replaced with a look of acute loathing. She lashed out and raked Prince across the face with her sharp fingernails before he could respond, leaving several long, bloody gashes behind. A guttural snarl escaped from Mary’s lips as she did, as if it was gravely insulting that the boy would even try to lay his filthy fingers on her key.

She didn’t have time to assault Prince any further, though. Bradley had already come to his senses. He adjusted his hat. Mary glanced over her shoulder as she heard the Detective’s footsteps on the steel stage. She saw movement from the corner of her mechanical eye. Monica and Twado were flanking her from both sides. Even the injured Hadrian had grown tired of being sidelined and was now advancing towards Mary as well.

The automaton whirled around and feinted at Bradley, just to keep him away. She must have realized that at least one of them would get their hands on her wind-up key if she tried to fight them all at once. The mechanisms in Mary’s legs clicked as they engaged. She leapt onto one of the tall stone pillars surrounding the platform, perching on it gracefully.

The group stared up at her. Prince spread his arms in a challenge. “Get the fuck back down here, you bitch!” he roared, his face still bleeding. Mary said nothing. She simply smirked and licked a few drops of blood off her manicured nails.

Monica pulled some gauze out of her first aid kit. Prince irritably tried to shrug her off—“I’m fine”—but she managed to press it onto his face and stem the flow of blood.

Bradley pointed at Mary with his umbrella. “Mary Gearwise, I have reason to believe that you were involved in the disappearance of Larry Clockturn. I demand you reveal his whereabouts at once!”

Mary threw her head back and cackled. “You want to know what happened to Larry? Fine. I’ll show you.” She looked over at the control room and nodded at Markus. He pulled a lever on one of the panels.

There was a harsh grinding sound as the wall to their left slowly parted. They hadn’t noticed it when they came in here, but it was actually an enormous sliding gate.

Everyone backed away as it opened. It might have been some sort of depot, though it was hard to tell though the darkness. The light from a pair of LED eyes pierced through the shadows.

Big ones.

Raucous metallic scraping filled the air as the goliath activated and hauled itself from the ground, exposed gears and levers ticking loudly. Its rugged plating caught the orange glow of the lava beneath.

“What the Hell is that?” cried Prince as the clockwork behemoth took a step forward, making the entire cavern quake.

“It’s the new and improved Larry Clockturn, of course,” Mary declared. Markus emerged from the control room and tossed her violin to her. She started to play again. At the sound of her music, the aperture of the machine’s eye dilated and blazed brightly. Its gaze zeroed in on Prince.

Bradley understood what was happening first. “Prince! Get out of the way!” he hollered.

Crimson light flooded the room as Larry discharged his laser. Prince dived out of the way just in time, but he could still feel the scorching heat against his back as the beam passed him by.

It melted through the steel flooring like butter. The scaffolds holding it up groaned as they started to bend. Prince scrambled to his feet and stared up at Larry as his laser fizzled out. The automaton’s optical receptors contracted to the size of pinpricks and darted around frantically. He seemed almost afraid, but the look vanished almost as soon as it had shown up.

Prince didn’t have time to think about what that meant. The two halves of the stage were dipping away from each other.

The group was separated. Twado leapt across the gap before it became too wide and grabbed the back of Stephanie’s shirt in his mouth, who was slipping down the incline, and lugged her over to Prince and Hadrian. The eldest brother pulled Stephanie into his arms as their half of the platform swayed dangerously above the lava.

Bradley and Monica were trapped on the other side. They looked across at them helplessly. The columns holding them up had thankfully stopped buckling, but there was nowhere to run.

Mary grinned in morbid anticipation as Larry prepared to bisect the platform a second time. His eye dilated again. However, the LED flickered as his laser failed to charge up all the way. Bradley retreated as the beam struck the ground in front of him, but it wasn’t hot enough to melt through the metal.

Mary’s smile faded slightly. “My apologies… I thought I had already disabled his free will. He appears to be resisting my commands. How cute,” she crooned as she drew her crowbar over the strings of her instrument once more.

Larry’s components creaked and juddered as he tried to move, but his gears had locked up. His eye flashed on and off, refusing to even begin charging this time.

Now Mary was scowling. She glared into the control room. Markus shrugged and shook his head at her. She turned towards Larry again just in time to see a masked mafioso clamber onto his shoulder. Mary’s eyes widened in outrage as he thrust his crowbar through a gap in the giant automaton’s casing and triggered his emergency shutdown mechanism.

Chapter VII – AWOL

“Helios.”

Helios frowned. He looked around, but there was no one else in the hallway with him and his troupe. Just the mobsters staring at them through the windows.

“Helios!” the voice hissed again. Oh. It was coming from behind him. Helios slowed his pace and glanced back discreetly, lagging behind the rest of the group. Isaiah was peeking out of the vent they’d come in here from. He beckoned the hacker over.

Helios peered around again. The mobsters seemed to be fixated on the others. He slipped away and reentered the vent before anyone noticed.

“Isaiah? I thought you were done with us,” Helios whispered.

“I changed my mind. We have to move,” Isaiah replied. Helios trailed him cautiously.

“Why? Where are we going?”

“Mary called almost everyone in the base to the primary control room. Her lab is pretty much unguarded, so I decided to snoop around a little bit. I found Larry. Deactivated. Chassis ripped wide open,” Isaiah recounted, knitting his brow as he recalled the scene. “I found the blueprints for his new body.”

“New body? What are you saying?”

“I’m getting to that part! Mary cut his heart out. She made him a new body that she could control. The thing is giant. She’s using his heart as the energy source, and the heart is him, so his original body isn’t gonna wake up without it. She’s going to use the new one on your pals. They have no chance.”

“And we’re just letting them walk into the trap?”

“I need them to stall her, and she was going to lock the base down and have her lackeys kill them anyway if they didn’t show up. I have a plan. Larry’s new body has computerized parts, not just clockwork ones. It helps her control him, but it also means he can be hacked. I’m taking you to the lab. There’s a console there that she used to test him out. It’s got the blueprints in it and everything. I think you can use it to access his network, but you have to deactivate the lava pipeline system first… we don’t want your buddies getting their legs burnt to a crisp before they even see the big guy. I need you to get him to stay still long enough for me to reach him and trip his e-stop. Got it?”

“Yeah, I think I can do that.”

“Good.” Isaiah stopped in front of the spot where a ventilation panel used to be, but he must have broken it open already while he’d been sneaking around. He climbed out and showed Helios the console. “This is the place. Try to do this quietly. There are still a couple guards outside the door,” he whispered to Helios. The mobster thrust a two-way radio into his hands. “Use that to tell me when Larry is immobilized.”

Helios nodded, but Isaiah was already reentering the vent, leaving him on his own. The hacker cracked his knuckles and got to work.

Chapter VIII – System Reboot

Prince watched as Larry shut down and toppled backwards. It reminded the boy of when he’d beaten the automaton in the sewers, but the ensuing impact was much, much louder this time when he hit the ground.

Mary threw her violin at Markus. “Deal with that traitor!” she thundered at him. The Warden reentered the control room and sent some of the operators away. They ran through the door, heading for Larry’s depot. The masked mobster was standing on Larry’s chest now, trying to pry one of the plates open. It had to be Isaiah.

“What are you doing, man? Mind getting us off of this platform?” Prince called out.

Isaiah glanced up at him and held up a finger. Wait.

Prince turned around as a mechanical hum filled the cave. He’d expected Mary to jump down and confront the group, but she was still glowering down at them from the stone pillar. The noise had to be coming from her.

The temperature in the formerly stifling cavern was dropping fast. Prince looked up as a raindrop hit his face. Were those clouds?

“She’s got a weather machine built into her!” Bradley realized as lightning struck the ground right in front of him. An indoor tempest was brewing.

Isaiah got Larry’s chassis open and heaved the metal plate away until the gap was large enough for him to fit inside. His gaze scanned the internal hardware until he spotted the automaton’s clockwork heart. It was strangely amusing how such a comparatively small gadget had been powering a giant robot. He lowered himself through the gears and circuitry until it was within reach and gingerly disconnected the tubes and cables holding it in place. The ticking of the mechanism’s gears slowed down as he removed it. An iridescent mystery liquid sloshed around inside the heart’s windowed ventricles as Isaiah climbed back out of the chassis.

The lava sizzled as rain pattered against it. Prince could feel the electricity in the air before lightning hit the spot where he’d been standing moments before. “Dude! What’s the situation?” he yelled at Isaiah.

Isaiah was too absorbed in his task to respond. He’d already dragged Larry’s real body into the depot before he’d gone to fetch Helios, but he didn’t have a lot of time. He was screwed if the other mafiosos made it here before he had Larry operational. Isaiah sprinted to the corner where he’d left the automaton with the heart in his hands and stooped down to set it back in Larry’s chest cavity. It clicked into place.

The mobster stuck his hand under his suit and felt around for the brazing torch and rod he’d brought with him. He fumbled with the hose for a second before he inserted it into the fuel cylinders on the ground and lit the torch, carefully soldering Larry’s tubes and pipes back onto his heart.

A gale was beginning to pick up. Bradley rolled out of the way as a fork of lightning targeted him again. The wind buffeted him, but perhaps that was a good thing.

The Detective opened his umbrella. The motor inside it began to rumble. He held it up and let a gust carry him towards Mary. She took a swipe at him with her crowbar as he neared, but he veered out of the way and landed behind her. He grabbed her key and twisted it counterclockwise a second time before Mary could do anything about it.

Mary winced as she turned and swung her crowbar wide, striking Bradley in the side. He grunted in discomfort and tumbled from the pillar as the vent cover above Mary popped off and smacked against her head. Pete jumped through and landed on her, casting her down from the pillar as well before he reentered the ventilation shaft and vanished again.

Bradley drifted to the floor with his umbrella and gently touched his feet to the ground next to Monica. Mary hit the ground on the other end of the platform with a crash. She groaned in discomfort as she heaved herself to her feet, but her grousing quickly became a snarl as she stalked towards the Detective.

Pete soon emerged from a vent in the depot. He hastily scrawled something across his whiteboard as he rushed to Isaiah: HURRY THEY ARE ALMOST HERE

Larry’s golden eyes blinked on as Isaiah made the last connection. He sat up immediately and wrapped his huge hand around the mobster’s throat. Isaiah dropped his brazing torch to pry the automaton’s fingers away.

“Get your hands off of me, you asshole! I’m trying to help you!” Isaiah snapped.

Larry’s eyes widened slightly, as if he was surprised to hear Isaiah’s voice coming from behind that mask. The automaton glanced down at his chassis, still wide open. He reluctantly released Isaiah and lay down again. “Get on with it, then,” he spat, still glaring.

Isaiah picked up the sheet of metal that Mary had cleaved away from Larry’s casing and placed it over his chest. He picked up the torch again and slowly ran it along the seams. The automaton tensed up at the searing heat, but he held still.

Isaiah had barely finished when Larry shoved the mobster away and got to his feet. He’d secured the plate just in time, too, because the mafiosos that Markus had sent came charging through the depot doors as Larry buttoned up his shirt and picked up his crowbar.

The mafiosos skidded to a standstill when they saw the reactivated Larry standing before them, tall and terrible. He swung his crowbar into the closest one’s abdomen with quite a bit more strength than necessary, burying the curved end in his innards. There was a nauseating squelch and a strangled yelp from the mobster. A section of his viscera came out with Larry’s crowbar as the automaton pulled it free. The others turned tail and ran back the way they’d came as their comrade collapsed into a convulsing heap, too afraid to even try to fight him.

Isaiah made a disgusted noise. “Ugh. That was overkill,” he mumbled as he kicked the whimpering mafioso into the lava. Larry paid him no mind. He turned to the platform. Mary wasn’t the only one who could leap high. He cleared the gap easily and landed right behind her.

The platform shook as his shoes met the steel platform. The scaffolds finally buckled, sending his end of the stage plunging. He was prepared for that. Mary wasn’t. She lost her balance as the platform sank slowly into the molten rock.

Larry grabbed his tormentor with both hands and hurled her into the lava.

Chapter IX – Exit Path

The mafiosos could only watch as Mary disappeared into the molten rock. Markus stared in disbelief until there was a stir in the control room. The mobsters began quarrelling… then they drew weapons on each other. A brawl broke out.

They were fighting amongst themselves. Prince realized as a splatter of blood hit the windowpane that Larry’s old goons must have wanted him back in charge.

Bradley unfurled his umbrella again before the gale storm died down completely. He took Monica’s hand. They both glided into the depot.

The Detective grabbed hold of the metal plate that Isaiah had removed from the behemoth earlier. “Help me move this thing,” he called out to the others.

They lugged the plate towards the edge of the pit and pushed it outwards until it met Prince’s half of the platform. It wobbled precariously, but they held it down as Prince crossed the improvised bridge with Stephanie in his arms. Hadrian and Twado followed from behind. Larry jumped back into the depot as well, landing disconcertingly close to the group. The kids shrank away as Bradley stepped in front of them protectively and pointed at the automaton. Larry raised an artificial eyebrow.

“Larry Clockturn, you are under arrest for-”

Pete bonked the Detective on the head with his whiteboard.

“Ow. What? He’s wanted for hundreds of felonies.”

The elevator is still disabled. We need his help finding our way out, Pete wrote.

“Yeah, I know a different exit,” Larry muttered, but he nonetheless looked mildly annoyed when the group started following him.

They trailed behind the crime boss—well, ex-crime boss—hesitantly. “We still need to get Helios,” Isaiah mentioned. Before they reached the door, however, they heard the sound of metal scraping against metal. Larry turned back towards the platform.

Mary was clawing her way back up, her pearlescent façade burnt away by the lava, revealing her brassy gold casing. Patches of paint still clung to her, scorched black. She glanced back at Larry warily as she climbed high enough to jump back onto the pillar, then onto the mezzanine. The mobsters had already fled the control room, but she ran inside and disappeared from sight. Fury flared in Larry’s golden eyes as he barreled through the depot doors to pursue her.

Everyone ran out the doorway after him. They were back in the corridor with the disabled elevator, but Larry ran in a different direction.

“Where are you going?” Prince yelled. The automaton didn’t reply.

“There’s an old mineshaft leading to the surface in this direction,” Isaiah answered instead. “It’s always been sealed, but Mary must’ve opened it to escape. There’s no other way.”

They came upon the control room where Isaiah had left Helios, but Larry didn’t wait up as they pushed the doors open to find him.

“Helios, we have to…”

Isaiah trailed off. The room was empty.

“Helios?” the mobster called out. There was no reply. He tried contacting him with his radio, but the hacker didn’t respond to that either.

“We have to move before we lose Larry. Maybe Helios escaped already. Come on,” Bradley said as he ran back outside.

They caught up with Larry as he arrived at the gate to the mine. The blast doors were already open. Mary was on the other side of the decaying tunnel, hovering over Helios, watching him as he knelt in front of the keypad next to the elevator and desperately tried to crack the activation code. She seized the hacker in a chokehold and turned towards the group as she heard Larry’s heavy footsteps approaching.

“Come any closer and he dies!” Mary screeched at them. Larry didn’t seem too worried about that, but Bradley grabbed his arm to stop him from advancing.

“Let him go, Miss Gearwise. We just want to leave this place,” Bradley tried to reason.

Mary laughed, her eyes wide and manic. “Leave? You’re the ones who intruded upon my base in the first place. Slaughtered dozens of my agents. Do you know how much time I spent working on Larry? You brats have ruined everything,” she hissed as she tightened her grip around Helios’s throat. He scrabbled uselessly as her arm, eyes bulging as Mary crushed his windpipe.

Prince gritted his teeth. Mary’s words sent his thoughts racing. The gang of mobsters they’d encountered in the upper levels, even though there was no surveillance there. The door that had malfunctioned and trapped them. The lightning storm outside that had driven them here in the first place, even though the weather forecast had predicted clear skies. Mary’s weather machine…

“No. You lured us in here,” Prince murmured.

Mary narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?” she snapped.

“That’s why you knew we were here when the cameras were offline. You caused that storm outside. You took that tree down with your lightning. You had that barricade set up on the trail, so we’d come here for shelter,” Prince spoke louder. “You made the door short circuit with your lightning instead of shutting it remotely so we wouldn’t get suspicious… and rigged those pipes to blow and cut us off in the upper levels, so we’d walk right into those mobsters. You knew we were here the whole time. You set us up!” he finished, jabbing an accusing finger at Mary.

Mary’s lips slowly curved into a smirk as Prince spoke. “Clever boy.”

“Why?” he demanded.

“I needed someone to test my creation on, and you are the ones who deactivated Larry. I couldn’t leave you alive,” Mary stated. Helios wheezed for breath as she loosened her grip ever so slightly.

Bradley shook his head. “Rubbish. I know for a fact you never cared for Larry. It was the Headmaster who ordered their deaths, wasn’t it?”

Mary’s eyelid twitched at the mention of her superior. She ignored the Detective. “Larry, tell me the elevator’s code and I’ll let Helios go,” she said as she nodded at the dilapidated cage elevator and tightened her stranglehold on the young man.

Larry sneered and tried to press forward. Bradley held him back. The automaton’s gears clanked in frustration as he lifted his crowbar to beat the Detective away, but Isaiah elbowed his way to the forefront of the group before a fight could break out. “How about you think about someone other than your fucking self for once?” the mobster whispered harshly as he shook Larry’s shoulder. The automaton griped inaudibly and hardly budged as Isaiah jostled him, but he got the point.

“0625,” he begrudgingly told Mary.

Helios gasped for air as Mary finally removed one arm from his neck and punched the code into the keypad. The rusty elevator doors squealed as they parted. He tried to break away from her grasp, but he yelped as she grabbed the collar of his jacket and yanked him into the elevator after her. “Oh, no, you’re coming with me,” Mary muttered venomously.

“Hey! You said you’d let him go!” Prince yelled angrily from the other side of the tunnel.

Mary just flashed a grin at him and waved at him as the doors shut. The elevator creaked and rumbled up the mineshaft.

She was gone.

Epilogue

There was nothing to do except wait in morose silence for the elevator to return underground. Prince kept starting at the entrance to the mine, worried that some of Mary’s loyalists might show up, but none did.

The mood relaxed a little bit as Twado stood on his hindquarters and pawed Larry’s legs, whining for attention. He’d been too preoccupied to pay attention earlier, but now the automaton reached down and ruffled the fur on the dog’s head. “Glad to see you too, Twado.”

“He knows you?” Prince asked, surprised.

“He was my guard dog when I ran this place. But he looks like Mary had him thrown outside,” he muttered, shaking his head at Twado’s grubby coat.

The elevator doors squeaked open as the carriage arrived. Prince picked up Helios’s sunglasses from the floor. One of the lenses was cracked. He slipped them in his pocket as the elevator closed and started to carry everyone to the surface. Maybe he’d get to return them eventually if the hacker was still alive.

Isaiah went to sit on an old crate, but Larry pushed him aside. “Is that coal? Finally,” said the automaton as he ripped the lid off and shoved a handful of the stuff into his jaws. The kids watched with profound bewilderment.

“What? You didn’t think I was actually spring powered, did you?” he chuckled. The wind-up key on his back rotated ever so slightly. “This is just a kill switch. I have a steam engine.”

I thought your heart was your energy supply? wrote Pete.

There was a whoosh as the fuel caught aflame in Larry’s firebox. “It’s for emergencies. When I run out of real fuel.”

“It seemed like it was working fine before,” Prince remarked.

“You people ask too many damn questions.”

“No kidding,” Isaiah muttered.

Bradley answered instead. “The heart works too well. It will grind his gears to dust if he relies on it forever.” Larry scowled at him, but the Detective didn’t seem phased. “What are you going to do now?”

Larry was caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

“I thought you’d retake control of the base. Why didn’t you?” Bradley added.

The automaton laughed bitterly. “Give me a break. Do you have any idea what they’ve been doing to me down here? They can fuck themselves.”

“You’re just now realizing that? You were just fine with their shit before you were the one getting tortured,” Isaiah scoffed, but his temper dissolved into a sulk as soon as Larry shot him a look.

“OK, time for you guys to tell us what your problem is. You said you joined the mafia during the last purge,” Prince cut in, pointing a finger at Isaiah, “but you keep acting like you’ve been here a lot longer than that. What’s the deal?”

Neither Larry nor Isaiah answered, but Bradley looked back and forth between the two of them a few times. “Isaiah is your son?” he surmised.

Isaiah grimaced as the Detective said it. Larry punched the wall next to Bradley’s head, rocking the entire carriage and leaving a dent in the metal. Stephanie clung to Prince. Twado barked and scurried around as the lonely light bulb flickered and swayed on its wire above them. Bradley was looking pissed, but he didn’t retaliate—this was neither the time nor place for a fight, and Isaiah surely felt the same, because he walked between them and stared Larry down until he backed off.

“Guess that was a yes,” said Hadrian. Monica thumped him on the side of the head.

The mood was somehow even more sullen now. Larry had withdrawn to the corner of the elevator. He looked lost in his thoughts, but they couldn’t stay silent forever.

“What do we do?” Prince asked.

“I would call in a raid on this base right now, but we’d have to find some cell signal for that,” Bradley said.

“It’s not a good time,” Larry argued. “The next purge is in eight days.”

Hadrian groaned. “The next purge? You guys do that every year?”

“Shut it. I’m not finished. We need to get somewhere safe. You’re all in even more danger than last time if the Headmaster put a hit on you.”

That name again. “Who the hell is the Headmaster?” Prince questioned.

“He’s the one pulling the strings in all this. It was him who turned Larry and Mary into these,” Bradley responded, motioning to the automaton. “And those two aren’t the only ones who have been subjected to the procedure. I don’t suppose you were privy to his ultimate plans, were you?” he asked Larry.

Larry scowled at the question, but there was a hint of melancholy on his metallic features. “No, I wasn’t. But that’s not important right now. I know where a safehouse is,” he said as the elevator finally reached the surface. Everyone stepped out as the sun peeked over the horizon. The storm had died out into a light sprinkling of rain.

A couple of miscreants crouched in the dense trees and vegetation, concealed from view. One of them observed the new arrivals through his binoculars as they exited the carriage.

“Well, what do ya know?” said one of them.

“What? Luke, what do you see?”

“Mr. Clockturn made it out… but he looks to be defecting. What a shame, what a shame,” replied Luke, though he didn’t sound very saddened with that.

Brooke laughed. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. Are we gonna take him down or what?”

“Don’t be rash, Brooke. He’s not alone. The meddlers are with him, and there’s gonna be a better opportunity soon. The next purge is coming right up.” the boy said as he stood up. Brooke snatched his binoculars and took a look at the group for herself.

“Come on. Those shrimps have nothing! We can take them,” she protested.

Luke shook his head and started walking away. “No. Last thing we need is to blow our first major assignment.”

Brooke grumbled in discontent, but she acquiesced and followed her brother deeper into the woods.

“Fine. Let them think they’re safe… for now.”

#roblox break in #break in roblox #roblox #break in 2 #scary larry #scary mary #tw implied SA

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dark-falz · 2 years ago

Photo

I realized I wasn’t paying attention to spell check and “seperatre” is suppose to be “separate” but it’s too late for me to fix ok ok so the Algolian Seal is based of a Hexagram seal right ok we’re here. .....drawing this up was easy but explaining it will not be...I apologize for sloppiness in advance.

The rotating bits I think. So the entire seal itself rotates in use, but the highlighted parts rotate differently. In a seal, this would mean these are the roots for power/energy/magic to be created. The phrase “I wish it at an alliance from several years ago” can be considered an “invocation chant”. The planets are the natural (you could even say natal HEH) source of power this magic would take from, which is why they are also rotating.

Also note the planets with the rule of 3 in the seal. Yes there’s the 3 planets but looking across the seal those planets are in line with 2 more circles. This signifies the structure and how I came to the conclusion the Algolian seal is based off a Hexagram seal, as shown in the Lesser Key of Solomon. And now we know this is based of Abrahamic religions. However, when it comes to the general magic premise of Phantasy Star, I believe they took a more Hermetic approach to it based on the use of Zodiac symbols on Falz’s arena, the use of planets as power, mention of reincarnation in seals, and how they mention “Crowley” in PSP2I. (but we aren’t in that universe yet. Go ahead and google “Crowley” tho you’ll find him.) Hermetics also largely deal with Theurgy, which is what magic circles would be used in. (Theurgy is working with Divine through ritual, invocation or envocation, and can even get into possession. The ultimate goal in Theurgy is to unite with the Divine) But, alchemy is huge in Hermeticism, and I do feel there is a lack of alchemy references. Unless I’m missing them but I’ve been really going out of my way. It could be on a science level beyond my understanding, and relevant to Photon energy. Dr. Montague using corrupt Photon energy from monsters to make weapons is something I’ve considered, but I’d also like to know more about Dr. Osto and his experiments. There’s also, you know, the whole turning things into things using things which is a totally valid point but maybe I wanna know the how’s and why’s to that too ok.

Ok back to the seal right so Arabahamic religion ok so the Photon Blasts would be the Angels written in that middle circle. Specifically middle circle. The Angles in the middle circle indicate the time the seal was created, the date it was created, the time it will be used, the date it will be used, their “companies” (which I don’t fully understand yet) some other stuff, you get it now the Photon Blasts are Angels. I can’t say if the order here matters or not.Theurgy is also very prevalent in the Arabahamic religion, and Angels and Demons would fall under Theurgy.

The elements? O-oh yeh uh..I mostly threw those in there...They could have different placement. They could have something to do with the alchemy now that I think about it, but honestly when it comes to these magic circles, it seems the elements don’t have to be fire/air/wind/water related. The elements of the series are another thing I don’t have a great enough understanding of to speak about yet. Lets figure out Photon first.

“Great Light Power” would be the supreme god. The creator god. “GOD” god. And remember, “Light makes darkness. A pair exists, but it doesn’t always exist” And it SEEMS A LIIIITTLE BIT TO MEEE that Pioneer 1 & 2 might have created a pair with the power of “MUUT DITTS POUMN” the energy Falz was sealed with, and caused their own problems. OR! It could have been the rule of 3′s with counting the uses of “MUUT DITTS POUMN” in magic. There’s...5? sets of 3′s going on now? Angel numbers are a thing, there’s a wholeass divination method that uses numbers called “Numerology”. I nearly failed math because of dyslexia with numbers so if someone else wants to figure that out, amazing, cause I probably won’t :3 (I’d help tho :D) I also was pointed out how the pillars used to open the ruins share a symbol used in the original series, proving again the ruins was literally a spaceship used to seal Falz from the Algol star system. If its a reference to the Great Light Power I have no honest clue yet :)

Next thing I’ll be getting into is probably the seal for Falz’s arena leaning on the fact that the zodiac signs are the 4 heros, for now. (meaning I won’t be getting too into that lmao)

A few refrences I’d like to share are A forum where I found the original Phantasy Star refrences since idk shit about them atm (the lore here is juice) A Reddit post on the properties of Magic Circles

Because the rest of my information comes from books like the Magus and The Lesser Key of Solomon which I have on play books (Cause I’m impulsive!), a few books I have on Hermetic Magic that are less recent purchases, and the information I’ve gained on magic over nearly...20...years....I’m realizing and that feels really weird (I started meddling in books around age 10 and kept a Hermetic approach to magic until falling into a faith, maybe 4 or 5 years ago. I only realized those things about 2 years ago. I’ve been writing spells for at least 7 years now and it started with using the planets and zodiacs as sources of power. Ultimately, Yu-Gi-Oh, or specifically the Dark Magicians brought me to magic. So to put it bluntly without saying too much, after my realizations, now the main magic I attempt to replicate is “Heka.” If anything I research ties into Egypt AND IT DOES scratch the surface, I eat it the fuck up so this is a win-win for me you feel.

Also I’d like to note if I’m researching a magic that is specific to a religion other than my own, I feel its important for me to treat this information with respect. Some practices of Arabahamic religions are closed, meaning not for just anyone. (Another closed practice example would be Voodoo) Since Abrahamic religion has little to do with what I practice, I skim for relevant information only, meaning its easy for me to miss something. If I don’t know whether a religion is open or closed, I treat it like its closed. (I don’t want additional information anyway unless it says Egypt lmao)

Ok bye & I’d love to hear input on this or another take on it, or additional lore :)

#did i just write a book #pso lore #pso magic #if I learn how to do pso magic I'll compose u guys blessings #would that be weird #i'll do it to my roommate first to make sure its safe if you're worried #i won't be tho lol #I aint writing the algolian seal tho #i am the algolian seal fuck that #I do also have a crowley thoth tarot deck #its my favorite and i've had it for over 10 years #i got it before i knew he was a bad man #its still my favorite tho it can't be replaced lol #magic #lore

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orange-waterfalls · 4 years ago

Text

I Call This One: Bold & Brash!

The egos x artist! gn! reader

ty @pokemonpunqueen for the request!

A/N: I’ve decided that I’m gonna write for the egos when I can’t think of anything else or I need practice writing lmao. I mean I was doing that before? But I didn’t know it? listen it’s fine it’ll be fine but FOR NOW I thiiiink I’m gonna take requests. Just a few. I’ll stop when I think it gets too much. This is exactly what it says. I focused on like drawing/painting for “artist”, with some references to animation thrown in there. I did Darkiplier, Wilford, Yancy, Illinois, Google, Eric, and a Host thrown in there bc I love him and I miss him

Word count is 1.5k

Enjoy

Egos x artist!reader

Darkiplier

He’ll want to commission art from you

He makes comments about how Mark is a narcissist but also he’s a narcissist.

Oh look, Dark’s asking you for another picture. What does he want? He wants you to draw him? Again? For the fifth time this fucking month? Wonderful.

He likes looking at how you make art of him, be it stylistic or realistic

He will hang them up all over the fucking house so pace yourself

He’s fine if you draw anybody else

Except Mark. Never Mark. How can he tell, you ask? No fucking clue, but he does

Gets a bit worried that you won’t make enough money to live comfortably

Just because not everyone needs a fucking MANSION-

Will always buy things for you if you ask

Likes to be able to support your job or hobby

Sugar daddy? I mean maybe

Makes sure you eat, sleep, drink water, survive--

Leaves snacks for you at your desk for when you don’t want a meal.

Carries you to bed if you fall asleep at a desk

Recommends you wear comfy clothes at all times so you can fall asleep wherever

A bit of an enabler, he’s doing his best tho

If you take commissions don’t be surprised if he threatens to kill someone when they don’t pay or are rude to you

He loves you, that’s all

Wilford

Fucking elated

Draw him!!! Please!!!! Please draw him!!!!! He has coin!!!!! He can pay!!!!!

Ecstatic if you actually draw him like he’ll giggle for an hour straight just looking

Secretly commissions more art from you

So also sugar daddy

It’s always something so obvious so you know it’s him anyways

He likes bright colors and eyestrain for some reason

If you make that, he just. Stares at it. Unblinking. You have to snap him out of it (im not projecting what do you mean)

Gets extremely worried about you not taking care of yourself

Gets someone to fucking babysit you when he’s gone so you take care of yourself

When you get greatly offended by this he settles for texting you reminders

And when you ignore those he texts more

Don’t be surprised if you get spammed by several people and an alarm starts to play from somewhere in the house

You’re gonna be healthy whether you like it or not, asshole

Drags you to bed aggressively

He WILL NOT drug your food with melatonin because that’s illegal. B U T-

He’s a little confused, but he got the spirit

Will advertise your art to anyone and everyone and also on his show and threatens the audience with a gun

AGAIN, a little confused. he just wuvs u so much

Yancy

I mean technically he’s kind of an artist too so he appreciates your skill and creativity

He’s very nosy and likes to look over your shoulder while you work

If you don’t like him doing that, he still does it, just more secretively

Likes to work in the same room as you.

That is if you don’t mind constant singing or tap dancing in the background

He shows off your art to anyone and everyone and gets mad if they don’t immediately say it’s fantastic

May or may not have stabbed someone over it, you’ll never know

If you show him something you’re working on, he’ll show you something he’s working on in return

The law of equivalent exchange

You tell him you can make MONEY from things like art and dancing and he goes apeshit he gets so fucking excited

If you’re like an animator and offer to animate his dancing he might actually cry

He’ll deny it constantly every day until he dies

If you make things traditionally he hangs them on the wall Everywhere

You might run out of room

By which i mean you will run out of room as soon as possible

Will never tell you a drawing is bad ever unless it’s like Really Bad which it never will be in his eyes

He loves anything and everything you do u are so precious

You have a permanent support system within the man

Google

Used to see art as pointless

Then comprehended the chemical release it causes in the brain and thought that was fine

Then saw you get really mad with something you were working on and got confused again?

If art no make good chemical, why art?

He still doesn’t understand, but that’s ok

You tried to get him to make something once

He just. Kinda. Made a buncha ones and zeroes

You still framed it and hung in on the wall and he got embarrassed

If he could blush, he would

If you draw him he looks like he doesn’t care but it’s at that point he decides he would die for you

Primary objective: answer questions as quickly as possible. Secondary objective: make u happy. Tertiary objective is to destroy mankind

If you draw bing that will disappear IMMEDIATELY you have BETRAYED him

If you ask for a color palette recommendation he Always says the google colors. Always.

You might’ve thought he was going for an rgby type of thing. But then you realize.

He is in charge of your financing. He will tell you the most efficient ways to make money as an artist and you follow then

He is also in charge of making sure you FUCKING EAT A MEAL

“But isn’t an objective to destroy mankind?” shut up he’s not happy about it either

Despite his best efforts he loves you and that ain’t gonna change

Illinois

Doesn’t fully understand

He needs to be outside at all times and cannot stay in one place

And you’re like??? Required to stay still???? For prolonged amounts of time????? Disgusting. Anyway, whatcha workin’ on?

He might ask you to try and teach him

If you do try he gives up almost immediately

Sometimes you just get so into it that you forget to do basic things and he gets upset

(i.e. eating, sleeping, living, etc.)

He gets worried about you

He is a hypocrite bc he does the same

He will drag you to bed, motherfucker

Honestly he might lock your shit somewhere until you fucking take care of yourself. it’s like a hostage situation god

“Where the fuck did you put it” “I have no clue what you mean. I might know if you eat your dinner, though”

Asshole (affectionate)

Sometimes you like make faces when you try to draw a person and it’s hilarious and cute to him

He looks at your drawings the moment you walk away but acts like he doesn’t care

He cares a lot

Will support you no matter what but will also tell you without hesitation if he thinks something looks shit

Listen he’s out of line but he’s right

Eric

Loves you a lot and will support anything and everything you choose to do or make

Drawing? Awesome! Painting? Wonderful! Animation? Superb!

He often wants to buy you supplies or something but he does not know what anything is

Fuck is a chalk pencil???? What are gel pens vs normal pens?????? Watercolor????? What the fuck are you saying??????????

Will subtly drop hints that you could,,,, draw him,,,,, maybe,,,,, if u wanna

And by subtly I mean he starts to ask and then starts crying

If you draw him he will cry again he loves u so much

If he ever were to get a tattoo it’d be something u drew. Nothing else is as important to him at the moment

He enjoys photography and film, and likes to try and bond with you over artistic things

I mean. Some things overlap.

You could talk about a single drawing for hours and he’d listen intently the whole time

Don’t ask him for feedback, it’s always some version of “it’s perfect and I love you”

Even if he hates it

Which,,,,, he might hate it sometimes

He’s not a good reviewer. 2/10, very biased

He likes to take photos when you’re in the zone

If you tell him to delete them he will

While secretly making one his home screen

Host

Hey, he gets it

He writes, he understands the hyperfocus

Sometimes he wouldn’t move from his chair for a day because he was busy writing a script

That being said, you probably have to be the one to get him to take care of himself

Or you have to take turns

Otherwise you’re both gonna fucking die

He asks you to describe your art to him and tries to picture it.

He’ll tell you if he thinks it probably looks good or bad

You shouldn’t take it to heart because he can’t see it

He is a bastard sometimes

“Well, what do you think?” “I think it looks fantastic” “Thanks, babe” “...” “... you think you’re fucking funny, don’t you”

He asks if you can draw him sometimes

No, he won’t see it, but he’ll appreciate the sentiment if you do

He will ask for your opinion on his scripts sometimes

If you say it’s bad he gets really defensive

You work in the same room a lot of the time and forget the other is there

One of you has to preemptively order food or like set a timer so you can goddamn Survive

You’ll be fine

#markiplier egos x reader #darkiplier x reader #wilford warfstache x reader #yancy x reader #illinois x reader #googleplier x reader #eric derekson x reader #eric derickson x reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #darkiplier x gn reader #wilford x reader #wilford warfstache x gn reader #yancy x gn reader #illinois x gn reader #googleplier x gn reader #eric derekson x gn reader #i'll be honest i only thought about this bc i saw mark's fucking VIDEO on tiktok and got kind of excited

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egoludes · 4 years ago

Text

satisfaction guaranteed.

summary: your super soldiers hear there’s a new contender in the bedroom; they intend to learn all about it.

pairing: stucky x reader.

notes: ok, i’ll admit it - this is so outrageously self-indulgent and fully inspired by a recent, um, purchase. i was hoping to get it out in time for valentine’s day, but then work kicked my ass - so consider it a delayed love letter to y’all heh. my apologies in advance to the manufacturers of the sex toy featured here; please don’t sue me? borders from deathlyrph!

warnings: nsfw / 18+, threesome, sex toy, implied & light overstimulation

He doesn’t mean to listen in - scout’s honor.

There just isn’t much that Bucky’s super soldier hearing misses and the raving of some very giddy --- and very drunk --- Avengers is nowhere near that list. He’s actually pleased to hear the way you, Natasha, and Wanda are carrying on when he rounds the corner. Missions have been taking a toll lately, keeping everyone on the team on edge and up late. You, in particular, have been distant, putting on a facade that never quite reaches your eyes, and he and Steve have been on wit’s end trying to perk you up.

The ladies, it seems, have it all figured out. You’re laughing freely for the first time in weeks, and Bucky’s grateful that no one (particularly Sam) can see the way the sound makes him utterly lovesick. His adoration keeps him still a few seconds longer, basking in how free you seem, but he doesn’t intend to stay much past that. In fact, he’s a half-step into leaving when he hears it:

“So, wait -- have you tried it yet? The Satisfyer?”

Confusion brings him to a full stop. Satisfyer?

That feeling only grows, knitting his eyebrows, when you’re the one to answer with an emphatic, and damn near dreamy “Yes.”

Bucky’s an intelligent man and the name alone is a pretty effective context clue. Still, he doesn’t really put it together until Wanda squeals and Nat (who he can see in his mind’s eye, clear as day, leaning into you with that cheeky smirk) pushes you for more.

“It’s kind of...overwhelming,” you continue, pausing to refill your glass, “but in the best way. Like in a ‘How did I ever masturbate before this’ kind of way. My knees literally buckled when I got up after. Can you believe that? Buckled! I was fuckin’ woozy! ” He can tell you’re animated just by the way your volume starts to rise and whatever you’re doing must be endearing because even Natasha is chuckling.

Bucky still loves it, don’t get him wrong. In fact, he adores you excited like this, especially after all the darkness lately. But, there’s something genuinely puzzling about so much excitement around a sex toy. He hadn’t even known you’d bought something new. When had you tried it? Where were he and Steve?

His thoughts start to swirl, intrigue and curiosity mounting in a wave that he pushes past with a step, then another, as he reminds himself that he has somewhere to be.

No chance he’ll be forgetting about this, though.

Steve hears about it from Bucky.

Secondhand stories can be tricky; full of exaggerations and misunderstanding. But, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe it. He just doesn’t comprehend the implications of it until he experiences it for himself.

That happens on a Saturday afternoon.

You’d been tense in training, taking hits you’ve dodged a thousand times and fumbling moves you’ve done twice that. A bad bout typically doesn’t do you in, but Steve can tell by the way your attacks grow more and more stilted, that you’re overextending just to make blows meet.

It gets so bad that he breaks one of his few cardinal rules -- never pulling rank with you or Bucky outside of missions -- to get you out of the spar, and your frustration with it is as clear as the exhaustion that sags your limbs. You’re out the door before he can apologize, or explain.

An hour later, he’s showered and changed, seeking you out in your corner of the compound with peace offerings at the ready. This time, they come in the form of your favorite snack and a promise to spar with you himself the next time you’re scheduled - no holds barred.

But, when you pull open the door at his knock, he’s surprised to see that he may not need them.

You’re completely...sated. The tension you’d had in your shoulders when you left the gym is nowhere to be found and in its place is a sheen of satisfaction. It’s all over you: in a dopey smile, lidded eyes, and the faint whiff of your cunt he gets when he leans into you.

In an instant, he puts two and two together, and Steve feels his body warm at the realization that you’ve just finished touching yourself. And not just that: it had been so good that your entire mood’s flipped and you’re beaming at him, no walls or reservations.

He makes his apology all the same, though, and your smile widens as you reach for him and the snack in a tease: “Better not back out on that fight, Captain.”

He grins back, pleased you’re feeling better, but making a mental note to speak to Bucky as soon as you let him go.

I think we need to check out this ‘Satisfyer’.

They ask you about it on Valentine’s Day.

You’re running on the high of a beautiful evening: dinner in DUMBO and drinks in Brooklyn Heights. The latter -- a couple cocktails for you, white wine for your boys -- finds you buzzing as you let them into your room back at the compound. You feel eyes on your hips from behind, heavy gazes that sear the curves, and you sway pointedly, smiling at the sharp breaths that follow.

You know where the night is going ---- know the way a good date makes them handsy. So the attention is no surprise. Neither is the cool press of metal to your back and the kiss to that spot under your ear. “Bed, pretty girl,” Bucky drawls against your skin, intent pressing -- and growing -- against your hip as he settles against you.

Steve rounds you from the other side, not touching but so close you can feel the rise of heat from his body. You look up just in time to catch him watching you back, blue eyes darkening with each step into your bedroom.

Your dress is easy work, pooling at your ankles with a few good pulls, But, Steve and Bucky take their time with everything else. You’re in something special, after all --- pretty lace and dewey colors that deserve an extra look, an extra touch. They’re on you the moment it’s revealed to them, thumbing the fabric with murmured praise through the lips all over your skin.

The daze it sets follows you all the way to the mattress where you lay back against Steve’s chest (still clothed, to your chagrin) with his arms settled around you. His hands end up bracing your thighs, naturally at first, then deliberately as Bucky starts to kiss trails up and over your calf. With the latest string of missions, you can’t remember the last time you had their mouths on you and the anticipation as Bucky’s creeps closer is almost crippling. Your body tenses with each point of contact, eyes lidding as they watch him rise, inch by tortuous inch.

“Sweetheart.” Steve’s voice pulls you out of your focus with a rumble you can feel in your back. “We wanna try something new with you tonight.” You turn just enough to watch him, answering with a hum to urge him on. “Can you tell Buck,” he continues, dipping to run his nose along yours. You feel tiny when he bears down on you like this, and he can see the way it affects you just in the flutter of your lashes. “--where you keep your ‘Satisfyer’?”

What?

In a split second, you’re sobered up, no hint of the lust or buzz that’d been following you for most of the night. Bringing toys to bed isn’t new by any means, but they have never, ever referred to one by name like that. Nor requested it specifically. It’s so startling that you don’t know what to say for a moment, mind utterly blank until you feel Bucky’s hand tighten around your thigh to bring you back. “You -- my what?”

“Satisfyer,” Steve echoes, hand resting on your tummy. From below, you can feel Bucky’s eyes burning into the side of your face, expectant. “Buck’s heard you mention it before, and we’d like to know what all the fuss is about. ---- If you’re willing, that is.”

You look back and forth between them, mouth gaping for a second before you swallow your shock down whole. Two super soldiers can be a lot to manage on their own -- adding a toy that’s knocked you on your ass a few times over now seems like a very dangerous game. But, you can feel Steve hardening against your back and can’t deny the slick that’s seeping through your panties at the thought alone. So you nod, lip pulled between your teeth, and direct Bucky to the left side of your bottom drawer.

When he’s back between your legs, it’s with the rose gold toy in hand. The mere sight of it makes you clench; something he doesn’t miss when he’s that close to your core. “Someone’s excited,” Bucky muses, brow arching before his gaze returns to his hand. The Satisfyer is unlike any toy he’s ever seen, shaped more like some alien gadget than a vibrator, and no amount of Google sleuthing could’ve prepared him for what it feels like in person. The smoothness of it in his hand, the unique curves along his palm. You bite back a giggle at how intently he inspects it, turning it over this way and that to get used to its weight.

“Hmm.. that’s definitely different,” Steve chimes in, as focused on the toy as Bucky is. It isn’t hard to work out how it’s used from the design alone, but what they’re still itching to know is what it does. How it unravels you so well, until your knees buckle even. And it doesn’t take long for that anticipation to trump their curiosity and you’re brought back to the moment when Steve ducks his head to your shoulder, pressing kisses to the skin there as he smooths hands down your inner thighs. He draws his palms back and forth a few times until they suddenly still, and he’s holding your legs -- and you -- wide open. “How about we give it a go, pal?”

Bucky says nothing in return, but he probably doesn’t have to. The toy clicking to life is enough, a rhythm that fills the room with anticipation. Your tummy tightens at the sound -- another reaction neither man misses -- and the tension stays put, coiled tight until the Satisfyer closes over your clit.

The first pulse knocks air out of you that you hadn’t realized you were holding. The ones that follow unfurl you, melting your anticipation in favor of a soft, thrumming pleasure that coats you head to toe. It’s odd, having someone else use it on you, but in a good way. The best way.

You surrender to it, relaxing into Steve’s hold as Bucky holds you open with two fingers. So far, that’s no different than normal --- you’re always this pliant for them, putty beneath their fingers once they get to work. But, tonight, they’re greedy. Tonight, they want more from you; want whatever this toy has been able to draw out in their absence.

Bucky kicks things up a notch, turning the pulse up two speeds. The change is subtle to them, clicks coming just a smidgen faster and louder. For you, it seems to make all the difference. Immediately, you react, back arching up from its place against Steve’s chest with a sound that makes the Captain purr behind you.

“Mm...must feel good,” he notes, a hand gliding along your tummy until he can palm your breast. “Can you tell us, sweetheart?” He punctuates the question with fingers around your nipple, tweaking lightly.

Your lips part, but no words follow; not at first. It’s like your body and mind are disconnected, static in the places where they usually go together. The fuzziness is welcome, but hard to speak through, and it’s all you can do just to whine when Steve gives your nipple an urgent pinch. Bucky joins in with a cool finger pressing at your cunt, the light whirring from his arm giving you something concrete enough to focus on. ‘S good,” you finally pant, twisting to tuck your head into Steve, “so good.”

Bucky huffs out a chuckle and your entire body goes tight; with his face so close, you can feel every breath. “That mean you’re gonna let us finish you up, just like this?”

It’s a rhetorical question --- has to be, the way he presses the toy tighter to your clit. Still, you answer with an eager nod, legs widening some as if to give him the go ahead. “Please, Buck, ‘m close already, it -- right there, I-I’ll--” Your pleas are pretty, a desperate melody, and they appease every base instinct Bucky has. He’d wanted to keep you on edge a little longer to explore the toy more, but he’s a sucker for his girl; always has been. You win him over without even trying.

Steve isn’t far behind, cock leaking in his dress pants seeing you so desperate. He hasn’t gotten his hand on the toy yet, but even he seems to feel its effect. The hand that isn’t cupping your breast spreads over your tummy, delighting in the way the flesh underneath tightens and spreads. You’re certainly close --- he knows your body as well as you do. And the thought of it makes him hungry, makes him press teeth into the skin behind your ear as he urges you on: “Go on, honey -- make a mess for us.”

Your peak comes fast after that, punching you in the gut with its intensity. The first wave of orgasm runs right through you, leaving a tremble in its wake, and your hips twist instinctively to escape the toy. Bucky, however, isn’t so forgiving, metal curling around your hip in a vice. Ride it out, he seems to say with a dark, lidded glance from between your legs.

You whimper in response, head tipping back against Steve’s chest as you fumble for purchase in the warmth of Bucky’s free hand.

Something tells you this will be a long night.

Forty minutes later, you can’t see straight.

Your first orgasm had been gradual, as tentative as the men watching this new toy work you. But, after that, it’s like a flip switches in Bucky and Steve, making them greedy for as many more as they can get.

The second one isn’t long after the first. Bucky turns the Satisfyer up to the highest setting, the other end of the spectrum that you hadn’t even gotten a chance to try on your own yet. The first contact lights fire through your sensitive body and you’re on the brink in just minutes. Toes stretching and curling into the sheets by Bucky’s hips, you’re practically squirming with need and it only takes one good twist of the toy for you to crumble all over again. They give you a break after that, but most of it is spent kissing you too long for you to catch your breath.

You don’t mind that too much, though.

The third orgasm is Steve’s fault. Ever the strategist, he starts thinking through the ways they can play with frequency and angle to make you cum again. You don’t notice it in your foggy comedown, but he’s fished his phone out and flicked through to a page he’s looked over more times that he cares to admit. And when Bucky settles between your legs to get you going again, he finally speaks up. “Buck, I found this review online---” Both you and Bucky turn to him, curiosity in the way you gape, but he’s making a face back that’s loud and clear: ‘do not ask’. “---that said they were able to cum in a couple minutes with this alone. Had some interestin’ suggestions about how, too.” He grins around a Brooklyn drawl, that handsome face stirring something in you when it looks so devious. “You think we can get our girl finished faster than that?”

They pull it off -- embarrassingly easily at that -- and it’s in the pale of that third climax that they finally, finally press inside you.

Your cunt is soaked, supple and warm around Steve as he sits you down over his cock. After so much play, the stretch is nothing, a pleasant burn in the pit of your belly that makes your eyes flutter closed.

“Tell us how you feel,” Steve asks for the second time that night, his voice strained around the effort to keep from fucking you. Even if you’re taking him well -- easier than ever before, in fact -- he’s cautious not to lose his head, no matter how much he wants to.

No matter how much the urge to plow you into your mattress dizzies him.

Your eyes are still closed when you respond, tongue over your dry lips as you part them with a needy sound. “S-Still good…,” you sigh, mind swimming. You want to move, start to move in a mindless search for some friction. But, the rocking doesn’t last long, stuttering to a stop when you hear the toy click to life and try to focus through the haze of your pleasure with eyes darting for answers.

You find them in the smug grin on Bucky’s face as he palms the Satisfyer in one hand and works his cock out of his pants with the other. “What,” he purrs, voice lilted in a taunt, “you didn’t think we were done with this yet, did you?”

Oh yeah --- this’ll definitely be a long night.

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut #tags will come after work!

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lilblueorchid · 4 years ago

Photo

Thought process and easter egg on the Digimon Anniversary Illustration!

Hello everyone, today I feel like explaining some stuff over my Digimon Illustration, mostly why I drew thing this way or point out some little details and easter eggs you might have missed. ;)

Click on read more if you want a LENGTHLY explanation with a lot of rambling from me, or if not you can just enjoy the process gif. <3

The Digimon illustration was a special one for me for different reasons. Firstly, obviously, Digimon! It was a show I grew up with, and I find it quite fitting that after a tough year of graduation movie under a pandemic, in which I really experienced the pain of growing up, I ended up finding back Digimon.

Secondly, as a child, I remember spending HOURS looking for fanarts online! I would save all the ones I found pretty and keep them preciously, i still have the folders actually haha. While pursuing art, I always had in mind thatI wanted one day to make a fanart my child self would have gone crazy over! And, i think I achieved that with that one haha.

Anyway LET’S START! Shall we?

First off : the illustration process

When I do an illustration I always do a quick draft first, and most of the time, in colors. I think I’m more of a “color” person than a “line” person, I tend to need to see colors quickly in order to see if it’s ok.

For this one, I’ve always had in mind it would be a double illustration, with the older Tai’s silhouette acting as a frame for the children illustration. It was a bit tricky, I had to make the children illustration fit nicely into his silhouette, it was hassle around the neck area, that’s why I made little Taichi stand up haha. Also used Mimi’s hat to balance the picture : the bottom part is very heavy and there’s only sky in the upper part, adding the hat helps making it more balanced.

The character were the longest and the most challenging part by far. As you can see I had 3 different steps : super rough, they’re almost like stickmen and smiley face, a more detailled one in which I figure out their actual pose and anatomy, then a last one in which I fix some proportion, add details and clean. Fun fact I don’t clean over a new layer... i just erase the unwanted part of my sketch. :’D

I did a quick pass over the BG after that, then I colored the characters in flat colors before rendering them. It was a back and forth between the BG and the characters to make sure everything was working together nicely.

Now was the time to render the BG, I did the tramway first, the flower field after. Fun fact, I did my flower field study in order to know how to approach the flowers in this illustration! If your have the time, i totally recommend finding a photograph close to the kind of BG you wanna do, and make a study of it so you can try your hand at it first and go into your own BG later with an idea of how to approach this.

Adjust colors, add flower petals and butterflies and emotional text, slap over a paper texture, and THERE. You have it! On to the next part now...

The meaningful details and easter eggs

Be aware there will be spoilers for Digimon Adventure 01 (but I assume you already know it), but also for Digimon Adventure : Last evolution Kizuna, which is the conclusion of the first serie. So read at your own risk!

The tramway is obviously a reference to the end of Digimon Adventure 01. The kids used it to go back to their world, so It was their goodbye to their Digimon at this moment. In Kizuna, Tai and Matt find the tramway trapped in crystal in Menoa’s fake memory world. Hinting that had they been caught by her, their memories would have brought them back here.

Tailmon has Kari’s whistle! At the end of Digimon Adventure 01, Kari gives it to her as a memento.

When I drew Sora, I had in mind how she was in Kizuna, very stressed out by her mom’s expectation, which led her to neglect Piyomon. She realized it too late, and after that she refused to fight because she wanted to keep Piyomon with her as long as possible. Tragically, she was the first one to lose her Digimon. Here I tried to convey a softness and a kind of “I won’t forget to appreciate you” vibe in the way she holds Piyomon’s hand. As for Mimi and Palmon, in Digimon adventure 01 Palmon was very emotionally affected by Mimi’s departure, so, a hug was fitting. :’)

The screens on the Tramway display DA for Digimon Adventure, and also 01.08.1999 which is the date of the children’s journey’s beginning. :)

The little drawings also show the 8 crests.

There are butterflies flying over the illustration, it’s a reference to Butter-fly, the first Digimon opening, by the late Koji Wada.

"I'll become a happy butterfly, and ride on the glittering wind, I'll come and see you soon. “

Now, let’s the see the counterpart of the illustration. The one with the grown up Tai from Kizuna.

I made him wear the hoodie he had in his very last adventure with Agumon.... but truthfully the reason is that I think hoodies are cool lol. And the hood’s volume gave me more space in the silhouette, which made it easier for me to do the other illustration inside.

You don’t see it clearly, but he is holding his Digivice, albeit the darkened version once his partner bond with Agumon is broken. The Tai in this illustration has already lost Agumon. (Yes it was painful for me to go fetch the screenshots)

He is also holding his dear signature google he used to wear as a child. Fun fact, I rewatched the older movies, and as a kid he even used to sleep with it, how cute haha.

Also yes, the crest of Courage over his hand, which is his own. I’m so dumb I realize I should have made the time counter from the movie instead of the crest for a maximum emotional hurt impact.

And the quote is from one of the trailer for Kizuna, I think.....................

But then you go : Oh that illustration is so depressing then! Well. Yes. But no. but yes. But not really.

One of my favorite shot of the movie is this one : this is after Tai and Agumon learn their time together is limited. Agumon asks him if they will have to go separate ways once Tai is all grown up. Tai doesn’t answer, and takes him to eat something instead, as Agumon was hungry. In this shot Agumon eats to his heart content next to Tai, who’s not eating at all and just watches him fondly. I love that the framing doesnt show agumon. It’s a foreshadowing of their unavoidable separation.

At the very end of the movie, Tai write in his thesis about Human and Digimon’s relationship that Agumon was like a part of himself.

In a way, Agumon symbolizes childhood, the carefree days we would spend as a kid, with our big dreams and hopes. When you grow up, you tend to forget those simple emotions because you get swallowed into the stress of studies, figuring out your carreer, your life path. Just like us, Tai forgot this part of himself. In the madness of growing up, he lost Agumon.

However, it’s not the end. He will pick himself back up. He will move forward in life despite his worries and incertainities, and he will find himself again. Therefore, he will find Agumon again. The kids in the illustration are waving goodbye, but it’s not goodbye, it’s a see you later. In the meantime, Tai is holding on to these precious memories, until they meet again.

#Digimon #Digimon adventure #Yagami Taichi #Digimon adventure : last evolution kizuna #illustration process #kinda analysis #listen im actually writing this for myself #I spend 4 days on that illu with a lot of feels and I need to write them down #This is basically what my close friends have to endure each time I get an obsession

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duskamethyst · 4 years ago

Text

playing with fire.

a/n: sooo this is my take on the racer!AU. i’ve spent some time watching movies about car racing to get a grasp on the whole scene so i hope i executed this well enough. i also used some terms that are related to cars and wtv, so you can google if you're curious.

word count: 3.8k

genre: smut, nsfw, mature, quirkless AU

warnings: illegal street racing

pairing: racer!keigo x f!reader

summary: keigo is notorious for being the king of speed and drifting in car races and you’ve caught his attention since the first night you joined as a line girl. although keigo has his eyes on you for a while now, he realizes that he might’ve missed a few things about you. and well, surprises aren’t exactly bad.. right?

keigo loves speed. he loves the adrenaline pumping in his veins.

and what better way can he express his love for it?

cars. races.

keigo is a force to be reckoned with. he grew to be infamous for his incredible skills and talent in the scene and because of that, he also became the main target for the cops.

however, he’s not aiming for anything in particular. yet he doesn’t mind the prizes that come with it either; recognition, money, women.

and boy, how he can easily get anyone wrapped around his finger.

but one thing he’s irritated about is how you’ve never paid him any attention. he got some killer looks, has won so many races, fucking loaded with money and he’s pretty confident about his size too (you can ask the other girls if you need reference, by the way).

what more does he need to entertain you?

keigo gets excited when you’re filling the role of the line girl for his races on certain nights. he knows that it’s the best opportunity to show you what he’s made of and he wants you to know that you shouldn’t be taking him so lightly.

the starting line is crowded with car enthusiasts, boys and girls alike– gathered for their love towards expensive sport cars, the sound of roaring engines, the thrill of watching and betting between two racers. the roads on the city outskirts has been put into lockdown by the responsible crews to avoid disruptions from other vehicles or bystanders.

keigo pulls up to the arena with his red nissan a few minutes early, not wanting to be late especially because he's the main star for tonight. his avid followers would already be there before him and instantly swarm around his loud car to cheer him on, wish him luck and maybe give him some kisses on his cheeks too.

as he’s chatting with the people around him, his golden eyes wander around from time to time to catch a glimpse of you in the arena. his eyes narrow when he finally sees you standing and talking by the window of his rival’s car.

he wishes he could hear what you’re talking about that makes you all smiles and giggles while all he has ever gotten is the cold shoulder. keigo leans on his car, arms folded across his chest as he watches you from afar. he can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes when he notices you kissing the guy’s cheek before you walk away and strut in his direction to get across the other end.

a playful smirk tugs on the corners of his lips by reflex as he watches you come nearer, the noises of the engines and chatters around him are quick to become white noises. yet, you only spare him a glance.

“hey,” you stop in your tracks and turn once you realize that he’s trying to talk to you and his lips curl into a lopsided smile as he smizes you with his golden eyes. “i’m keigo.”

you look at his extended hand peculiarly before shaking it firmly. “yeah, don’t humble yourself. all people here know you.”

“oh?” he raises a brow in amusement. “i’m just saying because you’re kinda new here.”

you smile, “already keeping tabs on me, keigo?”

“how could i not?” he chuckles. “always gotta keep you in my sight.”

“right,” you scoff. “what if i say that i’m taken and he’s my boyfriend?” you tilt your head to the side to point at the guy you spoke to earlier.

keigo inhales through gritted teeth, feigning a pained and offended expression on his face. “then you have a bad taste in men.”

“ha-ha,” you roll your eyes, pretending not to be amused by him yet he can see the small smile on your lips. “race is starting soon, you should get in your car.”

“don’t you wanna kiss me good luck?” keigo stares at your ass as you turn to walk away but he quickly shifts his gaze to your face once you turn to look at him.

“i don’t think you’re the type that believes in luck.” you flash a sarcastic smile before striding off towards the front center of the track.

two race cars come forward before the red line that was freshly sprayed just a few minutes prior. keigo watches you as he revs his engine, sending a flirtatious wink when your eyes meet.

ignoring him, you raise both arms in the air, glancing between the two males who now have intense glares on the road ahead as they grip their steering wheels and gears firmly.

“ready! set!” you shout through the revving engines and the cheers from the mob. “go!”

the moment you draw your hands down, both vehicles instantly speed off and emit white smoke from the friction of tires on the asphalt. when you spin around, you can vividly see that keigo is the one eating dust.

keigo is calm and focused. like a hawk soaring in the blue sky, he keeps his prey within his vicinity before he waits for the right moment to pounce. he loves to chase– purposely letting his opponent get swept by their own overconfidence before he severely crushes down their will by swiftly changing the lead. some wouldn’t take the risk, but keigo absolutely loves the devastated look on their faces when he veers beside them by surprise.

any regular racers would be familiar with the track by now. he presses the clutch as he changes necessary gears while the mph meter increases gradually as his right foot presses down the accelerator continuously. keigo skillfully speeds through tunnels and every sharp corner until his bumper eventually lightly hits the race car in front of him, making the two of them neck-to-neck.

however, the car in front of him keeps on shifting side by side in an attempt to stop him from getting the chance to overtake. despite the adrenaline pumping in his veins, keigo is patient. he’s aware of the corner ahead where people usually make the same mistake and that’s where he finds the opening to strike.

approaching the said corner, keigo has expected that the other car would make a wide angled drift thus with his own dexterity, he maintains perfect control as he drifts through the entire corner.

“hah, bastard.” he snickers, glancing at his side mirror to see the other car struggles to catch up from the poor oversteering.

keigo steps on the gas harder before he activates the nitrous oxide and boosts his ride until the finish line; easily completing the whole lap with the other car just a decent gap behind.

his ears are ringing with cheers as steps out from the car as people instantly flock around him to express their praises for his victory. keigo notices you weaving your way through the crowd to reach him and a triumphant smirk curls on his lips.

“i’m not surprised.” you say, voice lacing in sheer amusement.

“yeah, but you’re the big prize for me tonight.” he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer, ignoring the people around him.

“i wasn’t a part of the bet.” you chide.

keigo smiles at you endearingly before he gaze trails far in the distance. “we gotta run.”

as if on cue, the most hated and startling siren echoes through the street. everyone quickly scatters to their cars and drives off while you get inside keigo’s car with him. he wastes no time and speeds off before one patrol car chases after him.

“hold on, baby.” he swerves through corners, changing gears as he presses the gas harder to try and get the police off his tail. “one more corner will shake him off.”

keigo expects you to be frantic but he is caught off guard when he realizes that you’ve opened the window and stuck your upper body out of the car window.

“what are you–”

you lift up your shirt and flash your tits at the cops behind you, “fuck you!”

a look of shock is apparent on his face but then he laughs to himself, thinking that he’s seeing you as you actually are, even for a brief second, and not the cold façade you’ve always shown him.

you get back in and sink in your seat just before keigo makes it to the last corner, giving him a chance to widen the gap between him and the car behind him before he quickly brakes at a dark, quiet alley.

“think we lost them.” he peeks through the rear view mirror to see the patrol car passing and missing the alley you both are hiding. “let's wait for a few minutes before i take you home.”

the both of you stay in the car for a few moments, making sure that there are no more cops patrolling the roads before he starts to drive off to your house. keigo doesn’t know why but he suddenly finds himself to be rather nervous now that you’re alone with him. he chooses not to make you uncomfortable so he geeks about his car instead and talks about which car he’d like to own next and gives his own elaboration why he adores it in the form of horsepower, engine and all the shit that you’re probably not too familiar with.

now he feels like an idiot.

keigo hits the brake once you tell him to stop in front of your apartment and he’s a bit upset that the journey ended quicker than he thought.

“thanks for the ride, keigo.” you say before opening the door and step out.

“sure thing. sorry if i talked too much.” he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment.

but he feels relieved and his confidence flows within him when he hears you laugh. “it’s fine. you did rather.. well.”

“you’re not too bad yourself,” he grins, knowing that you’re not talking about the race he won. “flashing your tits like that. you’re full of surprises.”

you close the door and lean down to the open window, “and i assume you’d like to know what i have up my sleeves?”

“i’m taking you out after my next win.” he snickers, honey orbs glinting with overflown confidence and mischief.

“only if i get to drive.” you smile cheekily, leaving him stunned before a cocky smirk etches on his lips.

“bet.”

it has been two weeks since keigo last saw you and tonight is another night that you’re filling in as the flagger. he’s uncharacteristically super pumped for his race tonight, coming with extra determination to absolutely annihilate the race since he can’t wait for the biggest prize that awaits him.

he watches as you stand in the middle of the starting line, not missing the wink you give him before you glance at the other male to see if both contenders are ready. both cars rev their engines as they wait for your signal. this time, keigo immediately accelerates with incredible speed and smokes the other, not offering the slightest chance for his opponent to take the lead.

the battle takes place in the parking lot tonight– from the basement until the rooftop. keigo is notorious for his drifting skills so he’s able to ascend to each floor without breaking a sweat, oversteering through every spiral ramp that eventually leads to the rooftop.

sounds of screeching tires can be heard from the wire. the winner is already expected by the crowd, yet they all stay and wait at the finish line to welcome the first car to arrive. sooner than later, keigo’s car is the first one to appear and the mob instantly runs over to him while the other arrives seconds later with some ugly dents and scratches on their car.

“you really didn’t hold back, huh?” you chaff, resting your arms on top of his shoulders before he pulls you into an embrace.

“i just couldn’t wait to take my prize back home.” he whispers in your ear, just audible for the two of you but before he can take the chance to kiss you, you pull away.

“come on, playboy. let’s take a drive.” you quickly jump into the driver’s seat and rev his engine. as he’s about to open the other door, you intentionally step on the gas to make the car move forward.

“you can do it.” you laugh, moving the car forward again when he tries to open the door.

“not funny, kid.” keigo looks at you in annoyance before quickly opening the door and sitting beside you.

“i’m just teasing you.”

keigo rolls his eyes and sighs, “okay, go slowly when we’re going down the ramps.”

he guides you the whole way down, reminding you to be careful of the corners and to keep watch on both side mirrors as you drive down until you’ve successfully reached the exit of the building and onto the main road.

“that’s good. i guess you know how the clutches work now. so when you want to drive faster, you should– holy shit!”

you immediately accelerate and skillfully shift gears as you drive through town. keigo on the other hand, quickly wears his seatbelt and holds onto his seat in fear for the whole ride. it must be the terrified look on his face because he can hear you laugh like a maniac as you drive even faster.

“fuck! slow it down, kid!” he yells, staring widely at the road in front him to make sure you’re not crashing his car to any poles or other vehicles.

keigo swears that his soul has already flown out of his body but luckily you both have made it in front of your apartment unscathed. he has no idea how, but he’s fucking glad the car has stopped.

“that was fun!” you chirp and turn off the engine.

“n-never again.” he stammers and quickly finds solace by stepping on the ground, thanking the lords that he still has the chance to see another day.

“get a grip, keigo. you’re lucky i didn’t use nos.”

you get out of the car and hand him his keys before leading him inside your complex.

“i wanted to drive to your place but you were busy screaming when i asked you where you live.” you purposely pick on him, remembering how he couldn’t utter cohesive words except for ‘watch out!’, ‘holy shit!’ and some other things of those sorts.

“shut up.” he pinches your arm.

“but my place is okay too, right?” you smile sweetly as you open your door and pull him inside. you both quickly take off your shoes and keigo’s arms easily wrap around your waist to pull you close.

“if here’s where you want to show me the tricks you have up your sleeves, why not?”

“but you didn’t seem too entertained with my surprise earlier.” you pout innocently, leading him towards your bedroom.

“i appreciate it.”

keigo crashes his lips onto yours and pushes both bodies back down on your bed. he quickly takes off his leather jacket along with his shirt and throws it to the floor before his hands roam around your body while your hands run through his fluffy blonde hair.

you moan into the kiss when you feel his erection grinding against your pussy and he breaks away to pepper kisses down your neck. keigo takes off your shirt and unclasps your bra before he latches his mouth on one of your hardened nipples and tweaks the other between his fingers.

“you’re so impatient,” he mumbles, pressing down your clit through the damped panties. “you’re so wet and i barely touched you.”

“stop it, keigo.” you whine breathlessly, rubbing the bud against his finger shamelessly to relief the dull ache.

“hm? i’m just teasing you.” he mocks. “can’t take it?”

“you’re an ass.” you bite back playfully, making the male chuckle with mirth.

keigo takes off your skirt and pulls down your panties, smearing his thumb with your slick through your puffy folds and revels over how warm and drenched you are.

“fuck.” he hisses as he watches you squirm from his touch. “what do you want me to do to you, babe?”

you nibble your lips anticipatingly, “hmm, show me how fast you are in bed.”

his eyes twinkle with pleasure and his lips twist into a sardonic smile, “oh? that sounds more like a challenge to me.”

keigo bends your knees up, holding your ankles as he dives down to lick a fat strip of your essence. you shudder from the feeling of his wet muscle lapping the slick up and down while he gazes at your blissful expression through half-lidded eyes. he intentionally circles your throbbing clit with the tip of his tongue and gives a harsh suck that causes your legs to tremble.

“mmph– keigo!” you whimper, trying to close your legs together but he only pushes your legs up even more until your ass is lifted from the bed.

he drags his tongue down slowly then prods it inside your dripping hole. he wiggles his tongue all around your walls, shoving it as deep as he can until most of his face is buried against your cunny. your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when you make eye contact with the male– his gaze is predatory and intense, his expression inexplicit as he continues to fuck you with his tongue.

the warm muscle brushing rapidly against your walls feels so lewd yet arousing. keigo can see that your tummy begins to twitch as your breath comes shorter while your legs shakes uncontrollably. keigo pulls away, licking his lips t0 clean off your juices yet you can still see some leftovers glimmering on the tip of his nose and his chin.

“shit,” he slides in a finger inside your quivering hole and groans over the feeling of your walls clenching around it. “you’re ready to take a cock, aren’t you?”

“mmhmm, please.” you whimper, grinding your hips to match his pace after he fits in another finger.

“i like you begging like this. not very cocky now, huh?” he curls his digits inside you, dragging it against the spongy part that bounds to tip you off the edge soon.

“oh, fuck–” you gasp as the muscles in your lower stomach continues to tighten vigorously. “keigo– wanna cum–”

“then cum.” he snickers, pushing his fingers back and forth at a ruthless pace while his thumb ghosts over your neglected clit. “come on. you can do it.”

keigo mocks again, not minding how he comes off quite petty since he’s the one who has the upper hand now. so he uses that opportunity to make you beg and given the fact that you’ve grown more desperate, you let it slide.

“p-please–” your hips are shaking, begging for one final push before you can completely reach your orgasm.

“you need me to touch this clit, don’t you?” he coos, grazing his thumb teasingly.

“pleaseplease. need you, keigo. make me cum–”

keigo generously rubs tight circles on your clit, causing your body to spasm violently as you’re pushed over the edge and cream all over his fingers. keigo crawls on top of you, drowning your moans with a fervour kiss and the saltiness that has enveloped his tongue embeds with your taste buds.

“but that wasn’t enough to show you how fast i can be, right?” he chuckles, freeing his throbbing cock from its confinement, tip already flushed with a bead of precum before he shifts back down and lines with your quivering hole.

you gasp when you feel his cock stretches your sopping cunny, each bulging vein brushes against your walls as he fills you to the brim.

“shit. i– ‘m so full.” you sob, clenching your sheets firmly before he takes out his cock halfway and pushes back inside you steadily.

“f-fucking tight. your pussy’s sucking me so well.” he props on his hands so he can look into your eyes while he pounds inside your pussy. reflexively, your legs are wrapped around his waist and allows keigo to ram deeper and concurrently kissing your cervix with his tip.

“hah– feels good–” you moan. “choke me.”

your request took him by surprise and it’s clear from the way his cock suddenly twitches inside you. nonetheless, he complies; circling his palm around your throat and pressing carefully.

“mmph– yesyesyes!” your eyes roll back as your mind slowly becomes cloudy from the lack of oxygen while the male growls above you, sheathing his thick cock in and out as your walls clench around him.

“goddamn, you’re clamping down on me.” he says through gritted teeth, applying more pressure around your neck as he thrusts harder.

the air in the room is filled with the sounds of his balls smacking your skin and lewd squelching noises. the pressure inside your tummy builds up drastically and your toes are curling as you chase for another orgasm while you submissively let keigo milk his cock with your sloppy cunt.

“come on, baby. cum on this fat cock.”

you’re unsure whether your mind is playing tricks on you or whether keigo’s pace has become more relentless and incredibly fast but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when it feels so good, the pressure inside your stomach is threatening to snap.

“keigo–!” with a loud cry of his name, you finally come undone– pussy fluttering around his cock and he finally lets go of his hold from your neck to let you breathe.

“fuck yeah. good girl.” keigo nibbles on your neck, marking you with purple bruises as he rides through your high. his sporadic thrusts soon starts to falter and you know he’s just close when you feel his cock twitching inside.

“fuck– baby– i’m gonna cum.” he says through grunts, brows furrowing as he desperately reaches for his climax. his hips stop moving abruptly, groaning in your ear as he fills you up with his load.

the two of you stay in trance for a moment, regaining your composure before keigo pulls out his spent cock and lies next to you. while keigo is still in a daze, you get up and reach for the drawer beside you and get on top of him. keigo snaps back to reality when he hears the clank of a metal sound above his head. by tugging his wrists, he can figure that it’s a metal handcuff. once again, keigo is astonished. it’s confounding and thrilling; how many more surprises do you have in store for him? all underneath that cold guise, he has never expected you to be such a fun person to be with.

“round two? so soon.” he smirks conceitedly, golden eyes shining brightly with eagerness. “i must’ve been that good, huh?”

but you only chuckle and shake your head before looking at him dead in the eyes. he’s slightly perplexed, but his blood run cold once you show him a shiny badge in your hand.

upon his obvious dismay, you return his smirk. “keigo takami, you’re under arrest for participating in illegal street racing.”

#keigo takami #takami keigo #keigo x you #keigo x reader #hawks x you #hawks x reader #hawks smut #keigo smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha hawks #hawks fanfic #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #bnha au #hawks au #r; writes

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holidaywishes · 4 years ago

Text

Behind Closed Doors

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: Can I request a fic where Auston is in love with the reader but so is Freddie and the reader has feelings for Fred so they date in secret as to not hurt Auston but he finds out when he catches them together or something 😅 *edit* would it be possible to make the reader really shy and quiet and possibly a little bit innocent and Fred thinks Auston only likes her because he wants to corrupt her or something like that

Warning: fluff, angst

Author’s Note: So, I decided to do this in kind of a “timeline” set up. So we start with them all meeting each other and then see how Auston fell for the reader and how Freddie and the reader started a relationship and how/why they decided to keep it a secret which made the fic REALLY long. About three quarters of the way through, I thought about splitting it up but didn’t so... it’s just really long. ALSO! I’m pretty sure credit for this GIF goes to @moto-leafs but I originally found it on Google Image Search and that link took me to Pinterest so I could be wrong. If I am, please correct me! But I mean, look at that GIF -- so much anger, I had to use it. Lastly, I just want to point out that I know nothing about the Raptors or basketball in general and, to be honest, I have no interest in learning anything about it. I apologize if the players I referred to are not good players or that they’re not actually currently on the team (I looked up the Roster and just randomly picked names.) Lastly, to anon, I already had most of the fic written when you sent in your ask so I’m not sure if I was able to completely fulfill it. Still, I hope you enjoy it! Stay Golden, loves! <3

masterlist

the other masterlist

Auston’s P.O.V

The Raptors game was disappointing. It started out great but late in the third quarter, they gave up their lead and ended up losing by 20.

“Well...” Freddie sighed, “what do you wanna do?”

“Ugh,” you groaned, “I don’t know , I j--” Your attention was stolen by the scent of coconut passing you by and you tried to find who it belonged to, your eyes landing on a group of girls giggling near the exit. “Follow them” you said under your breath

“Huh?” Freddie replied, drawing your attention back to him

“Sorry,” you said before quickly making your way to the group of girls that held your attention, “follow them.” You repeated to Freddie as your feet began to move

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he laughed, “we can’t just go following a group of girls. That’s a little creepy, don’t you think?”

“Then let’s go talk to them...” you sighed, “that’s all I meant. They just smell so damn good...”

“What?” Fred scoffed

“Just.. follow me.” You came up behind the girls, listening to them laugh with each other, and leaned down to greet them. “Hi,” you said happily, standing up straight when they turned to you, “I’m Auston. This is Freddie.”

“Hi,” one of them said, “I’m Lily”

“Shirley,” another introduced herself before laughing, “my parents were big fans of Shirley Temple”

“Gabby” another said with a smile

“Tracy” the next one greeted and you were soon met with the eyes of the last girl of the group. Catching the scent from earlier and waiting for her to speak

“Hi,” she smiled shyly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, “I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you both...”

“We’re sorry for just.. kind of stalking you guys,” Freddie chuckled, “we just wanted to say hi. And see if you wanted to join us for some drinks?” The girls looked back and forth between each other before Lily agreed for all of them

“We’ll grab our own ride and follow you there?” she said

“Or we could all just walk over” you suggested

“Well...” Gabby chimed in, “what bar are you taking us to?”

“There’s a place called the Loose Moose. I’ve heard it’s a good vibe”

“It’s a short walk” Tracy said

“And it’s not too cold out” (Y/N) added with a shrug

“I like it. It’s like we’ll have bodyguards” Shirley joked

“Alright then! I guess that’s settled” Lily laughed, gesturing for everybody to head out the exit.

“So what’s the plan here?” Freddie asked in a whispered tone as the two of you followed behind the group of girls, staying close so you didn’t lose them

“Don’t really have a plan,” you replied, “just thought we’d hang out...”

“That’s it?” he scoffed, “you’ve got no thoughts?”

“What did you have in mind?” you chided

“Nothing,” he chuckled, holding his hands up in defence, “I just thought that you’d have something in mind. You know... since you were the one who wanted us to ‘follow them’”

“Like I said, I just thought we’d hang out. Have some drinks, laugh a little. No ulterior motives” you confessed. You both listened to see if you could hear either of the girls talking about you, trying not to be too obvious, but when (Y/N) turned her head to look at you, you both jerked your heads away; watching her smile before whispering something to her friend.

“So...” she started, “why us?”

“What do you mean?” you asked with a smirk, catching Freddie watching you as she spoke, leading you to train your eyes forward

“Oh come on!” she scoffed dramatically, “don’t think that we don’t know who you are. We’re not dumb enough not to realize that you’re Auston Matthews and Frederik Andersen of the Toronto Maple Leafs” she smiled as she gestured enthusiastically, keeping relatively close to the two of you, your arms rubbing against each other every so often. “But why did you pick us? Why did you come over and ask us to get drinks with you guys?”

“Fair enough,” Freddie smiled, grabbing her attention before you could, “we couldn’t help it. We saw you all from across the room and we got a little... entranced.”

“Entranced?” she giggled, turning her body ever so toward Freddie, “really, that’s what you’re going with?”

“Yeah, I think it is” Freddie smirked. You watched as the two locked eyes, leaving you to direct them through the crowd, never feeling like more of a third wheel in your life.

It was strange, to you, that two professional athletes would want to take you and your girls out for a drink but then you thought to yourself: five of us, two of them, they’re probably just playing the odds. So, when Lily agreed to go to the bar, you couldn’t exactly think of a reason to say no.

“They’re cute!” Shirley whispered to you as you walked arm in arm down the sidewalk

“Are you planning on making a move?” you smirked

“Maybe,” she replied, “are you?”

“I don’t think so” you smiled. You weren’t really the flirt of the group, you usually left that up to Lily and Tracy, and you were almost positive they were the reason Auston and Freddie approached the group anyway. That didn’t mean you couldn’t be a wing woman for them or get some answers for yourself. You looked back and caught the two laughing between themselves before jerking their heads away as if not to be caught by you, “hey, I’ll be right back okay?”

“Mhm...” Shirley hummed teasingly and you dropped your arm from hers and fell back to where the boys stood

“So...” you said as you tucked yourself between the two of them, “why us?”

“What do you mean?” Auston replied with a smirk

“Oh come on” you scoffed, switching your gaze between the two of them as you continued. “Don’t think we don’t know who you are. We’re not dumb enough not to realize that you’re Auston Matthews and Frederik Andersen of the Toronto Maple Leafs,” you smiled as you confessed something you knew they already knew, feeling Auston’s arm graze against yours every once in a while as the three of you continued walked pretty closely together. “But why did you pick us? Why did you come over and ask us to get drinks with you guys?”

“Fair enough,” Freddie smiled and you couldn’t help but be drawn to him, “we couldn’t help it. We saw you all from across the room and we got a little... entranced.”

“Entranced?” you giggled, turning your body to his, “really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Yeah,” he smirked, “I think it is.” You tried not to stare at him, even when you heard your friends laugh or when you felt Auston’s hand on your back to direct you away from oncoming traffic on the sidewalk, but you couldn’t help it; he had you hooked.

Freddie’s P.O.V

The entirety of the night was spent trading shots and expressing how deeply disappointed you all were in the Raptors

“I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY GAVE UP THEIR LEAD SO EARLY!” Gabby exclaimed

“I can’t believe Davis missed that shot!” Shirley added

“Lowry was off tonight,” Auston sighed, “ruined the entire game”

“Now hold on,” (Y/N) interjected, “you can’t blame it all on Lowry.”

“I can’t?” he asked, raising one eyebrow and you shook your head before smiling

“It’s a team sport,” (Y/N) continued, “Watanabe and Siakam should’ve helped out their man.” You finished your beer before asking the group if they wanted another drink and everyone seemed to be empty

“Here,” Freddie called out as you walked away, “let me help you.” You placed your hand on the small of her back to let her know that you were there. As you waited for the bartender to take your long list of drink orders, you decided this was your chance to get to know her a little better, “so.. what do you do?”

“For work?” she asked, “I’m a social media content curator...” she rolled her eyes at her title

“I take it that’s not what you want to do?” you smiled and she shook her head

“No...” she sighed, “I went to school for interior design but, because I’m a millennial, everyone thought I knew what I was doing online. Spoiler alert: I have to use Google for everything I do in my job because I have no idea what’s going on” she laughed. “But I have so much student debt and the job pays well...”

“What do you want to do?” you asked

“Like what’s my dream job?” she replied and it was your turn to nod for her to continue, “I-- someday, I want to have my own company. I want to be able to design spaces for luxury hotels and million dollar homes while also breathing life into non-profit organizations like homeless shelters and food banks...” she got so excited explaining her dream that you could only watch in awe as her eyes sparkle as she shared her ideas. “I’m sorry...” she blushed, “am I talking too much? I’m talking too much, I’m sorry”

“No no no!” you exclaimed, stopping only for a second to finally order the drinks for the group. “Don’t be sorry,” you continued, “I like hearing you talk. I like hearing you get all excited, it’s exciting for me” she chuckled at your confession before walking ahead of you back to the group, sitting down across from her friends and you grabbed the open seat next to her.

“Thank you” she smiled, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear so you could still see her face. The night continued with more alcohol, more talking and a little bit of dancing and you kept getting closer and closer to (Y/N) but when you got too tired to keep dancing, Auston stepped in. You watched as they laughed together, swaying to the music before (Y/N) let her head fall back onto Auston’s chest, stopping when the music changed; Auston making his way toward you quickly as (Y/N) stayed back with her friends

“You should back out there,” he smiled, wiping off the sweat from his brow, “everyone’s having a lot of fun” he said as he looked back at the girls. There was a look on his face that you could tell meant he was falling for her, “god she’s somethin’ huh?”

“Who?” you questioned dumbly, hoping that he’d say someone else

“(Y/N),” he scoffed, taking a sip of water, “I mean look at her!” he exclaimed, gesturing to the girl you’d begun falling for. “That smile, that hair, the way she moves her hips. I mean, I could swear she was testing me out there” you had to stop yourself from getting offended on behalf of (Y/N), but the way Auston was talking was starting to infuriate you

“I didn’t think she was your type...” you mumbled

“She’s not, not really,” he smirked, “but I’m allowed to have a little fun. Plus, she looks so innocent... I like that”

“So, you just want to corrupt her?” you scoffed

“Corrupt her? No way!” he said, “I just wanna see how innocent she really is”

“So, you’re just gonna fuck and chuck? Really? You’re gonna be that guy?” your anger had gotten the best of you and you just snapped

“Whoa,” he replied with a chuckle, holding his hands by his shoulders in defence, “there’s nothing going on with you two right?” You looked back at where (Y/N) was on the dance floor, bopping with her friends and laughing with the people around her, before looking back at your friend and teammate. What were you supposed to say? No, I’m not into her. I don’t find the way she laughs hypnotizing. I don’t find her passion exciting. I don’t think she’s sweet. Or funny. Or smart. I’m not into her. Of course not. But of course, that would be a lie, “Freddie? Hello?..”

“Sorry...” you said, shaking your head, “have you asked her out?”

“No,” he admitted, “but the way you’re acting, I guess I just thought I’d make sure nothing was going on before I did...”

“No, nothing’s happening” you strained a smile, looking at (Y/N) before continuing, “ask her out. See what she says. See if she’s as innocent as she seems...” he smiled at you and patted you on the shoulder as he finished the water in front of him, shifting in his seat as the girls came back to the table.

“HEY!” they all exclaimed, the alcohol clearly taking effect; (Y/N) sat beside you and you tried to not get too close; leaving space for Auston to make his move. The look on her face proved that she wasn’t happy with the way you were suddenly treating her; only to be confirmed when she followed you to the bathroom

“WHAT THE HELL?!” she yelled, pushing into the bathroom and locking it behind you

“What are you doing?!” you yelled back quietly

“Why are you all of a sudden ignoring me? You’ve spent the entire night getting close to me and getting to know me and now you just decide, meh, no, I’m over it? Did you finally decide I was too boring for you? Oh, sweet little (Y/N), she’s too nice for what I’m looking for...”

“That’s not what’s going on...” you tried

“No?” she questioned, getting closer to you as she spoke, “then what is going on? Tell me, I wanna know”

“Auston,” you sighed, “he wants to... ask you out”

“So...” she huffed, “he can ask but I won’t say yes”

“Why not?” you asked

“Because, I want you to ask me out, dummy,” she laughed, “I wouldn’t have followed you in here like a lunatic if I wasn’t interested in you!” You held your breath for a second as you took in what she said, closing the space between you quickly and pushing her against the wall, letting your lips move in sync with hers. Your heavy breathing filled up the space as you were forced to pull away from each other due to the sounds of drunken bar-goers banging on the door

“He can’t know about this...” you said, adjusting your shirt and fixing your hair, “Auston” you clarified.

“I know,” she replied, wiping away her smudged lipstick from your lips before looking in the mirror to adjust herself, “don’t worry. It’ll be our little secret.”

1 Year Later

When you and Freddie started dating, you agreed to keep it a secret because it was so new that neither of you wanted to screw it up but, truly, it was a wonder that you and Freddie had never been caught, by anyone, much less by Auston with the way you two were constantly touching each other in the smallest of ways or flitting off to be alone together.

“Maybe he’ll be okay with it?” you asked between kisses, continuing the conversation you’d had with Fred about Auston earlier, “it’s been a year...”

“He won’t be okay with it,” Freddie chuckled, moving his lips to your neck to leave trails of kisses over your skin, “he talks about you every time he sees you, every time you leave the room” you groaned in reply, distracted by the feeling of his tongue against your skin.

“Why do you want to tell him so badly?” he asked, pulling away suddenly, his hands lightly on your hips, and scrunched his eyebrows together

“I hate sneaking around...” you admitted, “I love you, Fred, but I hate lying. We’ve all become so close and the more time that goes by, the more he’ll feel like we betrayed him”

“Is that what you think?” he asked and you nodded, pouting in response, “no matter when we tell him, he’ll think we betrayed him. Because I told him I wasn’t interested and then I lied; he asked you out, you declined, he still decided he’d try to get you to fall for him”

“So what do we do?” you sighed

“We keep doing what we’re doing,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close to his chest, “don’t get caught.”

“What happens when we finally do get caught?” you questioned, cocking your eyebrow

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it...”

“Freddie...”

“What do you want me to say?” he threw his head back, dropping his hands from your waist to run them through his hair, “that, in order to throw Auston off, you should go on a date with him?”

“What?” you scoffed, “you really think that would work?” you leaned in and whispered, seriously considering the option

“I wasn’t serious!” he exclaimed, raising your arms in annoyance

“I don’t want to use him,” you said, hopping down from the counter where you were, “but maybe if we go on a date and he realizes that we’re not.. compatible, then he’ll drop it and we’ll be able to be together. Honestly. Without hiding.”

“(Y/N), baby,” he smiled, “you don’t need to worry about using him. Or being compatible. He’ll find a way to make you compatible so he can use you”

“He’s not going to use me...” you scoffed

“Yes he is” he scoffed back

“I don’t think so” you teased

“Baby, you forget. I know him. He talks to me. He told me what he wanted from you the night we all met,” you confessed, “Plus, he’s charming... He’ll find a way to get exactly what he wants without you realizing he’s doing it”

“You’re charming,” you smiled, grabbing his waist and pulling him close to you so you could wrap your arms around his neck, “way more charming than him”

“You don’t know that. You haven’t been with him one-on-one...”

“Then maybe I should,” you teased slightly, curling his hair with your fingers, “you know, just to prove you wrong?”

“Fine” he said sternly, pulling away from you. “Let him ask you out. Let him do exactly what he wants with you. Just so he can say he had you ‘cause that’s all he wants.”

“Freddie,” you chuckled, “It’s not like I’m not going to sleep with him.”

“You better not” you placed your hand on his cheek so he would look at you, smiling when you saw his sad puppy dog eyes

“I love you” you whispered before he leaned down and kissed your lips

“I love you, too.”

Auston’s P.O.V

You had been asking out (Y/N) for months. You couldn’t understand why she would be hanging around so much if she wasn’t interested but you persisted and she actually agreed

“Really?” you said quietly and she nodded in response, scrunching her eyebrows together with a sympathetic smile, “I mean, great! I’ll pick you up... Friday at 8″

“Perfect, see you then” she smiled before hugging you goodbye and turning on her heels. You spent the rest of the week trying to prepare for the perfect date but you weren’t even sure what that looked like

“Just take her somewhere nice,” Freddie suggested as the two of you sat in your living room, playing NHL20, “I wouldn’t put too much pressure on it”

“I don’t think you understand Fred,” you laughed, “I have been trying to get this girl to go out with me for an entire year. I’ve never worked this hard just to hook up with someone before”

“Why are you working so hard? It’s not like you’re hoping anything comes of it right? You just want to hook up with her because of the way she danced with you one night a year ago...” he pried

“No,” you replied, “but I’ve never been with someone like her”

“Someone like her?” he repeated and you furrowed your brow

“A nice girl. A sweet girl. An innocent girl..”

“You're really hung up on her being innocent aren’t you?” he asked

“Wh-- do you know something I don’t?” you laughed, “just tell me where I should take her”

“I don’t know...” he sighed, dropping his face in his hands, “just go somewhere casual... somewhere you can wear jeans and a t-shirt”

“You seem annoyed.. why are you annoyed?”

“I’m not annoyed.. I just have a bit of a headache. Look, just take her somewhere low-key. You’re not trying to impress her so you don’t need to work this hard. That’s it” he replied, standing up and walking out as the screen lit up to tell you that you won and you celebrated loudly, unbothered by Freddie’s departure. When Friday finally came along, you took (Y/N) to an outdoor patio for some drinks since the weather was getting a little bit nicer before eventually heading over to Tilt to play some games. The two of you were having some friendly competition and laughing with each other

“I can’t believe it’s so late!” she exclaimed, noticing the time on the clock on the wall, “we’ve been playing games for almost four hours!”

“No no, hold on,” you smirked, “you’ve been playing games. I’ve been dominating at every turn!”

“Oh yeah sure, hot shot,” she smiled, smacking your arm playfully. “Seriously, I think we should probably get going...” she whispered and you thought that this was your chance but she flipped it on you, “I promised my Mom I’d meet up with her -- she’s going through something at work...”

“I’m sorry to hear that” you said, rubbing her arm softly before catching her eyes dancing across your face. It felt like a moment that begged for a kiss but when she turned her head away, you had to let it go, “I’ll drive you home.”

“Thanks” she smiled before walking ahead of you toward the exit of the arcade. The ride home was silent aside from (Y/N)’s phone going off every five minutes or so

“Everything okay?” you finally asked, not wanting to intrude

“Yeah, sorry...” she sighed, “it’s just my mom. Trying to figure out when we’re going to see each other”

“I can take you to her place, if that’s easier?” you said

“No,” she replied, placing her hand on your knee briefly before pulling it away, as if she caught herself flirting and had to stop herself, “no that’s okay. I told her we’d meet at mine so she could get out of her house, but thank you.” When you pulled up in front of her apartment building, (Y/N) smiled over at you, “thank you, again, I had fun tonight...”

“Let me walk you in” you insisted and she agreed. You walked her to her door and stood there silently. Maybe this was just a ruse, you thought to yourself, maybe she wanted you to follow her inside. You leaned in and she hesitated, taking a breath before her eyes opened wide and danced between yours, before she took a tiny step forward. There was something in the way she looked at you that made your mind go completely blank and your body take over, connecting your lips with hers and leading her against the wall by her door. You let your hands wander from her neck to her waist as the kiss began to heat up and you could feel her breathing increase, leaving her chest heaving when you moved to kiss her neck

“Auston...” she breathed, pressing her hands into your shoulders, “Auston...”

“Should we go inside?” you smiled to yourself before continuing to kiss behind her ear

“I think we should stop...” she confessed

“Come on..” you replied, “your mom isn’t really coming over is she?”

“I just can’t... don’t think we should do this” she said, stumbling over her own excuse

“You don’t have to act so innocent” you smiled, leaning back down to kiss her neck

“What?” she said, pushing you away from her so she could look at you, “I’m not trying to act innocent. I just think we should stop. We had fun tonight, it was a good date but it doesn’t need to end with sex...”

“If it was good, why wouldn’t you want it to continue?”

“I--”

“Why would you lie?” you interrupted, starting to get angry

“Please don’t get angry...” she whispered, almost pouting at you, “I just didn’t want to give you the wrong idea when I said it was late. That’s all...” You huffed at her reasoning before shrugging and turning to walk back to your car, looking back at her as she took a deep breath and walked into her apartment.

You were surprised at how much fun you were having. You expected Auston to take you to just invite you to his apartment so you could Netflix and Chill so he could make the move that Freddie was so convinced he was going to make, but when he took you to an arcade you were pleasantly surprised. The night was going really well, so when you noticed that it had gotten so late you realized you had to find a way to end the date but the only thing that came to your mind was to lie and say that your mom needed you. Auston seemed to be accepting of it and drove you home but Freddie kept texting you on the ride home and it started to raise flags to Auston

“Everything okay?” he asked

“Yeah, sorry...” you sighed, “it’s just my... mom. Trying to figure out when we’re going to see each other” you lied, replying to Freddie’s frantic texts asking what was happening

“I can take you to her place, if that’s easier?” he asked

“No,” you said quickly, placing your hand on his knee involuntarily before pulling it away to not give the wrong impression, “no that’s okay. I told her we’d meet at mine so she could get out of her house, but thank you.” He finally pulled up in front of your apartment building and thanked him, “I had fun tonight...”

“Let me walk you in” he offered and you agreed, thinking it was sweet, but unsure of what to say as the two of you walked to your door. He seemed to be fine with the silence, so you kind of just followed his lead before finally getting to your door, smiling at him awkwardly as you both continued to stand in silence. You noticed him lean in and you took a quiet breath, hesitating before you noticed how much closer he had gotten to you; becoming almost a deer in headlights as your eyes flitted between his. You unwittingly took a tiny step forward and his hands moved to your neck before his lips crashed into yours as his body directed you against the wall. His hands snaked down to your waist and your breath began to build in your chest as you felt the kiss begin to heat up. You found yourself thinking about Freddie, knowing that he knew where you were and who you were with and what he believed Auston’s intentions to be; but you couldn’t help but fall into his slow kiss, dragging your hands up his arms until they rested on his shoulders. This wasn’t supposed to happen, you thought to yourself, the date was supposed to end like this, he was just supposed to walk you to your door and go...

“Auston...” you said through heaving breaths, “Auston...”

“Should we go inside?” you could hear him smiling before he continued to kiss your neck and you shook your head pathetically

“I think we should stop” you said, still breathing heavily and pushing your hands into his shoulders

“Come on,” he smirked again, looking at you quickly, “your mom isn’t really coming over is she?”

“I just can’t...“ you stumbled, “don’t think we should do this”

“You don’t have to act so innocent” he whispered as he leaned back to lay kisses on your neck

“What?” you said angrily, pushing him away from you so you could finally see his face, “I’m not trying to act innocent. I just think we should stop. We had fun tonight, it was a good date but it doesn’t need to end with sex...”

“If it was good, why wouldn’t you want it to continue?” he questioned

“I--”

“Why would you lie?” he interrupted and you could tell he was starting to get angry

“Please don’t get angry...” you pleaded quietly “I just didn’t want to give you the wrong idea when I said it was late. That’s all...” He huffed at you before turning on his heel and walking away from you; you composed yourself to unlock your door and head inside.

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!” Freddie yelled as soon as you walked in the door

“Freddie?” you said, “what are you doing here?”

“I heard the two of you out there... kissing...” he admitted, “I knew he’d make his move”

“I don’t need this right now, please, just don’t” you sighed

“What’s wrong?” he replied, more sympathetic now as he followed you to the couch, kneeling in front of you to comfort you

“This was a mistake,” you admitted, “if we had just been honest with him, I wouldn’t have had to lie to him about all this. And he wouldn’t have made a move on me...”

“Baby,” he whispered, “this is my fault, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have agreed to letting you go out with him...”

“He was so mad, Fred. Like I could feel him seething” you sighed

“He’ll be fine,” Freddie said, “I’ll talk to him tomorrow, tell him the truth” you frowned at him, unsure if that was the right move, but you wrapped your arms around his neck as his wrapped around your waist. “I love you” he whispered in your ear before pushing the hair away from your face and kissing your eyelids gently, earning little giggles from you before you pecked his lips. It wasn’t long before he was drawing you close to him, your chest tight against his as he kissed your lips passionately

“I love you” you smiled when he pulled away from the kiss to remove his shirt, picking you up after he connected his lips back to yours, letting his tongue part your lips as your fingers played with his hair. He held you against the wall to remove your shirt, smiling at you biting your lip, leaning in to kiss you when the door flew open

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?” Auston yelled

“Auston” Freddie yelled in surprise, putting you down gently and you frantically tried to cover your bra-clad body

“What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to hide yourself behind Freddie

“Is this why you wouldn’t invite me in? You already had someone inside?” he snarled, “I can’t believe I was so gullible, you’re really not innocent at all!”

“HEY!” Freddie yelled, stepping closer to his teammate but managing to keep you covered, “that’s enough! You never saw her as a person, only as a conquest. Stop being a dick.” You could feel Freddie’s muscles tensing in his arm as you held onto him, preparing for what Auston would say next

“Me? I’m the dick?” he scoffed in return, “she’s the one who’s going through us like candy wrappers!”

“STOP IT!” your boyfriend continued to yell

“I get it, Fred,” Auston smirked, “I mean I finally get it. You wanted to have something before me, that’s why you kept telling me not to try to sleep with her. You wanted her first. I get it.”

“Watch it” Freddie growled

“But now that you’ve had her, I think it’s time you drop the act. Let me have a turn...”

“ENOUGH!” you finally shouted, stepping out from behind Freddie, “you two are ridiculous. Auston, I’m sorry that I upset you but Freddie and I have been dating for almost a year now. I thought--”

“We thought” Freddie corrected, forcing you to look back at him

“We thought if I agreed to go on a date with you, you’d drop it and then we’d be able to come clean with you. But I didn’t expect you to kiss me...”

“You kissed me back!” he replied angrily

“I did,” you admitted, “I got caught up in the moment and I shouldn’t have but it doesn’t change anything. You don’t get to have a turn with me, I’m not a toy and you should be ashamed of yourself for thinking that way” you waited for either of them to speak, but they remained silent. “I think you should both go. You can fight it out if you want, just not here.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N)” Freddie whispered and you squeezed his outstretched hand in reassurance

“Just tell me one thing,” Auston sighed, looking between the two of you, “is this real? I mean, are you sticking around or are you gonna wait until someone else comes along?” You looked at Freddie once, a smile creeping across your face

“I love him,” you confessed, still looking at the tall, ginger man behind you, “it’s real for me”

“It’s real for me, too,” he replied with his eyes locked on yours until he finally looked at Auston, “I love her. We love each other. You weren’t supposed to find out this way but we didn’t know how to tell you...”

“You’re sure?” Auston asked, “that you both feel the same way about each other?” you both nodded before Freddie wrapped his arms around your waist from behind you and kissed your temple. “Alright,” he sighed, dropping his head, “then I guess I’ll.. leave you to it” he forced a smile and walked out the door, leaving you feeling like you had to chase after him

“Auston, wait,” you called, “I really am sorry about all this”

“I know” he said

“You really were trying to play me though weren’t you?”

“At first, yeah,” he laughed, “but somewhere along the way, I realized you were too sweet to be played. Maybe it was the outfit you picked or the makeup you wore or the way you looked at me... or the lie you told...” he smirked when he remembered what you told him. “I don’t know what did it but I lost my nerve”

“You didn’t lose your nerve when you decided to kiss me” you teased

“Sure I did,” he scoffed, “because when I was kissing you it became about feeling you close to me and not... trying to get in your pants” you smiled at his words, feeling a tinge of heat rush through your body to your cheeks as if you were embarrassed

“For what it’s worth,” you finally said, “if you take a girl you actually like, not one you’re just trying to mess around with, on a date like tonight -- she’d be lucky to have you” he smiled tightly, his lips pressed together as if he didn’t really believe it, and continued making his way down the hallway. You hoped this wouldn’t cause problems between Fred and Auston but you were just happy the secret was finally out.

81 notes · View notes

marvelous-writer · 4 years ago

Text

Ferry Rides, Panic Attacks & Cheeseburgers

Summary:

“Pete, you alright?” Happy quietly asks in a worried voice.

Peter snaps his eyes open and nods shakily. “Y-Yeah.” He lies.

Happy turns in his seat as he leans in front of him and looks at his face. “You don’t look it,” he says worriedly. “What’s going on?”

“N-Nothing—I’m fine.” Peter tries to assure him—heck, to assure himself but he can’t get the thought of the ferry ripping in two out of his mind. He can’t fail everyone again—he can’t fail Tony again.

Peter’s art class goes on a field trip to the Statue of Liberty and Happy tags along.

Word Count: 2,490

Genre: whump, humor, hurt/comfort

Link to read on Ao3:

A/N: @webpril day 1: field trip

“We live in New York… and your school trip is to the Statue of Liberty?” Happy questions as they stand in Midtown High’s parking lot at ten in the morning, standing in line, dressed in his usual suit and tie attire with a pair of dark shades, standing out like a sore thumb beside Peter as everyone boards the bus.

“I did tell you where we were going yesterday.” Peter reminds him.

“I know… but a field trip to the Statue of Liberty for art class? You guys couldn’t have gone to a museum or something?”

Peter sighs as he moves ahead further in line, rolling his eyes as he overhears Flash and Abraham bickering over who gets to sit in the back of the bus.

“Do you know what we’re doing anyways?” Happy asks.

Peter shrugs. “I'm not sure. I guess we’re going to study the statue and draw it. Ms. Betzing said something about studying light patterns and shading.”

Happy groans at his side. “You guys couldn’t have pulled up photos of it from Google or something?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Peter says, shooting a smile over his shoulder at him before he boards the bus.

...

It takes them a little over an hour until they reach Battery Park, where they will board the ferry that will take them to Liberty Island across the harbor.

“Alright, class! I want all of you to stick together and stay with your groups—no wandering off and everyone be on your best behavior,” Ms. Betzing says as she hands out the maps of Liberty Island and their ferry passes. “I want you all to sketch out anything that catches your eyes as we go and feel free to take any pictures with your phones for references!”

“What if we get motion sickness?” Someone from their group asks.

Ms. Betzing winces at the question. “Uhm… then you can feel free to wait until we’re off the ferry. I want you all to have a fun time on the trip and we certainly don’t want anyone getting sick today!”

They have to wait a few minutes until the ferry arrives, so Peter decides to pull out his small sketchbook from his backpack to kill some time, joining Ned and MJ over at a nearby bench.

“So, how are things going with shades over there?” MJ asks as she sketches something into her sketchbook.

Peter smirks at the nickname as he looks up at Happy, who’s standing near two of the other chaperones as their teacher talks to them, handing them maps as well. “Uh, okay I guess,” he says.

Happy looks bored, like he’d rather be anywhere else than here right now, and Peter can’t help but feel a little guilty. May had pushed Happy to go on the trip when Peter had her sign the permission slip last week, despite Peter’s protests against the idea of a chaperone, especially Happy being one. It’s not exactly the man’s thing and Peter knows how busy he is, being the head of security at SI and not to mention being Morgan’s part-time babysitter.

“You know, he kinda looks like he’s your bodyguard or something,” Ned adds in.

MJ laughs as she looks up from her sketch. “He does,” she agrees before lowering her voice so only they hear her. “It’s kinda sad that Spider-Man needs one though.” She says, shooting a grin Peter's way, earning a laugh from Ned.

Peter rolls his eyes half-heartedly at their teasing. “He’s not my bodyguard and you guys know it. He’s just here for the trip. May wanted him to go for some reason.”

“Why? Is it like… a bonding thing or something? You did say that she made you two have a ‘guys weekend’ last month.” Ned asks with a frown.

“Yeah, isn’t that when you slipped and broke your ribs on the toilet?” MJ adds.

Peter sighs, looking over at her with an unamused expression. “Thanks for reminding me,”

She smiles with a one-shouldered shrug. “That’s what I’m here for, babe.”

Ned makes a disgusted sound at the pet name. “But seriously, do you think that’s why he’s here? To spend more time with you or something now that he and May are engaged?”

Peter’s smile falters as he looks back over at Happy, who’s now looking at something on his phone with his glasses lowered down near the tip of his nose so he can see the screen. “I don’t know… maybe?”

When the ferry arrives at the port, they all get on and take their seats. Peter sits next to Happy again like he had on the bus and they wait for a few moments as passengers continue to get on board.

“You know, I bet Steve would’ve liked to go on this trip with it involving art and everything.” Happy says, breaking the silence between them.

Peter looks over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

Happy shugs. “He’s into art. He always has a doodle pad on him.”

“I never knew Cap was an artist.”

“He’s not bad, either. He once painted a picture of one of Tony’s cars and gave it to him for Christmas.”

Peter knows the exact painting he’s talking about, the one of the bright red Audi R8 Spyder that’s hung up in Tony’s office at the compound. “Cap painted that one?” Peter asks, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yeah,” Happy says with a nod.

“Wow,” Peter breathes out as a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “Think he’d do a portrait of Spider-Man?” He asks in a quiet tone, only to earn an amused chuckle from Happy.

“You never know. Maybe if you show up for training on time on the weekends.” He says, giving him a knowing look.

He’s got me there. Peter thinks to himself.

By the time the ferry is moving and on its way to Liberty Island, it only takes a few minutes until Peter is hit with a sense of deja vu as the memories of the last time he was on a ferry comes to mind—the fight with Toomes.

And that time… the ferry had split in half, all thanks to Peter screwing everything up.

Which just so happens to be the reason why he tries to avoid going on boats.

Peter swallows hard as he squeezes his hands that are resting on his lap, feeling the knot in his stomach that had formed in the past few minutes tighten. He darts his eyes around the inside of the ferry, looking up at the ceiling to make sure there aren’t any cracks or any signs of it about to split into two. At least he has his web-shooters on him, but what good did they do him the last time.

Tony was the one who saved the ferry… but Tony is now retired from Iron Man, even though Peter knows he’d jump into a suit and fly here as fast as he could—which would take too long since he’s all the way upstate. The ferry would sink in a matter of minutes with all the water pooling in and they would all drown if lifeboats didn’t arrive in time.

The horrifying scene of it all playing out in Peter’s head has him shaking, feeling his chest seize up in fear and dread. He slams his eyes shut as he mindlessly shakes his leg, trying to push away those terrifying images of MJ, Ned, and his classmates floating lifeless in the Hudson.

“Pete, you alright?” Happy quietly asks in a worried voice.

Peter snaps his eyes open and nods shakily. “Y-Yeah.” He lies.

Happy turns in his seat as he leans in front of him and looks at his face. “You don’t look it,” he says worriedly. “What’s going on?”

Peter tries to take in a deep breath in hopes to calm himself down a little but it comes out more like a weak gasp. His chest feels like there’s a rubber band tightly wrapped around it, blocking off any way for air to get in.

“Hey, hey—look at me. Kid? Peter.” Happy whispers urgently as he takes off his shades and gently grabs Peter’s shoulder, suddenly finding himself facing the man’s worried face. “Tell me what’s going on?”

“I-I don’t know,” Peter murmurs as he shuts his eyes again, grateful they’re sitting in the back so none of his classmates see his meltdown. “I-I can’t breathe.”

“You’re having a panic attack,” Happy says in a soft voice that Peter’s heard him use on Morgan many times before. “You’re okay—you’re safe. Just try to breathe.”

“I-I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Try to take a deep breath for me, Pete,” Happy gently tells him.

Peter wills his chest to release its chokehold on him as he tries to suck in a deep, shaky breath.

In one, two, three… out one, two, three. Peter thinks to himself, remembering the breathing exercise Tony taught him one time when he was having a panic attack similar to now.

It takes a few minutes of breathing until Peter feels like he’s not drowning in his own panic anymore, now that his chest has thankfully opened back up. He feels shaky and tired, but he can breathe.

“Feeling better?” Happy asks, brows pulled together in concern.

Peter shakes his head slowly. “Think so… sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Happy says as he grabs Peter’s backpack and zips it open to retrieve a water bottle. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks as he cracks it open and hands it to him.

Peter takes a sip before he sighs. “It’s stupid,” he says.

“It’s not.” Happy reassures.

“I…” Peter pauses and closes his eyes. “I was fine when we got on the ferry… but then my stupid brain went against me and all I could think about was—the ferry splitting in half.”

A look of realization flashes across Happy’s face. “Why didn’t you say anything? You didn’t have to go on this trip if you didn’t want to.”

“I did want to go but I just didn’t think the boat would bother me because I’m with you and everyone else,” Peter admits. “I just… I don’t know...”

“Hey,” Happy says gently. “I get it.

Peter looks up at him and offers a small, weak smile.

When they’re finally off the ferry, Peter follows behind the group with Happy at his side as everyone starts to head further on the island, Lady Liberty standing tall and proud above them, glowing a brilliant soft green in the afternoon sun.

MJ and Ned walk over and join them by a picnic table, thankfully unaware of Peter’s panic attack on the trip over. They all start drawing in their sketchbooks while Happy goes on his phone, even managing to sneak a few pictures of them when Peter isn’t looking.

Peter takes a deep breath in when a warm spring breeze blows past them, feeling it flow through his lungs. He feels a lot better now that he’s on dry land, with his friends and Happy. Sitting here drawing is pretty relaxing, surprisingly too. He’s never been a great drawer but this art class has helped him get a little better to the point that he actually enjoys it.

“Does this look like a pigeon or a rat?” Ned asks with a frown as he holds up his drawing for them to see.

“Definitely a rat,” MJ says with a small smirk. “But with feathers.”

Ned groans as he drops his sketchbook to the table. “I’d like to say that I give up but we have to pass this in at the end of class tomorrow.” He says, earning a chuckle from them.

“I think it looks good, Ned,” Peter offers. “I mean, have you seen the city’s pigeons? Those things are monsters.”

“You got a thing against pigeons?” MJ questions, shooting him a grin.

Happy chuckles from beside him. “He’s still sore about that one time one swiped his sandwich from him.”

Ned laughs at that and Peter holds his arms out in defense. “It was a sandwich from Delmar’s! No one steals my sandwich and gets away with it.”

“It got away, didn’t it?” MJ asks.

Peter’s shoulders slump with a sigh. “Yeah.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle as she looks back at her drawing.

...

The afternoon passes by in a blur and before they know it, it’s already time for them to head back. They’re now waiting in line as everyone boards the ferry once again and Peter is dreading getting back on.

“How about we hang back here for a little bit and let everyone else go on ahead?” Happy offers, seeming to sense his dread.

Peter raises an eyebrow at him. “But we have to get back to school.”

“Sure you can. I’ll sign you out for the rest of the day if you want.”

“You can?” Peter asks a little hopefully. He honestly doesn’t think he can get back on that boat right now and then go through another couple of hours at school.

“Yeah, let me go talk to your teacher then we’ll grab some lunch.” Happy tells him before he walks away from him to find Ms. Betzing.

It only takes Happy a few minutes before he’s back. “You’re all set.” He says.

“Really?” Peter asks, a little surprised at how easy it was.

“Yeah. She just had me sign a form,” Happy says as he nods his head in the direction of the group. “You wanna say goodbye to your friends?”

Peter shakes his head. “I’ll just text them later.”

...

Not even twenty minutes later, they’re seated outside of the Crown Cafe, enjoying two all-American burgers with a side of fries and two sodas.

“You know… you didn’t have to sign me out the rest of the day. We’re going to have to get back on the ferry anyways.” Peter says, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

“I know,” Happy says with a nod as he takes a sip of his soda. “But I thought you could use a break and our ride back is on his way.”

Peter raises an eyebrow to ask, only to be cut off when someone yells, “Hey, look! It’s Iron Man!” And below and behold, Iron Man suddenly drops down from the sky, landing across the way from them and drawing a crowd.

“We couldn’t have swam back to the city? Or what about a helicopter?” Peter sarcastically asks, turning back to Happy.

Happy shrugs with a smile. “I thought about the helicopter but I know May wouldn’t approve.”

Peter sighs before he takes another bite out of his burger.

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girllovesromance · 4 years ago

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Izzy’s Dag-Dag The Artist… Tag

Izzy’s Dag-Dag The Artist… Tag by @morgynemberisagenderfluiddaddy

Show us a rendition of yourself in your own art! Can be anything! Sims render? Random stick figure? Picrew? Go nuts! (Just be sure to tag the artist if you use someone else’s picrew!!!!) Tag the blogs you want to know, and don’t be a dick that’s it! Also, feel free to answer as vague or in-depth as you want. And if you don’t want to answer a question for any reason just don’t vibe with it! Skip it if you wanna! Also make sure you tag me and use #dagdagtheartisttag so I can see it!!!!!!!!

i was tagged by no one, saw @almost-spring post I though it would be fun, hmm....

1.) Do you prefer to be referred to by your name or blog name? Just call me Diu, I hate my real name: there were 4 kids with the same name in my elementary classes, that’s a basic af name.

2.) Where are you from? Vietnam

3.) Do you have pets? A cute dog, Sherry

4.) Tell us about your “dream”. Start a freaking webtoon series and receive some recognition, so I can do something I actually like, but I’m too afraid to risk it

5.) Aside from art, what are your hobbies? hmmm, listen to music, come up with ideas, daydream about it. Or I really like hate-read a story (basically read the stuff that irritates me the most, lol), so I can come up with a brand new story idea as an AU, fix-it fanfiction for that story. It’s good for creativity, then I can develop my characters using that idea. Besides, is procrastination a hobby too?

6.)Does anyone irl know about your blog? no one does, this is nice.

7.)Do you know anyone from your blog irl? no

8.) What are some fun facts about you? hmm... I like trash reincarnated villainess manga and manhwa stories recently. The authors just copied some tropes from the other authors to write the stories, so the characters and plots can be shallow (Tropes like black haired Male Lead who is mean to everyone but the Female Lead, reincarnated girl who threw her trauma out of the window or threw her past life memories away quickly and move on for the sake of revenge, zero character development if the FL is badass...) Part of me hate-read the stories, part of me love them as it I’m addicted to them

9.) What’s your day job? Student

10.) Do you have a celebrity look alike? Nope

11.) What’s your aesthetic? Anything pink, that’s my entire wardrobe. Vintage clothes, midi dresses and skirts, korean makeup.

12.) What kind of artist are you? Spontaneous, I’ve never drawn anything, suddenly become interested and decided to buy a tablet for art. So spontaneous...

13.) How did you get into your form of art? Trash reincarnated villainess webtoons made me wish I could draw, but didn’t have the nerve to start drawing. Then Clip Studio Paint ads popped up everywhere (did google read my mind?), they talked about 3d assets that would help drawing. So I’m drawing now

14.) What do you watch/listen/read/anything else while you create? I cannot multitask...

15.) What is your favorite of your own creations so far?

This painting reflects Of Love And War so well: Lan Chi being dragged to a brand new sh***y life, she is terrified

16.) How would you describe your art style? where did the light come from?

Webtoon style? I was inspired by True Beauty and Lookism art style. The light source typically come from top right corner of my drawings

17.) What is more satisfying to you coloring or outlining? coloring, tbh, my drawing is very lacking without coloring.

18.) What meme would you use to describe yourself?

19.) What character from any media form do you most identify with? none

20.) If you were on the run, what would you change your name to? Some nice and unique name. Tuong Vy is my favorite

21.) Have you ever or do you want to change blog names? To diu, that is so cute. Tiny shrimp

22.) God forbid Tumblr decides to pull a MySpace and lets us have page songs, what song would you choose?

23.) Oh yeah, I’m still on the MySpace train and I’m starting discourse! Who’s your top 8?

24.) Did you understand those references or did you have to look them up? (I’m fully away I’m ancient, but are you?) i have heard about MySpace, but I’ve never used it.

25.) One last question; why are you like that? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Feel free to answer it if you want

#ask

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my-name-is-lumien · 4 years ago

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30 Questions

Thank you for the tag @beckaroo 💕

Name/Nickname: My name is one syllable, so I don’t have a nickname ~ hmm, i don’t think anyone has figured out my name yet. 🤔

Gender: female, she/her

Zodiac Sign: Leo - that’s all I know ~

Height: 154 cm T^T

Birthday: Summer 😏

Lucky Number: I am anything but lucky! 😭 But I like 7...

When did you create this blog?: 2012! 😂 this was originally a One Direction blog! It became inactive around 2013 and I revived it around MArch last year ~

What do I post?: Mostly Choices stuff, some Choice of Games stuff, and other IFs and VNs, and some random things too!

Last thing I googled: acromelagy - it’s a hormonal disorder

Do I get asks?: not really ~

Why did I choose my URL?: It’s the name of my elf MC in Blades, and I wanted my url to be a character from Choices but I don’t wanna change it now and then so I chose a ‘neutral’ one. Hehe.

My current projects and wips: Just some character edits here and there. Mainly finishing my only entry for Blades AW and the remaining ones for Platinum Weekend.

Favorite artist(s) (atm): ...I am terrible when it comes to naming my favourites 😅

Favorite song of all time: uhm... The Last Resort? (Eagles)

Last movie: Soul 2020 - heh, that poor cat!

Last show: Sweet Home - it’s a Korean TV show about zombie-esque creatures.

Favourite food: Fried Chicken! hahahaha can’t go wrong with that ~

Food I hate: spicy stuff, I can’t stand spicy... 🥵

Favourite colour: refer below please...

Fun Facts: (I doubt these are fun tho~)

Favourite animal: wolves, lions, and falcons!

What I’m currently wearing: my college PE shirt and black shorts with ginormous pockets on both sides xD

Dream job: I wanted to be a physical therapist. But I am poor so I had a business degree instead and is jobless atm 😕

Dream trip: I wanna visit Europe :) Especially Norway - loved the scenery from TV and magazines!

Currently Reading: none, just IFs online. I am looking for crime novels tho (any suggestions?), just found a decent website 👀

Currently thinking about: this supernatural stuff I wanna write... and the pain in my lower back. 😂

I know the lyrics to maybe 80% of 1D songs ~ more or less

My drawings are decent enough - got praises for them :D

I know lots of stuff about the MCU - I have roped in some friends into the fandom and served as their tour guide! 😂

I have two head injuries that required stitches. Each happened years apart tho.

I speak faster than average according to my friends. Lol! some teachers also mentioned the same thing to me... and I worked for a call center once and have been told several times by customers to slow down 😂

Top three fictional universes: MCU, Narutoverse, and GOT (I guess)

Tagging: @raleigh-edward @robintora @suoirallesalta @lolimugly @brycesgirl @penda-bear ✌️

#tag tag tag

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kari-a-la-tari · 4 years ago

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The (Unneccessary) Lore of the WG Spanish Dubs

Aka me being like this meme for an entire post

OKAY so a couple of weeks ago I had just learned that there existed a Spanish version of Wordgirl called “La Chica Supersabia” which is honestly super cool cause who doesn’t wanna hear their show in a different language?

But alas, this ended up taking me into a much deeper rabbit hole than I was expecting and it’s honestly pretty interesting so I thought I’d share it with y’all!

DISCLAIMER: I am not an expert by any means nor do I intend to come off as one, this is simply an elaborate essay of what I’ve found through my informal research. I will also be translating anything in Spanish to the best of my extent, so I apologize if I mess up a bit with the wording since it’s not my native language.

So then *places a baseball cap with glued lightbulb on my head* let’s get started shall we?

Okay so first things first, there are a couple of select episodes of La Chica Supersabia (I’ll use LCS from here on) available on the internet. The most reliable source that I’ve found is on an old Facebook account here where a fan would upload LCS episodes based on when they aired. However, the only episodes available are a select few from season one.

Now this got my mind thinking “Hey, what if there’s more episodes?” So naturally, I started scoundering on Google (like the rat I am) to see if there was indeed more. And according to this one site there are only two seasons of LCS that were dubbed.

Translation: In Latin America, the first season premiered on Discovery Kids August 3, 2009, while the second season premiered on the same channel January 11, 2010, being the only two seasons issued. (Source)

However, later on I discovered that there was some mislead in that info because someone else found a Spanish episode that was from season 3, which doesn’t make sense because why would there be another season available when it clearly says that they technically shouldn’t exist? (Btw I tried finding it myself cause I did see that episode before but for some reason now I can’t find it dhdvvdbdvd 😭)

At first I thought maybe this is just some info added from a fan. After all, that statement was posted on a Spanish Wikipedia page so it is possible. So I began looking for other articles that talked about the Spanish dubs, but they all said the same thing. Well, until I came up with this site that said two very intriguing things:

Translation: The series actually had 3 seasons and is dubbed in Caracas, Venezuela. On May 2012 the series stopped running on daytime hours and was removed from the programming one year later, on June 17, 2012. It is unknowns if it will be aired by another channel or come back to the Discovery Kids programming, besides only the two first seasons were dubbed in Spanish. (Source)

I was a little bit confused here with the wording because it still didn’t confirm my original questions; if anything it left me with more. But then I read the next section below which got me completely off track.

Translation: The series received negative critics and complains on behalf of parents of families in Latin America that claimed that it wasn’t appropriate for the objective public of Discovery Kids. Without doubt in the U.S. the series had been well received and even won an Emmy award for Jack D. Ferraiola, writer and coproductor of the series together with the creator of the same show, Dorothea Gillim, who declared the following in respective to the series: (Source)

Now this one took me by a whirlwind: WTH why was this version hated by people in Latin America while it’s adored by everyone in the U.S.?? And I watched some episodes of LCS and while the dubbing is pretty funny (lol) there wasn’t anything inappropriate about it. For the most part they stuck on script with the original episode they had to dub.

So I dove even deeper...

And o h m y g o d there is an answer to this.

Translation: The program premiered in Latin America on August 2009 on the Discover Kids channel, aiming at pre schoolers. Although the channel gave a lot of promotion for the show during the final months of 2009 and the majority of 2010, at the end of the year they decided to change the programming to nighttime hours because the show received a lot of critics from parents saying that the show was too “violent” and that it encouraged kids to lie to their parents (due to the obvious fact that Becky had to give an excuse everytime she had to leave to turn into WordGirl and save the day), and they complained constantly on the message boards now deleted of the channel. The program was eliminated completely on June 2012, without doubt, PBS maintained the Spanish dubs so that they would use for SAP (Second Audio Program) in the U.S. in a different studio (Dubbing House in Mexico and later Lorry Post in Miami, FL), but the program no longer returned to Discovery Kids until August 2014. (Source)

And DUDE no y’all this was just a complete hilarious yet ridiculous slap to the face. I mean..what the, why was that the reasoning as to why it was hated so much? Just cause of some literal PG kid friendly cartoon violence? And what do parents mean when they say it teaches them to lie to their parents?? I mean with all due respect, who was Discovery Kids target audience they had in mind vs. what it actually was? Because if there actual audience was very very young kids, they okay sure I can understand the need to point fingers at them in that sense. But if it was for slightly older kids (8-10 years old), then I think that parents can probably show kids at that age the reasoning behind why Becky lied in the show (not to mention that most kids at that age can understand what’s going on for the most part).

“Now is this actually true?” some of you may ask, which is understandable since this is coming from a wiki page. Well, I think it’s about time I put another disclaimer: sadly for the most part, the majority of these sources that I’ve attached have broken links when it comes to their references. And the ones that aren’t broken don’t mention anything about the topics that have been discussed here. But there are some smaller sources I’ve found here (look at the last three comments) and here that do indeed confirm that the show was canceled due to the force of parents.

However, the current grey area I’m in still is on the Spanish dubbing listing. See, I originally thought that there were three different dubbings according to this one post below (M&M Studios, Dubbing House and Lorry Post). I even thought I cracked it since according to this chart below the rest of the seasons were under the Dubbing House studios! However, it turns out that one of the studios Lorry Post doesn’t actually exist. Like nothing related to dubbing came up at all when I searched it up.

Translation: Dubbing Studio 1 - M&M Studios (Seasons 1-2). Dubbing Studio 2 - Dubbing House (Seasons 3-8). Dubbing Studio 3 - Lorry Post (Season 8 - final episodes). (Source)

And then that’s when I took a harder look at this website and realized that it’s part of a Spanish Wiki page called “Propuestas de Fans de Doblaje” (Fan Proposals for Dubs). *insert facepalm emoji* And just...I honestly feel so dumb that I didn’t notice that detail when I did my initial research cause that would’ve saved me a lot of time 😤. Anywho so that explains the Lorry Post mystery, but then lies the other question: do the other dubs exist?

Well, this is where I draw the line. See, on that same wikipage, it mentions that LCS had completely different voice actors for each of the dubbings. The first dub (M&M) is from Venezuela and after looking at the VA’s, they can be traced back to LCS. But after looking at the VA’s for the second dub (Dubbing House) in Mexico, there is nothing related to them and LCS or WG. Not even on movie databases.

“Now are you gonna give up on this idea?” you may ask. And the answer is......

No.

Why? Well, it’s mainly because there is a compellingly set of evidence that proves that the first two dubs do actually exist, which is...

youtube

THIS VIDEO, which shows that there were not one, but two variations of the LCS Spanish theme song. The first one is the Spanish version, and the second one that plays is the Venezuela version. And if you can remember, there were 2 dubbings of LCS; one located in Mexico (Dubbing House) and another In Venezuela (M&M Studios)!

Anywhosole, that is where I conclude this elaborate essay of mine. There are still a couple of loose strings here and there that I wanna check out myself but I’ve already tired myself out with this essay. I hoped you liked seeing me lose my mind speculate on the LCS episodes! This was honestly pretty fun ngl, maybe I’ll try doing this again in the future if something else interesting pops up! If you have anything you wanna add or maybe point out something that I may have forgotten, please by all means bring it up!

#warning: I have already lost my sanity over this entire essay /hj #my discord peeps have already been exposed to a good part of this already a heh heh #but I have learned some new things so this is more of an updated version for those who wanna see me lose my mind 🙂#AGAIN #wordgirl #word girl #wordgirl lore #theorizing cap time!!

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hansolmates · 5 years ago

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vernon; blossomed (m)

feat. tattoo artist!vern x flower shop fem!reader based on nonnie’s big brain

genre/warnings: flangst, lang, wild generalizations of how tattooing works, gratuitous love for side characters, mild drinking, phineas and ferb references, mild foreplay

word count: 12k

Vernon called you his Rose.

Not exactly his Rose, because you were definitely not anyone’s property and he wanted to give you nothing but your full autonomy, but it’s because he’s never had the chance to ask for your real name.

But when he first spotted you in the little lavender and honey colored flower shop across the street, you were tending to the rose bushes at the front entrance. You were cutting roses and you didn’t look utterly graceful, in fact you stabbed yourself more than once with the thorns. He couldn’t help but laugh when you laughed when your co-worker had to hand you a new bandage every minute.

He decided then that he liked you, even if it’s not wholly sexual or romantic, he liked you.

Or maybe he just liked the idea of you, the way you’d lounge around in the canopy swing with your boots tucked under the seat, fluffy yellow socks wiggling out in the sun. Sometimes you’d read a book, sometimes for well over an hour. He liked how you soaked up the heat and created your own little world, happily unproductive.

It was only a seven meter walk from the flower shop to the tattoo parlor, but the view from his front window required zero walking distance and a sure-fire lack of ever bumping into you.

“Vernie’s got a crush on the Flower Girl,” Yoongi sing-songed, chugging along a box full of random-ass materials that Vernon was supposed to clean in the morning.

Vernon scowled, and swatted away the older one’s hand when it dived in front of his face.

Yoongi whistled like he was an old-time animation, singing the day away. “Vernie’s stalking his crush.”

“I’m not stalking,” Vernon snapped, swiveling around in his rolling chair. “that involves shit like literally following her around, photography, I dunno, being a weirdo?”

“You definitely qualify for one of those.” Yoongi replied tartly, and he fought the urge to grin when Vernon finally turned back to the window, only to narrowly miss your form. The swing was now unoccupied, the only thing remnant were your working boots lined up against the entrance. “It’s been what, two weeks? Just ask her out already.”

“You think I would’ve done that by now if there wasn’t a reason why?“

Soooo you were dating someone. Some super tall, super handsome guy would stroll up to the flower shop every morning, coffee in hand. Before you’d take your proffered coffee, he’d pucker his lips for a good-morning kiss in repayment. Vernon looked back to Yoongi, who was staring right back at him and confirming his suspicions that yes he was being a fucking weirdo for paying attention to things like that.

Yoongi pressed his lips together, puffing his cheeks out in slight irritation. “So you’re stalking a taken girl,” he whistled lowly, “should I regret hiring you?”

“Not funny.”

“As repayment for effectively creeping me out,” The older one slipped his hand into his electric yellow windbreaker to twirl Vernon a ring of keys. “You’re closin’ up for tonight.”

The brunette’s jaw dropped to his lap, and he got up from his spot by the window. “What? What happened to Minghao?”

“Sick,” Yoongi shrugged.

Closing up meant that Vernon had to stay until 12AM, at the very least. The area was off a college town and that meant a lot of young lucrative artists would stop by pretty late, hence the closing time. Usually Yoongi and Minghao were the night owls, but tonight Minghao was supposed to fly solo because Yoongi landed a last-minute recording gig. “C’mon, can I at least close early?” Vernon whined, “it’s summer. No one’s here.”

“What, ya gotta date or something?” Yoongi smirked, swinging the entrance open. Halfway out the door, he added loftily, “don’t forget to water Patricia. It’s been two weeks.”

The door slammed and Vernon was left alone. He spared a glance at the window, only to see that your boots were now gone from the patio and only one light was on in the shop. Vernon turned to his company for the night, their jade succulent, aptly named Patricia Planty.

With Patricia Planty watered and a stomach full of Wendy’s nuggets in his body, Vernon busied himself up for a grueling five hours. Thankfully he brought in his laptop, as if he were expecting Yoongi to pull a fast one on him tonight. He drew some random things on his tablet: rockets, stars, the occasional squirrel, and roses. When he was tired of drawing, he’d blast the speakers off the joint and mess around with some of his music programming. When he was tired of doing both, he’d vegetate on the couch and read Reddit articles.

It was past eleven when the first customer of the night stumbled in. Vernon fought the urge to groan, putting down the pen of his tablet on a particularly intricate constellation.

“We’re closed!” He yelled through the office door. A white lie, but who would know?

“Google said you were open until 12!” A voice yelled back, sounding slightly strained.

Crap. Vernon lowered the volume and pushed away the swivel chair, swinging the office door open. With a rough clear of his throat and hoping not to look like too much of a jerk, he faced his customer, “Welcome to Nu ABO—”

It was you. Cheeks ruddied, and your eyes glassed with a fresh glaze of tears. Your lower lip worried into a wobbly frown. Vernon’s Reebok’s glued to the concrete of the parlor, effectively stopping him in his tracks. The smell of mulch and a mixture of flowers penetrated his nostrils, but it did nothing to distract the utter hurt etched on your face.

“Um, hey,” his voice was gentle, yet unsure. “What are you doing here?”

You just looked at him, incredulous. Vernon could have sworn he saw your left eyebrow twitch. Of course, you’ve never met him in your entire life, yet Vernon felt like he knew you since the beginning of your summer work. “Gettin’ a tattoo.” You replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, rubbing away a stray tear.

He didn’t want to say it, but Vernon sighed and reasoned, “But it’s just that, ya kinda look—”

You brushed past him, going straight into the artist room and plopping on the worn leather chair meant for customers. It was still high up because Vernon was cleaning the underside of the metal, so you had to do a little hop to get on. “I don’t care what kind of design. I looked up your Yelp online and everything looked pretty good.” And you then proceeded to unbutton the top of your blouse.

“Holy shit,” he bounded over to you, grappling his fingers between your shirt before you could undo the rest of it. His breath was probably hot and heavy, compared to yours which was fresh from the cool summer air. Your faces were so close, closer than he ever fathomed. He didn’t think you two would meet this early in the year, as he was emotionally preparing to visit your flower shop at the end of the month, making up some spiel on how he needed to purchase real roses to replicate a commission. Not now. Now was a spontaneous episode, where he was trying to refasten your shirt and ignore the petal pink lace of your bra baiting his eyes.

When he sensed that you would in fact, stop taking your shirt off, he backed up. “It’s just that, after eleven we don’t really apply tattoos. We just take consultations.” He tried to sound defeated, rubbing the back of his neck. Again, another lie. But Vernon wasn’t about to ink you on the spot, especially when you looked like this.

“Is it because I’m upset?” You cried, “because I assure you, I’m in the right mind!”

He winced, lolling his head back and forth. “That’s debatable.”

You frowned, “C’mon, I have money. Just do me this one solid.”

“What? No, you don’t even know what you want!” Vernon was exasperated. Not that he imagined the first time meeting you would be a walk in the park, but at the same time he wasn’t expecting to argue with you.

"Don’t you want to be part of my spontaneous young life? Give me a tattoo that I’ll think about with my children 30 years from now?” He would laugh if you didn’t look like you were crying a river ten minutes ago. “As long as it’s not a tramp stamp, because I don’t think I can pull that off—"

"Did you break up with your boyfriend or something?” Vernon blurted out before he could regret it.

Your face morphed into something Vernon couldn’t understand. Pain, for sure. But a sort of relief knowing that you didn’t have to hide it. “Damn,” you give him a tired smile, “does the whole town know or something?"

You cried again. This time, Vernon reacted quicker. Pulling out a Wendy’s napkin from his flannel pocket, he proffered it to you. He was thankful you didn’t question whether it was clean or not (it was!) and you proceeded to cover your snot and tears all over it.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

You sniffled and blew a particularly large chunk of snot before you shook your head.

"Do you… want fries?” He gestured to the small table in the room, which had some leftover fries from his combo. “I can heat ‘em up in the microwave."

Due to the fact that you ran out of tissue room, you rubbed your face with the entirety of your sleeve. You peeked out mid-rub, and replied with a soft, "hell yeah I do."

His heart twitched. Even betwixt your teary expression, you were so freakin’ cute. He shuffled back to the office, nuking the leftovers in the microwave until they were piping hot. Vernon waited a bit for them to get cool, and fiddled with the music so a soft R&B playlist bounced off the walls. He couldn’t believe you were here. Scratch that, he could, because you were bound to run into him one day due to pure proximity.

But he didn’t imagine you’d be plopped in his artist room at 11:32, bleary eyed and shoving potatoes in your mouth.

Vernon busied himself with his phone, and typed a hasty you wouldn’t believe what just happened… to the employee group chat.

[June 11, 11:33PM]

Bo$$ man: dont tell me u put aluminum in the microwave AGAIN

Hao hao: the chinese mafia came for me, didnt they? good thing I called out

Jeonghan is a prick: use your resources! sharp items are everywhere :) emergency money is under Patricia’s table

Bernie: tf is wrong w all of you

Bernie: SHES HEREEEEEE

"M'sorry,” you mumbled with a mouthful of fries, breaking Vernon from his mid-text crisis. He felt his phone buzzing like hell as he shoved it in his pocket, but ignored it for the sake of you. Your previous high of emotions has long worn off, and now you were looking a little embarrassed as you fixed your gaze on the empty container of fries. Your face is blotchy and red, and you’re especially puffy due to the salt you just consumed. “I should go home."

He didn’t want to be intrusive, but the look on your face showed it was clear that you didn’t want to go home just yet. Drumming his fingers against the metal table, he casually suggested, "Why don’t I do your back?"

You looked at him like he was crazy. "You still wanna tattoo me? After I cried like an idiot and ate your fries?"

"You’re not an idiot for being upset. And I offered you my fries.” He pulled out an ink canister, and a thin needle. “This is temporary ink we use to practice, or for customers who wanna test out the look. Lasts one to two weeks. And y'know, it’s a nice distraction."

You looked skeptical, unsure of his kindness. "Why my back?"

He shrugged, "It’s the biggest canvas. And if you don’t like it, you don’t have to look at it."

Still, you’re not convinced. There was something strange about him, something almost too sweet. While your schema may be marred by television and movies, the man in front of you didn’t seem like he quite fit into this little shack. He’s full of color, in his eyes and in his stature, his words clean and pure as he tries to soothe your aching heart. And as much as you tried not to check him out, you spotted no tattoos on any viewable part of his body.

"And it’s kind of cathartic, really.” He watched your lips quirk up in a smile at the word usage. Not only sweet, but probably smart. Your first smile all night. Cheeks effortlessly heated, he continued, “you kinda just let go into the feeling. And it’s always fun to not know what’s been drawn until the very end."

You’re curious. There’s excitement in your vision as he gestured to the available cot, inviting you. "Alright. Ink me up."

Vernon grinned, and started preparing the workspace. Handing you a medical gown, he quickly shuffled away to prepare the ink and needles. He didn’t really work with the clients as deeply as this, he was really just a glorified secretary that took care of the consultation. While he washed his hands, he heard the faint rustle of fabric, definitely your shirt and bra. He turned up the temperature of the water, acutely aware of how hot his hands were getting.

"Um,” your voice is muffled from being pressed up against the cot, your face presumably propped with pillows. “So are you Yoongi?"

"Nah, I’m Vernon.” He wheeled over a cart full of supplies, the metal clanging against the concrete. “’M usually the guy who wipes the sweat off his brow."

You hummed your own name in response, resting your cheek in the plushness of the cotton pillow. There’s a number of sounds paired with the R&B in the background. The smack of Vernon putting on gloves, the click of the needles and the slickness of the balm Vernon has applied on your back. His touch was warm, as his palm crescents across your back to soothe the balm into your skin. He then wiped it down with a paper towel until your skin was smooth and dry.

"Any ideas yet?” He asked, and from the corner of your eye you see him switch out a needle for a new ink pen.

“Maybe, stars?” Your voice is muffled against the cushions, as you’re hugging them close to your body. “And maybe something inspired by Spiderman? I liked that new one with Miles, he’s a cool one."

You could hear the smile in his voice, "I liked that one, too."

You stuff your own smile in your pillow, how embarrassing could it be that this stranger can make you feel better so fast? Mingyu would be groveling if he saw you now, topless, letting a man ink you up in however way he wished. "Will it hurt?"

He chuckled at that, "Nah. The ink will sit on top and sink in, I barely have to apply any pressure. Just relax."

Under the discretion of Vernon, who offered you fries and liked Spiderman, you relaxed. The first stroke of the needle and you were a goner. You closed your eyes and let him do his thing, You couldn’t tell what exactly was going on through his mind as he was painting your back, but you could tell his art was rather cacophonous: stiff pokes here and there, smooth strokes, and wide breaths of ink staining your back. The ink melted into your skin, bonding to your cells under Vernon’s careful control.

It was almost 1AM when he finished. He tapped your back, urging you up. Tired, and slightly dazed, you sat up. You realized a little too late that you’re only wearing a thin hospital gown, the straps having fallen midway through the process. The air was cool against your skin.

Vernon totally would’ve gotten a complete view of your sideboob if he wasn’t blushing like a maniac and looking away, and you respected that. His arm is punched out, fisting your button down. You hastily snatched it away, and turned around in order to look decent.

“The ink won’t show up fully for another six hours, so until then let me know how you like it.”

“Thank you so much,” you smiled gratefully as you do the last button of your blouse, and pulled out your phone. “Do you accept Venmo or Cashapp?”

“Oh, yeah.” He accepted the proffered device, and put in the necessary charges.

Once he gave back your phone, you added a sizable tip to the price he typed up. “The time really flew by,” you noted the time on the corner of your phone, 1:07. “It was really, an experience like you said.”

He shrugged, and threw you an easy smile. “I try.”

"Can I get a real tattoo from you someday? Y'know, when I’m ready?"

"Ah, no. I’m not really under the apprenticeship.” He looked bashful when he said it, as if he were caught doing something wrong. “I just work here for the part time money. I do art on the side, though.”

You had the urge to ask what he doesn’t do on the side, but it was late and you were probably holding up the poor guy for your trivial questions. “Regardless, I’m still thankful it was you that did this for me.”

In three strides, he opened the small door for you. “My pleasure. Have a good night. Or, morning. Or if you’re one of those people who don’t consider it morning unless it’s light out, then good night?”

“Good night,” you giggled, “get home safely.”

“You too.”

The screen door slammed shut behind you, along with the main door. Your car is parked in the grass patching of the flower shop. You jogged over, and the summer air made you shiver, your back still raw and warm under Vernon’s touch.

You couldn’t wait until the flower shop closed.

If Wonwoo noticed that you moved the porch swing relative to the placement of Nu ABO, he hasn’t brought it up. You weren’t spying on Vernon, no. But your skin was starting to itch with curiosity and in your haste to leave last night, you didn’t even ask what he designed on your back.

“Are you stalking the tattoo guy?”

Despite the voice being petal soft, you flinched. Assistant Manager Joshua Hong with a bouquet of boat lilies, was accusing you of stalking. His Converse tapped rhythmically against the wood paneling, looking down at you like a guilty child.

“What?” you floundered, waving around the florist magazine in your hands. “Josh, I’m studying! And the sun was in my face so I moved the swing.”

“You’re studying,” Joshua flickered his eyes to the run down shack across the road. “The tattoo guy?”

“I already said I wasn’t!”

“Then you’re telling me you spent all last night doing that,” he reached over to tug at your starched work collar, “all by yourself?”

Your hand flew to your neck, as if you were trying to hide Vernon’s hard work. “I just wanna see what he did, all right? And I’m trying to be very patient until closing because if Wonwoo sees me going there,” you jerked a head none-too-gracefully at the direction of the parlor, “he’s gonna tell you-know-who.”

Joshua frowned, because he already knew. After all, he stayed in the back room with you all last night, wiping away your tears. “Well, whoever did it is truly an artist,” he said genuinely, “it’s beautiful.”

Joshua finally left you alone, and you suddenly felt emptier than before. Sure, the breakup with Mingyu was conventionally bad, but why were you so conflicted with your feelings? You didn’t want Mingyu to know you were hanging out with other guys, but you wanted to let go of him. Maybe you were trying too hard too fast.

But Vernon made everything so, so easy.

No, you are not letting him be a rebound. The inner conflict in your head was giving you a massive headache, you couldn’t tell if the vibes you were feeling last night were because of the recent breakup or just an authentic spark.

The storm door shuttered boldly, and you jumped. Wonwoo stepped out, and gave you a weird look. “You alright?”

“Me? Yeah, fine.” You gripped the collar of your shirt and pretended to fasten the buttons.

He was unconvinced, either that or the pinched look he was sporting was an indicator of a bad day. “Listen, I know things are gonna be weird because my best friend is your, y’know,” he trailed off, painfully trudging through this conversation as easily as trudging through quicksand. “He’s gonna stop by a couple more times during the week, doing me a few errands. So if you wanna take the week off, recalibrate before the the month ends, just let me know. ”

“Won, please,” you wanted this to end, “we don’t have to talk about this, alright?”

He awkwardly twirled around his car keys. “Alright.” As simple as that, he threw himself in his sedan and drove off, dirt brushing the pavement.

You glared at the dust cloud until his car was far from your sights, the mustard color blinding your vision. “Honestly,” you said to yourself, finally hopping off your swing into the direction of the shack, “he thinks I’m five and never experienced heartbreak.”

“Welcome to Nu ABO!” this voice was different, and you slowed your steps. It doesn’t quite have the husk that Vernon’s voice held, but definitely matched the energy. The boy stepped out, and his eyes sparkled in recognition. “Flower Girll,” he said to himself, and you suddenly felt like you got caught, “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

"We haven’t,” you replied warily at the pet name, “where’s Vernon?"

"Oh, he’s around.” The guy waved noncommittally to the air in the room, crouching his head to look down at you. He stuffed his hands in his black overalls, which covered a painfully bright rainbow tye-dye tee. “Curious to see Vern’s ink though. He’s only ever done small stuff.”

“I thought he wasn’t an apprentice.”

He flicked his wrist around to show you a beautiful line of Chinese calligraphy. "Keep the secret between us, ‘kay?” He winked.

“Minghao, leave her alone.” Vernon stepped out of the small bathroom hidden in the artist room, a white towel behind his neck. You took in his disheveled appearance. His face was red from washing his face, and he wore the same clothes from yesterday. “Hey.” He said.

“Hi,” you replied, “did you sleep here last night?"

"Uh, yeah.” Vernon rubbed at his neck again, and stuffed the towel in his backpack. “I usually do the morning and afternoon shifts, I covered for this guy last night,” he jabbed his fist in Minghao’s shoulder, “but still had to do my day shift.”

“So,” Minghao rocked back and forth in his boots, “why are you here?”

You suddenly felt self-conscious, and gripped your phone between your two palms. A little part of you was disappointed that Vernon was not alone, but another part of you was relieved. It helped slow down the pace of your feelings (feelings?) that was heading in a direction you were not anticipating. “I wanted to say thank you again for last night.” You coughed, and Minghao grinned wider at your explanation. “And I was wondering if you could take a picture of my back? I haven’t had a chance to look at it.”

He beamed, and you could tell he was happy that you wanted to document his work. “Oh, of course! I completely forgot last night.”

Vernon moved to grab your phone, but Minghao swiped a hand in front of him. “Can I take your photo?” He asked you, although the look in his eyes said that you didn’t have much of a choice.

Your cheeks burned at the sudden intrusion. “Huh?”

“I mean, have you seen this guy’s Insta?” Minghao scoffed, albeit playfully as Vernon mirrored your flush.

“What are you talking about?” Vernon exclaimed, thoroughly insulted, “my profile is tastefully abstract.”

“It looks like it was tastefully done by a three year old.” Minghao pulled out his iPhone, and adjusted the filters. “I’m doing you a favor here, Flower Girl.”

You looked warily at Vernon, who slumped in defeat, “If you’re going for that e-girl vibe, I guess Hao’s a better photographer.”

“Better than your pictures coming out blurry.” Minghao shot back, holding the camera to your face. “There’s no light in here,” Minghao glared at the singular window in their tiny studio, the sill decorated with a single jade succulent. “Got any ideas?"

Vernon shrugged, "You said I have the taste of a three year old, so."

With Wonwoo gone for the day, you realized that you did have an idea of where you could take a tasteful picture. The thrill excited and terrified you. You only wanted a simple picture to see what it looked like, but Minghao looked as equally as excited to see your ink. Maybe it was the fact that the art was fleeting or that Vernon was really that talented, but it encouraged you to offer the setting up.

"I think our greenhouse has plenty of light,” you gestured out the studio’s only window, which was in perfect view of the flower shop. “We should be closing up soon, so it’s free."

Minghao nodded approvingly, "We can try."

And with a hasty "be back @ 4:20!” sign taped on the front door to Nu ABO, the three of them walked across the street to the greenhouse.

You went in first, nearly bumping into Joshua who was bent over, pot in hand.

“Hey Josh,” you grabbed the keys from the front desk, “borrowing the greenhouse."

"Hey Josh,” Minghao and Vernon mimicked, who found it amusing that you just brushed by without an introduction.

You rolled your eyes, hearing them exchange pleasantries and bro fists. The plexiglass doors to the greenhouse unlocked with a turn of your key, the smell of heat and grassy rain hitting your nostrils. Joshua placed the pot somewhere, following suit as the boys were right behind you.

“Awesome,” Minghao exhaled, stepping further into the greenhouse. It was a small one, but comfortable enough for a couple patrons to browse around. “I’m gonna move around some plants if that’s okay, I gotta vision.”

Joshua looked a little frazzled watching Minghao talk to himself and start moving the settings around (“The hydrangeas don’t go there, are you crazy?”) and started helping Minghao move the pots and placements around. You and Vernon hung around the entrance, giggling to yourselves.

You tried to bump his shoulder, which didn’t even reach his. “So, what’s your Insta handle?”

He quirked his brows at that, “Why, so you can judge my aesthetic too?”

“No,” you replied, faking your shock. “I would never insult your taste!”

With a roll of his eyes he said, “Speaking of taste, since your shift is over and my shift is over,” Vernon rocked back and forth on his feet. “Wanna grab a bite?”

Something’s fluttering in your stomach, and you stomp it down. It’s an innocent invite, yes. Unfortunately it was not-so-innocent in your twisted mind knowing that you are still fresh from a breakup, yet your backed is marked with Vernon’s work. “You must be tired though,” you tried to reason, “you should get some rest, I don’t wanna bother you.”

“Not a bother,” he said immediately, “besides, I wanna ask you something.”

That got you curious. Before you had a chance to ask, Minghao was ushering you over, telling you to stand in front of a bundle of orchids. They’ve bloomed a Canary yellow, encasing you in a golden ring of flowers overlooking the terrace. The new friend has gestured for you to undo your shirt and he turned away in respect. It’s different with an audience and an expectation. You made haste to undo the buttons of your blouse, then your bra, throwing it aside. You felt the warm, moist air kiss your back, and you heard a low whistle coming from Minghao.

“Beautiful,” Minghao exhaled, “Vern, you’ve outdone yourself."

Beautiful. Vernon made you beautiful.

Your body was simmering, and you could do nothing as you let Minghao photograph you. You focused your eyes on a puddle dripping from a faucet in front of you, counting the seconds between each droplet.

“And, done.”

You shoved on your clothes, and felt extra awkward as you fumbled to reach for the straps of your bra. You nearly slipped on the puddle as you walked back to the boys, who were busy over Minghao’s shoulder.

“Super awesome,” Minghao handed you the phone brightly, “so much texture and feeling.”

The screen showed a halo of foliage that surrounded your bare back, blush orchids kissing the frame with color. Your work shirt bundled under your hips, and fell under your elbows to reveal a city sky. You were breathless, zooming in to capture every detail of the ink. A navy sky, blanketing buildings across your back in a diagonal, splaying from the bottom right to the top left. On the bottom, skyscrapers reaching for the stars.

If you zoomed in enough, you could tell that the stars were shaped like roses.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve said thank you in the past two days,” you started, causing Vernon to grin widely. “But thank you, I’ve never felt so beautiful.”

Vernon scoffed, “I didn’t do anything, I’ve only enhanced your beauty. That’s our shtick.”

You handed Minghao back your phone and thanked him. He then rushed off, saying he had to stay at the parlor since Yoongi was coming soon. Immediately, Joshua began putting back the plants in their rightful places. You and Vernon followed suit, starting with the smaller ones.

“So,” Vernon picked up a tray of succulents, ��are we still on for dinner?”

Wide-eyed Joshua crept in-between the foliage, laughably appearing under a series of hanging plants like a madman. “Dinner?” he asked, looking between you two.

“Yeah man,” Vernon reached to pull Joshua away from the plants, “wanna come?”

Simultaneously disappointed and relieved, you let out a subconscious exhale. Joshua was coming, which meant that there would be no possibility for feeling weird (or catching feels), being awkward or fighting any oncoming feelings with Vernon.

"On Thursdays there’s this really good half-off sushi deal by my place. We can take out and eat at my apartment?” Joshua’s kindness was palpable at the offering of his home, and the both of you smiled gratefully.

Not more than two hours later, the three of you are bundled away in Joshua’s two-room, empty boxes of carryout stacked high. The television was playing reruns of Full House, the only source of light in the dim space.

“Are you gonna go home soon?” Vernon asked, and turned his head to the corner of the room. Joshua is cuddled up in the single couch, tucked in a wearable blanket with the armholes.

You shrugged, “I dunno. Usually I crash here for sushi nights,” you patted the couch lovingly, “This is my second bed.”

Vernon chuckled, tucking his feet under his thighs. It made him look impossibly small in comparison to how tall and lanky he actually was.

“So, what did you want to ask me?”

Vernon looked between his legs, as if he were trying to piece his words together. “Long story short, I got waitlisted at my top graduate school option,” he then pulled up his phone, revealing the picture of your back that was taken that afternoon, “but I was thinking that if I made a portfolio of this kind of art, it would really tip my application over the edge. Originally I was thinking of just sending my usual art, but it just popped in my head today while we were doing it.” He looked up through his eyelashes, wisps of copper looking expectantly at you. “If you’re comfortable with it, would you be my canvas?”

“Live art,” you surmised, “honestly, I’m honored that you would want me to be a part of something so big. You think I’m that good?”

No, you weren’t doubting Vernon’s art one bit. The fact that your back would be out on display for a bunch of strangers was unnerving, to say the least.

“Are you kidding?” Vernon zoomed out of the image, revealing the curve of your back and the generation of life reflected in the greenhouse. “This is wicked. You’re stunning. We’d make a great team!”

You felt your body heat at the statement. His presence was almost too refreshing, and you wanted to return the favor of helping you out last night.

“Lucky for you,” you shot a quick text to Wonwoo, “I’ve planned to take this week off.”

Over the course of the week Vernon wanted to do an artistic timeline of sorts, adding and retouching the already existing ink on your back until the canvas was full. It felt fulfilling, letting yourself become a vessel of success for someone. The following day, Vernon shot you a text revealing his portfolio, and said how excited he was to see you.

You met in the shack after his shift, and Vernon let you into the office and locked the door. You can hear the rap being played in the artist room where Minghao and Yoongi were working with a client.

The artist was muttering to himself as he invited you to sit at the couch. Something about whether he wanted to start from the “top-down” or “bottom-up.” Instead of contributing to his madness, you turned away from him and started shedding your shirt. Today was a plain cotton shirt, and you shucked it off and balled it in your arms.

No less than five seconds was Vernon’s hands on your back, and despite the warmth radiating from his fingertips, you couldn’t help but shiver. Vernon had explained that while he did a large portion of your back the first time, there was still room for growth and he wanted your back filled by the end of the week.

“Do you mind if I,” his hand hovered over your bra.

You shook your head, and with his thumb and forefinger he flicked off both your bra straps with ease. Your hands flooded themselves in the fabric of your t-shirt, which silently accepted your death grip.

“Sorry, do you feel weird?” He definitely sensed your lack of vocality, and put one strap back in case.

“I’m fine,” your voice is light, what else could you say?

“Whatever you say,” he hummed, and resumed his work.

You opt to take in the sounds. Minghao laughed about something in the other room, coupled with the zing of the needle. The music pulled to a stop and boomeranged back into a smoother arrangement.

“I think we’ll start from the bottom-up and build from there,” he then placed his hands around your waist, poking at the dive between your waist and your bottom.

There’s an unmistakable heat that pooled within you, which caused you to wring your shirt harder. It was going to be a long week.

By Wednesday, he was in your apartment, working on the sides of your waist. The day after every session, Vernon would take a picture of yesterday’s work and show it to you. A gummy grin would always take over his face, either proud of himself or happy that you loved the new addition.

Despite the fact that the only thing covering your body was a thin gown medical taken from the shop, every pore of your body felt unbelievably hot. You really shouldn’t be mixing alcohol on a Wednesday night, but Vernon was excited that he was halfway done with the project and it was time to be “poppin’ bottles.”

You felt a little drowsy as a result of that, but nothing terrible. Like he said, the feeling was cathartic.

“Aren’t you drunk too?” you murmured into your navy blue whale plush, “what if you accidentally stab me?”

Vernon laughed, and it shook the couch. You couldn’t see his face as he sat on the floor, getting in the crevices of your skin. He poked at your skin a little harder than usual, as if he were testing the possibility. “That’d still take a lot of strength.”

“You’d be surprised,” you sighed, “those little sticks florists use to keep the babies upright? Flat as a thumb and I still manage to impale tomatoes with them.” He doesn’t respond to that, and you’re left drowning in your own answer. You wondered if he truly thought you were a crazy tomato-killer, or was concentrated on detailing a particular patch of skin. “Can I tell you a secret?” you blurted, “honestly, I think flowers are beautiful, but I really hate working at the florist. The only reason I’m doing it is because Joshua really needed the help and he knew I wasn’t going to do shit until my city job starts in September.”

“Huh,” Vernon stopped, resting the heel of his hand on your back. “That’s funny. Explains all the cursing when you’re cutting roses outside.”

“You’ve watched me outside?” you grinned into your cushion, “creepy much?”

“Do you wanna know a secret?” Vernon blurted, evading your question with one of his own, “I’ve had the biggest crush on you since you came by in May.”

You tensed, and if Vernon noticed, he didn’t react. He kept on doing his business, marking your back with baby’s breath. It had to be the alcohol talking. If he drank at all, you couldn’t even tell because you couldn’t get up and he was strikingly coherent. All this time, and you didn’t even notice?

“You don’t have to answer,” he said, as if he knew you were strung speechless. “I just, wanted to say it. We’re cool.”

And you agreed, pretending to fall asleep.

Friday was around the corner before you knew it, and Vernon wanted to photograph the final piece where it all started. The greenhouse was devoid of human life at the crack of dawn, unless you counted Joshua who was asleep on the counter because he was the only one with a key that knew of your recent escapades with Vernon.

Vernon was just as tired as you are, but he was adamant about having the photo taken at dawn, as the first picture was taken in the late day. There was some contrived symbolism attached to it that you didn’t really understand, but you trusted his vision. Besides, your panda eyes wouldn’t be revealed in the photo, so you could master the art of sleeping upright while he took photos.

“Alright,” Vernon set up his camera. He was dressed in a university zip up and matching sweatpants, like he just rolled out of bed. “Everything’s set up, whenever you’re ready.”

Likewise with you, and you pulled off your hoodie, not bothering with a bra. Despite the fact that the room was temperature controlled, the cold morning air still managed to worm its way to your bare top. You quickly rubbed down your gooseflesh with your palms.

You two engaged in a comfortable silence as you tested out your poses and he adjusted his frame. After a couple of practice shots, the air seemed calmer.

“Cold?” Vernon asked casually.

“Anything that isn’t under the sheets of my bed is cold as hell,” you muttered, trailing your fingers delicately across your waist.

“That’s a nice pose,” Vernon said to himself, “we’re almost done. Then you can go to bed for the rest of your day. Unless you’re down for breakfast?"

You two still haven’t spoken about his little confession the other day, but in all honesty there was no reason to bring it up. Your lives were going in different directions, and you knew Vernon deserved more than a halfhearted summer fling.

"I think I’m down for bed and breakfast,” you replied wryly.

“Smart girl,” Vernon chuckled, “can you change your pose for me? Like, pretend that you’re stretching.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that, so you ended up flexing your arms in different directions.

“No, we’re not doing yoga.” He let his camera swing around his neck as he rushed over to you. The sun was a soft white, the antithesis of golden hour as you two rushed to make the magic happen. He grabbed your arms from behind, twisting the left wris in an unusual angle.

"Ah, Vernon!” You jerked around to face him, now fully awake. “I’m not a Barbie doll, you can’t just move me like that."

Vernon doesn’t respond. He let go of you as soon as you screamed, eyes blown wide and pupils a thick black. His stare is frozen to yours, and his hand is in mid-air, a centimeter away from your bare breasts.

"Oh,” you said, “did I whack you with my boob when I turned?"

"Yeah, you boobed me.” Vernon looked afraid to stare anywhere but your face. “I’m so sorry."

"It’s okay,” you bit the inside of your lip, “I don’t mind if you touch me there."

Now, Vernon looked terrified.

It’s been a long week. A long, surreal week. You wanted to tell Vernon about your conflicted feelings, you wanted to ask about his little crush, and what on earth did he find appealing about you. You wanted to tell him how much you trusted him with your body, and how you wanted him to do more to you than just ink.

It’s then, the gaping boy shook himself together. His hands encircled your neck, haloing at the finishing piece of his work, an echelon moon. Vernon’s fingers trailed to cup your face, and you felt your whole body warm in anticipation. Patient, you waited for his carmine eyes to flutter shut, and you smiled, finally closing yours—

"The fuck is this?"

In an instant, the air was sucked out of you like a blackhole, and Vernon immediately shielded you, throwing his jacket across you like a towel.

"Mingyu,” you said shakily, clutching the cotton coat tighter around your form.

It’s then that a no-longer bleary-eyed Joshua stumbled into the greenhouse, seconds too late.

Mingyu threw down the sack of fertilizer he hauled on his back, black dirt smattering the floor. “Its been barely a week and you’re fucking someone in the greenhouse, of all places?” Mingyu was angry, plain and simple. “I thought we agreed on a break."

"You agreed on a break,” your thighs were numb from leaning on them, but Vernon’s hand on your back encouraged you to get on your feet. “I agreed that two years was too long to wait."

"And who are you?” Mingyu squinted his eyes at Vernon.

“He��s none of your business,” you stepped in front of him, tugging his hoodie closer around your frame.

Mingyu’s face fell in realization, and he looked between you two with forlornness that made your stomach churn. “C’mon baby,” your nails embedded themselves in your palm at the jab, “can we go outside and talk about this?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” your voice was paper thin, but loud enough for Mingyu to hear across the room, “I’d prefer you leave us alone, and do not talk to me ever again.”

It took all your composure to turn around, and you glared a hole into Vernon’s chest. You felt your body bleed goosebumps around your arms and legs, not out of weather, but out of anxiety. You hugged yourself to shut the prickly feeling down. You heard Joshua do the only helpful thing this morning and it’s his soft utterances that finally pulled Mingyu out of the greenhouse. ,

What’s left is the drip of the hose, and the two of you, unmoved.

Thankful for the silence, you looked up at your companion, who was speechless. Vernon’s lower lip was puckered out slightly, face contorted as if to say I’m sorry, that kinda sucked. The tell-tale signs of emotional overload began to prick at your eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you wiped your face. Since when did you start crying? “I’m so sorry that I let all of this happen, and I let myself let this happen, and I’m such a mess and I’ve been trying to hide it all this time, but I’m selfish and I just wanted to see what would turn out of it.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Vernon tried to lighten up the mood, and offered you an easy smile and reached for a hug.

“I’m sorry because I don’t know if I like you or not!” you outburst, and pushed him out of arm’s reach. “I feel so fucking guilty I just got out of a relationship and I can’t tell if I like you or I like your attention, honestly. And it isn’t fair because you’re just so sweet and kind and easy to love. Either way at the end of the summer I’m moving into the city for my full-time job. And I, I, I don’t know!”

Vernon forced his way into your space, barely a foot apart. He didn’t touch you, but his warmth still emanated from the jacket you were wearing. He didn’t seem upset, then again you were probably upset enough for the both of you.

“Hey, I offered to do your back because I knew you needed a distraction,” Vernon said softly, “no strings attached, ever. You do you, right? Focus on yourself.”

You wished he was mean about this. It would’ve made it easier. “What if this is the last time we talk? What if I want to ignore you for the rest of the summer?” you murmured, already knowing you. should enjoy these final moments.

“We’ll live,” he shrugged, and finally broke the space between you. His lips planted themselves between your forehead, melting away the lines that marred your brows apart, “and we’ll heal.”

The city was daring. The city was unforgiving.

You tugged your scarf closer around your neck, which constricted your airflow but also prevented any possible windchill from slicing your neck. In your other hand you were hauling a week’s worth of work in a luggage that had once packed your things in August and sent you to this very career path.

As much as you loved your new life, you wished things would be a little more boundless. The box of your workspace, the box of the elevator, and the box of your goshiwon apartment were starting to feel particularly stifling this weekend.

It was Friday (or FriYay, as your co-workers dubbed) and that meant a weekend vegging out with a comfort meal and a new movie. There was a Burger King and a Gongcha under your apartment complex, both calling your name.

Boba and burgers, the perfect way to end a week.

You munched on your fries as you scanned the Gongcha menu, craving something sweet to contrast with your salty meal.

It is then a low, sultry whisper sauntered in your direction (in a Gongcha, with children) and you almost choked on your fry. “I would know that back anywhere,” the offender drawled.

What a strange pick-up line. The paper bag crinkled in your grip, and you turn around to see a familiar perky face in a scarlet Adidas tracksuit. Of all the places, he was here.

“Hey, Flower Girl.” Minghao greeted, wiggling his fingers in a wave. He was on a tall stool, long legs splayed out and a cup of oolong milk tea hung lazily in his grip. His cup was at least 50% ice, and he was shaking the cup like a rattle every ten seconds.

“Normally, people would start with a simple hello,” you replied wryly, ushering him over to wait with you in line.

“Normally,” Minghao shrugged, and slipped an arm around your shoulders as if you were long lost friends, “how have you been doing? Planting gardens for the spring?”

“Please,” you scoffed. To Joshua and Wonwoo’s chagrin, you’ve forgotten a lot since the summer. “I can’t even make a corsage anymore, my brain’s on overload. What about you?”

It looked like he was waiting for you to ask that. You barely got your order in before he started spitting out his story. “Didn’t you hear?” Obviously you didn’t, and he didn’t give you a chance to answer. “Two letters. RM.” Again, nothing. “The RM? The hottest rapper in Korea? Anyway, he was one of our clients in August—he got a sick design of a koala and an alpaca, cooler than you think—and gave us a massive tip on his Instagram story. We were famous overnight! We were getting crazy clients left and right—fuckin’ Sana wanted a little heart on her sternum, hottest thing.”

“So you were able to relocate the parlor to the city?”

“The big push was when Yoongi dropped RM his demo,” he shook his cup furiously, ice clanging, as if he never got tired of this story. “Like, I didn’t even know they were texting! I’ve been running the parlor mostly, I’ve always wanted to live in the city, but RM funded a lot of it and is helping Yoongi make his mix.”

In the back of your head, the question of an aspiring grad student was niggling in your brain, but you pushed it down. “So, if Yoongi’s working on his demo and you’re supposed to be running the parlor, why aren’t you there now?” you asked.

He stared at you as if it were the most obvious choice. “Because I’m here, drinking boba with you.” Minghao then grabbed your finished drink from the employee’s hand, ushering you out the door. “And now you’re going to follow me, because my break was over fifteen minutes ago.”

“What?”

“I have your boba,” he’s already out the door, waving your precious beverage like a fish to its line. “Hurry up, now I’m sixteen minutes late!”

You groaned, lugging your suitcase full of work and now cold french fries back into the freezing weather. The wheels of your suitcase are cracking in exhaustion, mirroring yours. You just wanted your damn milk tea, hot fries, and a Netflix catch-up. What was the point of following Minghao to Nu ABO, when there was no reason to be there other than …

“Oof!” your face slammed into Minghao’s back. The light was red. “Did Vernon move here too?”

“Duh, who else would be covering for me?”

“You’re trying to set me up!” You cried in betrayal, jabbing him in chest with your finger. “Y'know what, I’m just going to get another boba. You keep that.”

You two glared at each other. Minghao looked relentless, ignoring whoever was bumping into him on the streets. His eyes suddenly glinted to your rolling luggage, and he snatched it from your grip, running into the streets.

“Can’t replace your work, right?” He laughed, forcing you to chase him down the block.

You felt sweat start to develop on your back, contrasting with the icy weather. Your work blazer and pinstripe loafers were not suited for vigorous activity. Minghao has an unfair advantage, being tall and athletic, and you had just finished half a bag of Burger King. Damn him.

Minghao stopped in front of a sunken in building, with stairs leading downwards to a neon-lit parlor with the name glittering in electric periwinkle font. Flustered, you gasp at the cold air, finally able to stop. Despite having lost your breath ten meters ago, you managed to tell Minghao you’re proud that they have a real parlor.

Your heart was beating in your ears, and you can’t tell whether it was because you haven’t worked out in months, or because Vernon was behind that door.

Minghao dumped your luggage behind the reception area, and went straight into the artist room. This new parlor was much bigger, so when Minghao disappeared into a hallway he was out of your sight. You wait around, letting yourself sink into the familiar hip hop playlist. There are pictures littering the walls, all covered with a clean black frame. You see Yoongi and the supposed RM, sporting his koala and alpaca ink (which actually did look sick) and some photos of Minghao’s work, all of his designs being simultaneously colorful and graceful.

It’s then in the epicenter of this wall is a long black frame that cut across the horizon, seven images of a woman with flowers and stars inking her back.

Your back.

“Beautiful, right? I’m sure it takes you back.” Minghao was over your shoulder, flicking his fingers between the photos. “Lots of customers have requested these designs. He never makes them the same way, though.”

Instead of answering, you followed Minghao down the hallway and into the artist room. Vernon had just finished with a client. Poking in head first, you saw him ticking off protocol off a printed list, speaking concisely. The client was listening intently, and you see he has an arm sleeve with peonies. It’s then he noticed Minghao intruding once more, and frowned.

“Dude, you got milk tea without me?” Vernon said, affronted.

“Ya didn’t ask.” Minghao vigorously shook the ice in your tea like a baby rattle.

“You didn’t mention it, therefore I couldn’t have asked.”

“You’re so smart, Hannie,” he beamed at him like a proud parent complimenting his son, “that’s why he’s going to grad school.”

You let yourself in fully, and you felt shy as Vernon’s lips parted slightly upon realizing who his second guest was.

“Hey,” Vernon exhaled, and gave you a small smile. He looked happy, content. As handsome as ever, he ran a gloved hand through his hair, soft curls bouncing as he shifted around the parting. “This is uh, a surprise.” his eyes flickered to Minghao, who held his arms out in a passive shrug. “A good one to end the week.”

“Hi,” you bit your lip, feeling shy, “so, you decided to get certified and you’re going to grad school? I missed out on a lot.”

“That’s okay, we got time.” Vernon assured, “besides the fact that I got a project due tomorrow morning that I’ve barely started, and then I have a field trip I gotta go to on Sunday—”

Before it could drag on any longer, Minghao hacked out a very loud, and very fake cough. You broke out of the rêve, and muttered a “gimmie that” before snatching your precious bubble tea out of Minghao’s hand.

Vernon mirrored the cough, more out of embarrassment than annoyance. “Lemme finish up with this client, yeah?” And he jerked his head back to the patient, going on about safety.

Minghao led you out of the room, whispering a “you’re welcome” in your ear that taunted you for the rest of the night.

Vernon finished at 5, just like he did back in the little shack at university square. He came out in a 2XL neon green hoodie, leading the client out the door and telling him to “take it easy”. As soon as the client’s gone, he comes over to you. You’re still staring at your pictures, as if you couldn’t believe that you were on display, looking like a tasteful nude model.

“Hi again,” he said, dusting the imaginary dirt off his pants.

“Hi,” you replied, feeling tingly at the sound of his voice. Did you really miss him that much?

"Um, is it cool if I hug you?"

It certainly has been awhile. You nodded, unsure if you could form a coherent response because you could tell Vernon was blushing and he was being too damn adorable for you to handle.

Upon permission, he brightened. The warmth of his cotton hoodie enveloped you like the way hot chocolate feels after a cold day. You breathed in his scent, realizing how much you missed the scent of fresh laundry, especially on him.

"How are you?” He asked casually.

“Uh, m'okay.” You answered softly, “a little cold nowadays."

He hugged you tighter in response. With one more squeeze he let himself go, but kept you at an arm’s length. "Wanna get dinner?"

You looked at him funny, "didn’t you say you had a project due tomorrow morning that you haven’t started?"

Without missing a beat he altered, "Wanna get takeout? I’ll do work and eat while,” his eyes darted to your luggage, “you do work?"

While you wanted to say that it was Friday (FriYay!) and you weren’t planning to open Pandora’s Box until Sunday night, you obliged and followed him to his place.

On the way over, Vernon got his well-needed milk tea (and your second round) with two matching cartons of jajangmyeon. You trailed behind him rather than next to him, due to the fact that he was also lugging a Joshua-sized canvas on his back. In fear of being knocked out or ruining his work, you settled for walking a meter apart.

Vernon lived on the second floor of his complex. You imagined a sizable one-room similar to your goshiwon, but you’re in awe when you see a fully furnished living room and kitchen. You smiled at the singular jade plant decorating the windowsill, one you remembered as Patricia Planty one session months ago. The hardwood was so shiny you could see your reflection in them. Kicking off your shoes, you stumbled over the kitchen countertop, reveling at the onyx granite.

"I’ve never seen this much granite in my entire life!” You cried, spreading your hands over the cool rock. It was so well polished, you could see your reflection. He was certainly living the high life this year.

Vernon shook his head, setting the take out down and pulling out the containers. “It’s RM’s old place. I rent it out with the guys."

"God, this is ten times better than my place! Your kitchen is bigger than my apartment!"

He flicked your bowl of jajangmyeon over to your side of the countertop, the sauce and noodles premixed for you. "Eat up, babe.” He stuffed a radish in his mouth, now working to mix his own noodles, “we got a lotta catchin’ up to do."

Whether it was your hunger or the casual use of the word "babe”, you abandoned the granite for now and did as told.

An hour later, you’re flipping through their mounted TV, taking full advantage of their Disney+ subscription as Vernon is laying on the floor.

“I thought you were working,” you chastised, letting yourself sink further into their couch. It was like resting on a big, fluffy marshmallow. You never wanted to leave.

Vernon is splayed out like a starfish, papers and watercolors spread around him. His large body stood out against the white linoleum floor, his neon green hoodie reflecting on the shiny surface. “I am.” he replied blandly, “I’m waiting for lightning to hit me with a burst of inspiration."

"Grad school’s biting you in the butt?"

"Big time."

Another bout of silence hit the two of you, and it was surprisingly nice. You finally started to notice that Vernon is picking up some art utensils and is doodling something. (He still is on the floor and hasn’t sat up properly, but progress is progress.)

It felt oddly domestic, but you didn’t mind. There was no need to ask about the past, Kim Mingyu, or any other silly drama you two entrapped yourselves into last summer. What mattered now was the warmth of each other’s presence on this chilly night.

Your eyes are heavy and fighting against the long day, and before you know it, you’re asleep just as Rapunzel escapes Gothel’s tower.

You haven’t awoken to the morning sun in a long, long time. While the notion sounded awfully depressing (because it was), you really didn’t have much of a choice because the goshiwon was closet sized, and closets had no windows. But today, the sun blasted you, forcing you up. This was accompanied by the the tell-tale sounds of breakfast, which was weird because you only ever ate cold food in your room, because there was zero ventilation. The scent of dark roast muddled your senses, forcing you awake. You twitched at the sudden stench, and snapped your back straight. Were your walls always this pristine white?

"Didn’t know you were this early in the game, Flower Girl."

You never went home. While Vernon was long gone and probably off presenting some haphazard art, Minghao and Yoongi (for the first time, in the flesh!) were watching you from their marbled island, while you rubbed the crusties out of your eyes. "Usually, encroaching on a significant other’s apartment is reserved for the 5th or 6th date.” Minghao teased, waving his Nutella toast in your face.

“Oh, shut up,” you glared at Yoongi, who was slowly chewing on his own toast. There’s was black spark in his eyes, like he’s relishing on whatever has unfolded. “And you, you. I know this is the first time we’ve met and you haven’t said a word. But shut up too. Your thoughts are awfully loud.”

You’re embarrassed, and you pull up your hands to mediate your fired cheeks. Instead of your palms, you feel worn cotton dabbing at your face. You wiggled your fingers under the neon green hoodie. Vernon put on his clothes for you to wear. You were in a very uncompromising position, and his roommates were reveling every second of it.

Yoongi shrugged, throwing you a flippant grin. “Whatever you say, Flower Girl.”

Contact emerged in the form of texts and images. You wondered how Vernon managed to keep things casual in light of how sudden your meeting was, but you relished in the way things fell naturally.

[February 19, 2:10PM]

Vern: Is this still your number

Vern: If so, here’s what i submitted for my project

Vern: IMG.934

Vern: if not, pls enjoy this picture of a pink platypus. the medium was watercolor nd if you’re curious, i got the idea from sunsets and phineas and ferb. Enjoy your day

You: hey look, there’s perry

Vern: nice

Vern: wait, this doesn’t confirm if ur u or a stranger

Vern: are u just a perry enthusiast

Vern: evidence pls

[February 19th, 6:08PM]

You: IMG.48

[February 20th, 12:22AM]

Vern: ooh

Vern: look cute in my hoodie

You’ve toggled with the idea of just cutting straight through the bush and asking him out the next time you see him in person. A little part of you liked the chase, however. That feeling where you’re tugging between friendship and something more, and you can’t help but feel like you’re fifteen everytime his name popped up in your messages. You self-dubbed it the-honeymoon-to-the-honeymoon phase.

[February 27, 5:34PM]

Vern: what are you up to

You: it’s hour 32. I’ve been under the covers and have survived solely on celery and honey-butter chips. currently binging all netflix comedies. debating on whether to send for help otherwise i may never get up

Vern: that’s the spirit

By the time two weeks passed, you felt confident enough to ride off the mutually weird text messages and constant contact to meet with him. By then, you’re knees deep in the honeymoon-to-the-honeymoon phase. You’re languidly floating in that river, hoping you’re not rushing it by agitating the waters.

[March 8th, 10:10PM]

You: hey

You: you up?

Vern: nah. mastered the art of sleep textin

You: just wanted to ask if you could help me pick out a tatt that would fit me

You: if you were available. I’ve heard from the mullet-monster that you’re a hot commodity drowning in appts and deadlines

Vern: wait forreal?

Vern: i can pencil u in. tomorrow night @11?

You: so soon? What happened to being busy

Vern: not for u. Already have an idea in mind

By the time you arrived Saturday night, Minghao was slapping your back across the door, gabbing on about a “major banger” they were missing uptown. He looked the part, the only person you knew that could fill out an all-studded denim fit. Like a disco ball at a rodeo. He barely said good-bye before he hopped in a Lyft, cheering for freedom.

You poked your head into the artist room, and saw Vernon playing on his phone. His fist dug into his cheek, carob pupils glazed over. You almost felt bad for wanting his attention this late.

“You usually do the day shift,” you commented quietly, holding up a bag with two milk teas in hand.

Vernon looked up, illuminating in a half-smile. “Y’know me, always covering. Just for the hour though, this shouldn’t take long since we’re just looking at ideas.”

He slapped a hand on the client chair. This one was much better than the cot they had in their shack. This one was pure leather and gleamed high quality. You placed your drinks on the countertop and eagerly bounced onto the seat. “Comfy,” you murmured, and wriggled your sneaker-clad feet.

“Good,” there’s a sharp snap from the plastic seal and Vernon is sipping into his milk tea seconds after you put it down. He’s chewing on a particularly large gulp, gnawing on pearls like no one’s business. With his rolling chair, he slid over to you, seamlessly reaching for your wrist.

If he noticed that you’re wearing a particular neon item, he doesn’t comment. He turned on the overhead lamp, letting a soft white light bathe your form. When he finally spoke, he chanted your name in a sing-song, tapping your wrist in beat. It’s as if he were envisioning the color blooming on your skin.

You let him do his thing, and he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery. You see pictures of his friends, some of his family, and digital art. He scrolled slower at the myriad of images: a colorful orca, lavender constellations, and budding roses.

You were seeing a lot of flowers nowadays, with the burgeoning of spring and the recent ending of Valentine’s. It’s only now that you notice how apparent the theme is throughout the parlor, particularly in Vernon’s affinity.

“Why don’t you call me it?” you asked softly, peering over his form to see him mulled over a picture of periwinkle lupines.

“Huh,” he’s distracted, and has now swiped back to the colorful orca image.

“Flower Girl,” you uttered, “they call me that, but you don’t.”

Vernon clicked his phone down, the lupines flicked away. He peered at you through his lashes, the white overhead making his eyes appreciably bright. “Before I knew your name,” he started slow, making faces to himself as if he were debating on whether to tell you, “I’d call you Rose. You were always by the rose bush planted outside the shop.”

“Avoiding work,” you crinkled your nose, however relished in the endearment, “being named after a rose is too big a compliment.”

He snorted, “That’s what they said. Hence, Flower Girl was born,” he’s easy about it, but now he’s put his phone down and is rubbing circles in your wrist. You wonder if he felt how clammy your palms were getting from the minute intimacy.

“You know what flower I’d compare to you?” you asked, “freesias.”

“And what do those mean?”

“Thoughtfulness,” the pad of his thumb still lingered on your skin, his grip painfully apparent. “And renewal.”

“Why renewal?”

“Because,” you swallowed, “you make me feel renewed. And this time I’m sure it’s because it’s you.”

Vernon looked like he wanted to smile, trying so very hard not to embarass you whilst you poured your heart out with delicacy. His coral lips were tucked in a thin line, teeth biting at his lower lip. Drop by drop, he was going to accept that dew with as much care as possible. “Only me,” he inquired, pressing into your pulse.

Your mouth was sand dry. “Uh-huh.” You exhaled a breath long clutched in your throat, hot air fanning into Vernon’s face. He paid no mind, and (to no avail) was still trying to hold in his smile. “You’re dimples are showing,” you whined, poking the little dip in his cheeks with your free hand. “Use your words.”

“Like?” he elongated, playing dumb. You supposed you earned his brand of torture, after all, seven months is a long time to make up for.

“Like how we want the same thing?” you tried.

“How do you know I want what you want?” he feigned, furrowing his thick brows. Acting could’ve been another career possibility for him, portrayed by the way his eyes were blown with confusion, his mouth parted like a kitten.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Forget words!” you broke, nearly shaking from the nerves.

It’s then that Vernon finally gave you a concrete response. His grip on your wrist was near painful as he eagerly tugged you closer, kissing you. There’s enthusiasm in every action from the way he pulled you closer, large hands melding to cup your cheeks. A little part of you is both breathless and invigorated at the energy stinging the room, and you can barely keep up until Vernon spilled kisses down your neck.

He threw up the armrest holding him back, tucking his knee between your legs as he lapped you up, kissing you fully. The chair was much too small for the both of you, his large body pressing you further into the cushions.

He sat up a bit, bumping his head on the lamp. He paid no mind. “By the way, I like you, too.” Vernon puttered cheekily, rubbing his scalp. Just as swiftly, he latches onto your neck and sucks at a sensitive spot. You can feel his teeth showing from the smile in his kisses. His thumbs rubbed lazily over your jaw, enjoying the feel of your soft skin under his rough palms.

“Really,” you exhaled, relaxing against the headrest as Vernon’s wandering hands traveled lower. “Had no idea.”

“But I’m happy,” Vernon is fumbly and sweet, mumbling in the crook of your neck while his fingers toyed with the waistband of your sweatpants, “happy you’ve healed, and happy for us.”

He’s excited, almost too excited. The space between you two was warm, the lamp beating under your skin, awakening something between you two that was left behind that summer. It’s as if winter left him dormant, and you were the fresh flower waiting to be bloomed under his touch.

“Are you always,” you gasped, two fingers already worming their way inside your panties, “talkative at this part?”

“Not if you wanna talk,” and the ever-zealous Vernon Chwe gets to work, sticking out his tongue in surprise when he finds that you’re already drenched. “Shit, you’re so beautiful,” he holds onto that word dearly, and pressed his forehead against yours, “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to hold you like this,” he reached for your delicious bud, and you felt your senses flower into pleasure.

He makes a noise, low in his throat as he watched you melt against the seat. “I like you like this,” he said thickly, his voice matching the slick sounds emitting from yourself. “Comfy, relaxed. You always looked so stuffy in those work suits,” you feel wholly undeserving of this worship, as he licked a long strip from your collarbone to your neck, “would love to help you chill out a lil’ more.”

A whine bubbled from the back of your throat, your eyes rolling shamelessly as you feel the pads of his fingers working circles between your folds. “Ah, I’ve—I’ve fantasized about this,” you confessed, “every time you’d ink my back. At one point we just stopped covering myself with those stupidly thin gowns. All you had to do was turn around.” Vernon blinked rapidly, mental pictures ticked like film in his pupils. His hands stuttered across your slick, inserting two fingers between your folds as you continued. His pace was slow, yet purposeful as he made sure you felt him with every thrust. Rings adorned his fingers, and the cool sensation surprised you. You shivered in pleasure. “Mm, I’ve imagined us kinda like this in that little shack, hard against the cot overlooking the shop,”

“Dirty,” he said, as if recalling the weather.

“And ah—wondering what kind of tattoos you have,” and in your haze you reached for him, your hand gripping firm at his gunmetal belt buckle. You tucked your fingers between the button of his light wash jeans, palming the telltale signs of something hard, “please? You’ve done too much for me, lemme return the favor.”

“Not now,” he pressed his forehead to yours, “you can guess my ink on our way home.”

“Wha?“ You’re dazed, feeling warm with affection and drowned in the moment. You feel his fingers, slowly pumping out of its rhythm and resting on your thigh. You groaned at the premature end, his shiny digits resting on your fleece sweats.

“They’ll kill me, this is new leather,” Vernon said, “and now we can afford security cameras, which are so small even I can’t find them.”

“Unbelievable,” you laughed. You’re not frustrated, only endeared.

“Besides, I’d rather have our first time somewhere private. Undisturbed,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, "somewhere where there’s lots of granite."

You melted, pulling at his collar to pepper kisses on his nose. The mention of coming home to his pretty kitchen was icing on the cake. "You know how much I love your granite."

(After your granite fantasy was fulfilled, you spent the rest of the weekend huddled in Vernon’s room. You’re living off take out and mutually satisfied with the unhealthy means. When you’re not eating or watching movies, the two of you are drafting your first piece.

Freesias and pink roses.)

(His tattoo was also very cute.)

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