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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

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Little Border Town Pt. 3

Summary: It begins with a man and a woman, as it always seems to. One lives in France and the other lives in Italy, technically, but they’re also neighbors. Various issues arise between these two and they can’t ever seem to see eye to eye on anything. Will they ever move past their petty fighting or is the little town they live in doomed to only gossip about what Harry and Y/N are fighting about today?

Part 3: the one with the boat and the beginning of a storm

IT’S BEEN AGESSSS I AM SO SO SORRY I LOVE YALL SO MUCH AND EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER READ THIS THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT

also harry is wearing this fit in this part just no tie?? i think i cant remember

college has been incredibly crazy this year already and i just dont have time to write like i did before i went back. i honestly had this mostly finished and i havent reread so i have no idea what even happens so lmk what you think, i can’t imagine that it will get a lot of notes but if it did id be very happy about that - anyways lots of love and feedback appreciated as always...pls enjoy

Word Count: 6.6k | Warnings: ?? Swearing? idek, more yearning bc slow burn

Catch up here! part 1 | 2 |

“Isn’t the weather not ideal for boat sailing today,” she ponders as her face looks up at the sky. She’s walking into Harry’s store again after running back to her place to grab a jacket and lock up. She placed a notecard in the door’s window that says “closed today, see you tomorrow” with a smiling face as punctuation.

Harry grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had sailing boots on his feet with a smart big-collared printed shirt and marigold trousers. Instead of a belt, he had suspenders that matched the color of his pants and a pearl necklace as his final accessory other than his rings. He must have repainted his nails this morning because they were a light lavender shade that hadn’t been noticeable last night.

“It’s just fine. We’re entering fall and the sun is out today!” He gestures to the sky above them and she nods in agreement that the sun is indeed out. However she wasn’t sure if she’d categorize it as a nice day to go out on the sea still. With the sun there were also many clouds, they were mostly white and fluffy, but she was sure they could turn sinister any moment.

“Ready?” He beams.

“As I’ll ever be.��

On the boat, Y/N felt her stomach churning. Was she giddy or unnerved? Likely, both.

Harry was tying the boat off the dock after helping her onto the deck. It wasn’t a huge boat, not a yacht or anything, but it also wasn’t a tiny sailboat. It had an upper deck where maybe four people - at most - could comfortably be. Then a lower deck, inside a hatch in the upper deck. She couldn’t discern how much space was down there, but she was sure Harry would show her. He was talking through everything he was doing on the boat. Ad nauseum for an extremely nontechnical girl, such as herself.

Still, she sat in the spot he had directed her to next to the closed hatch and watched him move gracefully around the boat. Maneuvering the sails and different parts of the boat was a dance for Harry. Each step, each twist and knot, moved by a song unknown to her. It was beautiful. He was completely in his element, surprisingly. Again, Harry surprised her. She knew he had a boat, but whenever she thought of a jerk with a boat she didn’t think of what she was seeing with her own eyes. It was beautiful - or at least, it would be, if he’d shut his big mouth that was now making her roll her eyes as he made a pun about boats.

“So,” Harry starts finally, finishing up whatever he needed to do to get the boat off the dock and on the path he wanted. They were moving out into open water, she could see the little town, but it was growing smaller by the minute. Her stomach churned again as she looked up at the man she had just trusted to take her out onto the ocean. She grimaced slightly at the thought.

“Do you want to see the inside?” he continued.

She nods eagerly, “Finally!”

He chuckles lightly before opening up the hatch and gesturing for her to go first. She looks at him hesitantly.

“This isn’t a trap right? It’s not going to be all...murder-y down there?” Her voice is pitched higher, she’s almost completely serious.

This time Harry’s laugh comes from his belly, almost doubling over at the word ‘murder-y’. Between laughs, he tries to reassure her. “God no...oh my god.” More laughter, then a deep breath. “The only evil entity on this boat is the diavola I invited on here,” he gestures to her standing in front of him and her eyes narrow. Displeasure washing over her features.

“You’re ridiculous,” her hand swats at his sternum before she turns from him and climbs down to the underdeck area.

When she’s down, she’s surprised with her surroundings and she doesn’t notice Harry follow quickly behind her. It’s neat and stylish. Well, she’s not completely surprised, Harry was very fashionable. But the neatness dissipated all thoughts of the improbable scenario where Harry had lured her on his boat to murder her. It was what she had been freaking out over when she had at first refused to enter.

There was a small daybed at the end of the hall that doubled as a couch, a door to a bathroom, a dining area, a kitchenette, and then the random area they were standing in. It wasn’t super spacious, it was a hallway with things around it, but it was clean and it smelled nice. Everything had a place and they were neatly put in their places. After a moment, she turned at the feeling of Harry’s presence behind her.

He grinned, scanning the areas her eyes had just taken in for the first time. His green eyes were filled with admiration. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, smells like you.” She nods matter of factly.

“Huh?” His head whips to her, sure he hadn’t heard her right.

“The whole place is very you,” she looks away from him and walks down the hall to the daybed and takes a seat, “Styles-ish.”

He follows quickly behind, shaking his head out of his own thoughts.

He mumbles a thanks, not catching the play on words she’d used with his last name. She smiles to herself, pleased. He stands in the doorway, not really wanting to sit beside her. Maybe he didn’t trust himself with being in such close proximity with her anymore. No, not after last night.

Her eyes widen slightly when he leans against the doorway and crosses his arms. The sleeves of his button-up had been rolled up when he had been working with the sails. Her lips suddenly are dry and she wets them with her tongue, eyes moving to the fabric of the blanket she’s sat on top of.

“I meant to say,” Harry breaks the silence, obviously not a fan of the quiet. A hand leaves his pose and runs through his hair, rings classically tugging at his curls. He swallows before he speaks again, “Thanks, uh, for stopping me last night. That would’ve been weird…”

He trails off and her eyes go wide again, but now they’re trained on his face. His eyes are downcast now, watching the way light plays off his rings. She tries to make out the sound in his voice, the expression he’s trying to hide with indifference. Her teeth tug her bottom lip into her mouth as she thinks, silence once again taking hold of the small, small room. The air is tense, static, unmoving, the complete opposite of the water that rushes just outside the walls of the boat.

She clears her throat and Harry locks eyes with her, “No problem...alcohol and atmosphere, clouds the head. I get it.” She did, but she also hadn’t wanted the gratitude Harry had just placed on her.

“You booze, you lose,” he smiles, straightening up and she looks at him quizzically.

“That’s such an odd phrase.”

“No it’s not!”

“It’s a play on ‘you snooze, you lose’ right?” She leans forward, face looking smugly up at Harry’s offended face.

“Well, yeah,” Harry admits.

“I can’t believe you made that up and got it tattooed,” She states breezily and then stands. She brushes past him to look around the rest of the cabin.

Harry scoffs, not even noticing the way her fingers had brushed over his naked forearm as she passed, too focussed on his indignation. “How’d you know about the tattoo?”

“Naked neighbor? Never closing his shade? Do you seriously need a refresher course already? Seriously, boat boy, I really thought you were smarter than that,” She talks as she snoops around the different parts of the cabin. She pokes at figurines and looks at little photos and paintings. Her head looks over her shoulder and she laughs happily at Harry’s face of irritation. It was so easy to push his buttons.

“Don’t call me boat boy,” he seethes, but she knows he’s not really mad. More like he’s a child who got told no dessert before dinner. A laugh rocks through her body again and bubbles to the surface. It causes Harry to soften, this time there’s no alcohol in his system to account for the feeling he just felt. He mirrors the smile she has. That is until she reaches the kitchenette and finds a rack of CDs sitting beside the sink.

She turns from him and begins to leaf through them, most of them are artists she recognizes. But then she reaches some that are just titled “Demo” with various numbers beside the word. Her fingers nimbly pick out “Demo #1” and turn back to Harry with an inquisitive gaze. His green eyes are bigger than usual, the smile gone from his face.

“These from the boy band days?” She smiles wider as he turns a little red. She crosses closer to him, remembering the sight of a cd player in the main area where the entrance to the cabin was.

“Erm..no.” She flips around again, confused again, but then it dawns on her. “Demos for my solo work.”

“That you put on hold to take over for your Uncle.”

“Great Uncle.” He corrects.

“I know.” She waited a second, where she was about to be quick to play the CD, she now wanted to get Harry’s permission. It might be a little more personal than she had first thought. “Can we listen to this one? You’d technically be taking me up on the request to play for me sometime.”

“Yeah, they’re rough - obviously. So if you could try to not bruise my ego, at least not more than you usually do,” he grins and she looks at him with dead eyes. A smile cracks on her face quickly, still.

“I wouldn’t...this is different,” she struggles to find the right words. She would never make fun of something he cared a lot about, not now. She wasn’t that person, it was odd to think he maybe saw her like that. She shook away the thought and focused on placing the CD in its player correctly.

The first song begins to play, he’s right it is rough, it’s a demo. There’s no backing vocals or beat of any kind. Just a voice and a guitar. And it’s amazing. After the guitar intro, she lets out a breath she had been holding when she hears the voice. His voice. It’s beautiful. And she’s shocked, her eyes flash to Harry. He’s nibbling at his bottom lip, watching her hear it for the first time. His voice from all those years ago.

“Brooklyn saw me empty at the news, there’s no water inside this swimming pool.”

Her eyes light up again at the lyrics and she smiles, finding it melancholic yet slightly funny at the same time. It was interesting, the words, his voice, the meaning. Some bits of information eluded her, but she knew she enjoyed the song.

“And I’ve been praying, I never did before.”

Even as the song moved on from this one lyric, she felt it replaying in her head as she watched the singer in front of her. Years older than he had been when he had written this song. She was filled with questions and paused the CD as the guitar faded out.

“That’s it?” Harry laughs, “Just one song? It was really that horrible?”

“Oh my god, no!” She is emphatic, needing Harry to understand she’s serious. She takes a step closer to his figure. He had traveled closer to her while the song had played. They were almost chest to chest and her hand goes out to touch his forearm. “I really liked it, genuinely. I just needed a moment before the next one.”

“Bracing yourself?”

“Stop, I’m serious. It was beautiful. Your voice is wonderful, Harry.”

His eyes sparkle at the praise, finally believing she’s not taking the piss. Then his eyes dropped from her gaze, “I was a lot younger then, was 21 I think when I recorded this demo.”

“So? A voice like that doesn’t just disappear, dude.” She looks at him with a finality in her expression before dropping the hand that was firmly gripping his tattooed arm and turning back to the CD player.

Harry bites his lip as another one of his early songs plays over the shoddy speakers. His voice repeats “Meet me in the hallway” over the solo guitar. There’s no echo or bass, no count in like the final song was supposed to have. It’s just him and his guitar, before he chose to leave it all behind.

His voice is sadder here, she notices and she visibly winces at “just take the pain away” and “just let me know, I’ll be on the floor” and his repetition of “gotta get better.”

How did this man, who seemed fazed by practically nothing, have so much hurt in him to write both of these songs? Her eyes welled with water, but she blinked them back still staring at the singer before her. He was watching the CD spin in the player as his voice came through the speakers. He was lost in thought, in memory. Maybe she was lucky, these weren’t memories for her, she was only hearing his interpretation of his life. She hadn’t had to live that pain first hand. This time she doesn’t pause before the next song.

The next one seems more produced than the last two. This one starts with drums, a step up from the last two acoustic demos in respect to production. A big crash and then a wailing guitar and an accompanying voice. His voice is stronger here, more sure of himself. And then it changes again, melancholic once again and her heart strings are yanked at again.

“We’re not who we used to be, we’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me, trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.”

The guitar continues that sad tone for a riff and then goes back to strumming beneath his voice. She shifts her eyes to him again and sighs softly, it weighs heavy on her soul that the man next to her has seemingly been through so much heartache. He looks up at “We don’t see what we used to see” and she holds his gaze, brows knit together in confusion and sadness. She pauses this time, finger reaching out without looking.

“This is depressing, please tell me they’re not all sad songs or I might as well have turned on a pet rescue commercial.”

His smile etches on his face, in a small knowing smirk and he crosses into her personal space. She’s about to step back, but he reaches out and softly bats her finger away from the pause/play button. She smiles back, shuffling to lean against the counter beside him. It was unusual for them to be on the same side of the counter, much like last night at the bar.

“There’s six songs on this demo. Three sad, three…” he trails off, looking at her expectantly. She nods. “You gotta learn to be a little less impatient, hmm?”

“Not impatient, just trying to brace myself for more sadness. I thought I had been promised a day of fun,” she grumbles.

“I wasn’t the one who suggested a demo listening party,” his brows raise and she twists her mouth to the side at his smug response.

“True,” she finally concedes with a murmur.

He presses play and a new song comes on that is more upbeat than any of the other’s that have played so far. It also seems to be a bit more produced than the first two. Her hand rests on the countertop and begins to tap, she quirks her brow at the first lyric “she’s got a family in carolina, so far away, but she says I remind her of home.” A girl who likened Harry Styles to the South of the United States, interesting. As she listens to the lyrics, she smirks at the massive crush he must have had to write this song. The “good girl” lyrics bounce around in her mind and her mind drifts back to last night. Would it have felt good? To kiss Harry?

Then, she’s brought out of her reverie with “I met her once and wrote a song about her”. Her eyes widen and look to Harry again inquisitively as his past self muses over how good this girl felt. He wrote about a one night stand? That woman must have been magic. That was all she had to say about that.

“Really?” She asks incredulously, folding her arms over her chest. His gaze flickers at the movement, human nature. He presses pause.

“What?”

“A one night stand earned that?”

He looked at her seriously, like the answer was obvious. She laughs before continuing.

“You’re a simp.”

“I’m sorry?” He sputters at her statement immediately.

She raises her brows as a response now. Nothing else to say.

“She wasn’t a one night stand,” he defends, “She was a blind date...and it had been after a dry spell.”

She starts to laugh, about to give another snarky response, but he adds, “And I was twenty-one.” The numbers specifically enunciated.

“You’re still a simp in my book...but I liked the song. It was catchy, rock vibes in there. I don’t know about her telling you remind her of Carolina - north or south, I don’t see it.”

He eyes her warily, still not happy with her titling him that gen z term that was super popular all over the internet. He took her in and he knew she was only three years younger than him, he was pretty sure, yet she used ‘simp’ and ‘vibes’ like they were lexicon words. He didn’t hate it, it was just different than what he usually heard in the little border town. Italian not having translations for things like that, English was so interesting, internet language was so interesting.

“I-” He starts and stops. “She said it. Was she right? That’s not my place to judge.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N pressed, words dragging out playfully, “Personally, I wouldn’t want to be a reminder of the U.S. South, but okay...simp.”

“I swear to god if you call me that one more time, I’m throwing you overboard and I won’t feel bad about it.”

Her eyes widen and then she smiles, he cracks a smile too. They huddle back around the CD player, ready for the next song. It starts with a strong guitar and drums, again well produced compared to the acoustic earlier ones.

His voice in this is far more shaky, unsure of himself again. “Let me take my medicine, take my medicine, treat you like a gentleman,” comes through the speakers. She shivers and looks at him, her fingers tapping along to the beat. The instruments are strong where his voice is soft, it doesn’t exactly fit, but she likes the lyrics still. When it gets to the pre-chorus, that’s when she knows she loves the song.

“I had a few got drunk on you and now I’m wasted, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (tasted)”

When his voice pitches high for ‘wasted’ she loses it. Her body moves with the instruments and her eyes close and her head wiggles. Harry smiles happily as she dances for the first time to one of his songs. The last word must have been shouted by his bandmates, because she doesn’t hear him say it.

Then the chorus hits and she wonders how it got even better. Her eyes shoot open and she just stares at Harry, her jaw slightly dropped.

“If you got out tonight, I’m going out tonight cause I know you’re persuasive! You got that something and I got me an appetite now I can taste it”

His past self sings of getting dizzy and his voice moans into the mic the demo was recorded on. She’s blown away. It sounds so hot, his voice gaining confidence during the pre-chorus and the chorus to have an all around rockstar sound.

The present Harry just taps his rings together as he watches her, studying her reaction with an even-tempered expression. Why isn’t he screaming like she is on the inside? When it gets to the second verse she’s bracing herself for what’s to come. This song has her pulse racing and blood flowing wildly around her body. She’s buzzing from it.

“The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with him and I’m okay with it”

The electric guitar follows the line up and she thinks she’s going to pass out on this boat right now. Flamboyant Harry. Was this what Marie had been talking about. The wild side of Harry she really had never seen, embodied in one song. She wanted more of it. Still all she got was the Harry on the demo rocking out to his song. She can hear him smiling through the recording, the sad boy from a few songs ago was now feeling euphoric. She just wanted to dance the night away with him.

Then another pre-chorus: “I’m coming down, I figured out I kinda like it, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (ride it)”

His voice goes high again for ‘like it’ this time and her question of what is to follow is quickly answered with the bandmates screaming ‘ride it’ into the mics they must have had. It’s punctuated with the drums and other instruments. A noise escapes the back of her throat and Harry looks at her both smugly and amused. She rolls her eyes in response, trying to convince Harry that she hadn’t just had images of him singing about how good someone rides him flash in her mind. Even more so with the images of someone, namely her, being the object of his dreams. Doing the things he said he’d dream of. That, that was definitely not what she was thinking about. Definitely not. Her throat was dry and she swallowed hard. Harry’s eyes never left her face. Watching every reaction, gauging it and storing the information elsewhere for the time being.

She sings along to the chorus, trying to focus on the song, it was easy to pick up, but then the damn moans. And then there’s a guitar solo that sounds like sex itself and she’s baffled that this was an unreleased demo, not a famous rock song. Harry in front of her can’t stop himself from tapping his feet at this part, a little dance forming on his body as his eyes finally leave her figure. They close as he feels the music, the memory of his friend playing the riff clear in his mind and how much he had loved it. It builds up again and then there’s a final chorus. She watches him now as he dances in the confined space. His mouth opens to sing along to the “la la la’s”

It ends and goes straight into another upbeat song. It seemed like a complimentary song to the one that had just played.

“I don’t want your sympathy, but you don’t know what you do to me, oh Anna!”

His voice sings strong again. Harry before her composed himself again, going back to his watching position. He took in her tapping and smiling to the song. He also mouths the words slightly as it plays, the lyrics clear as the day he finished writing them almost 4 years ago. One of the final ones for this demo.

“Hope you never hear this and know that it’s for you, don’t know what I’d tell you if you asked me for the truth”

She smirks at him, now, with the earnest lyrics, about to say something, but then notices the change in the guitar. It switches from the epic riff that was going to a more familiar tune, “Faith” by George Michael. She looks at him, a cheesy grin on her face as the voice begins to sing the chorus of that song. Her body begins to dance to it, like an old man doing the twist. She’s not ashamed and Harry loves it and joins her by mirroring the movements.

When the song comes to an end, they’re one large giggling mess. She falls into his arms and he holds her steady, their laughter coming out with freedom.

“Thanks for making me be patient,” She looks up at him, “it was worth it!”

He smiles, backing up slightly, “It’s like I knew what I was talking about.”

“Ok smart guy,” she teases with a silly voice. “I’m assuming whoever Anna is, isn’t actually named Anna then...?”

Harry hums and makes a twitch of his brows, but doesn’t respond. Instead he grabs her hand and she squeaks slightly, he pulls her to the ladder and prompts her to go up. She obliges silently and lands back on the top of the boat now. She looks out and sees the little town to be off in the distances now, shining blue water all around the creamy white boat.

Harry stands behind her now and shuts the hatch easily. She looks at him warily, confused by his silence. He extends his hand to her this time and she takes it. He leads her to the front of his boat. They’re moving, but so slowly you’d barely notice. There’s a loveseat of sorts right at the front and Harry sets her down in it. She smiles at him with caution, still bewildered. He leans against a part of the boat that stands in front of the seat.

“It’s beautiful, right?” He asks.

Her eyes have been looking around her, but they’ve mostly been trained on Harry. She was mesmerized by him now. His music, his boat, his clothes, his everything. She was seeing him in a new light. In a completely brand new way that had her unable to take her eyes off of him.

She nods finally when Harry looks at her expectantly. “It’s amazing,” she breathes.

His smile is the half-sided grin again. Beautiful big teeth on display with a little part of space between them. His dimple pops out and once again her eyes are on his face. She realized going on this boat with Harry might not have been such a good idea.

He folds his arms, her eyes flicker down. Every movement he makes, she doesn’t want to miss it. Even if she also is telling her mind to shake it off, she can’t. It’s like a spell.

“Obviously Anna is a pseudonym,” he says finally, eyes watching where the boat was taking him. She nods in approval. He pauses, watching the little waves, but she knows he has more to say.

“What did you think of the rest of it?” He asks quietly, gaze never going back to her. He knew she’d teased him a little and had danced along to some. She’d looked at him with wide eyes at some lyrics, but he wanted to know what she really thought.

She can tell he’s nervous, but she doesn’t understand why. They were all very good songs, his voice was beautiful, the lyrics were interesting. She didn’t understand his lack of confidence. His first time not exhibiting his usual self-assured - self-absorbed, even - personality. She bites her lip in confusion and his brows knit together, further showing his apprehension. The wrinkles in his forehead show up more prominently and she’s reminded that Harry is 26. He’s a different person now then he was back when he recorded that demo. Maybe there was a reason he kept them on the boat. She felt unsure in her response now.

“They were all great, Harry.” His face softens immediately. “Each one was beautifully written and sung. The ones that were acoustic sounded wonderful as did the ones with your whole band. I’m honored to be someone who got to hear those masterpieces.”

She wanted to tell them they should be famous songs, but she had a feeling that might not have the effect on him that she wanted. He had chosen a little quiet life in the little border town. She didn’t think he would want to hear how his music could have made it big time.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, just about the sounds of the sea. He lets a closed mouth smile twist onto his face, but it feels like he doesn’t fully believe her. She wants to kiss his worry away, but again, she knows it’s not possible. His words from earlier rang in her head. It would make things weird. Yeah, you’re right. Ugh, why had she agreed. She didn’t agree, not at all, not anymore.

“Did you have a favorite?” He stands up straighter with his question.

She laughs slightly, “I liked the second to last one a lot. It was hot.”

“Hot how?” He steps closer, smirking.

She jumps up from her reclined seat, in indignation, “Oh come on, you know it’s hot. Now you’re just looking for me to stroke your ego! It’s obviously about sex.”

“And? You’re the one who’s saying it’s your favorite and blushing.” He arches a brow at her, arms going to his hips and looking at her teasingly.

“Well, you’re the one who was singing about sucking dick and dreaming of how someone rode you.”

“Is that what it’s about?” His voice raises as he purses his lips and raises both of his brows.

She realizes just how worked up he’s gotten her in such a short amount of time. She huffs and turns away from him with a flick of her hand. “You’re infuriating.” Is all she can say. She looks out at the waves now, ignoring Harry even though he’s less than a foot away.

He’s laughing behind her for a little. Then when she doesn’t turn around, he quiets and she’s not quite sure where he’s gone. Then his breath fans over her neck and right shoulder, where her jacket hasn’t managed to cover her. It’s warm and a little minty as the scent travels over the salty sea air. She doesn’t turn or move a muscle for that matter.

A hand reaches out to her shoulder, but still she makes no move to turn. It rests there for a minute and she simply huffs again, letting her shoulders rise and fall dramatically. A single laugh slips from Harry’s mouth.

“C’mon diavola, don’t be like that. S’all in good fun.” His voice is low in her ear, sultry even. It reminds her of his voice in that song once he got into it. His voice sounds like sex in her ear and this time when she sighs it’s not because she’s irritated with him. No, she wants him. The sigh has an undercurrent of that desire and she hopes Harry doesn’t understand that. But otherwise she stays quiet, letting him murmur into her ear with his hand on her shoulder and his chest pressed to her back now. The only witness of this exchange is the ocean before them.

His head leans closer and if she didn’t know any better it felt like he was about to press a kiss to her neck. Instead all she feels is the brush of his mustache, it tickles the shell of her ear and she can’t keep in the giggle. She twists away from the sensation and Harry is grinning at her when she faces him.

His hand still on her shoulder and his body still pressed close to hers. He’s so warm and so close and so shiny new in her eyes, even if he still manages to irritate her. Her eyes flicker up to his as their laughter quiets down. She realizes her own hands have gone to his waist to steady herself and she follows his feet as he backs them up from the edge of the boat that she had brought them too.

It’s quiet again. They’re staring at each other intently. Her eyes are swirling with emotion because she just wants to know what’s going on in the brain of the man before her. She wants to know everything about him, but she knows that’s not how he feels about her. Sure, they’re friends now, but nothing else.

Why did she have to come on this stupid boat and find his stupid amazing music? Why did he have such a stupid amazing face?

These questions and other silly things were racing around her head as she gripped his waist. He didn’t mind her quietness, he found her gaze to be a little unnerving, but he was just glad he had made her laugh. He found that he didn’t enjoy her anger at him as much anymore.

Just as he was about to start another conversation, there was a cloud that drifted over the shining sun. It was her original fear come to life. Harry’s brows furrowed as he looked up at the clouds. They were turning grey. Fast.

“Shit, shit, shit,” He began mumbling and released his hand from her shoulder. He pulled away from her hold and began moving swiftly around the boat. He needed to get them off the water, there was a storm coming.

Her eyes went wide as she noticed the approaching storm as well. Her brows furrowed with worry as she watched Harry begin working on the boat, his only words being curses to himself at first.

Then he enlists her help, asking her to hold onto a specific part of the boat for him after he threw her a life vest and made her put it on. She wore it with great dissatisfaction. He only shrugged as he continued to move nimbly around the boat, turning them around, back to the dock.

The boat moved much swifter into the shore than it had on their way out. The waves were growing choppier by the minute and she would admit she was more than a little scared. Thankfully, Harry knew what he was doing and got them there quickly and safely. Once at the dock, he tied them there and then helped her off the boat. She stood on the dock uncomfortably as the rain started to come down.

“Give me your lifevest!” He gestures from the boat.

She quickly takes it off and flinches when the first bout of thunder sounds from far off. He takes it from her and throws it haphazardly down the hatch along with his own before jumping off the boat himself. He surveys the boat from the dock to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. Then he looks at her. She’s wrapped her arms around herself and is ducking her head, looking like she’s attempting to ward off rain but failing miserably.

She looks up at him and he offers a soft smile of reassurance.

“Take my hand!” He shouts slightly over the growing sound of rain and thunder. He wants to get them out of the rain, but he’s also apprehensive to leave his boat to the mercy of the weather. Still, that’s all he can do.

She puts her hand in his and his fingers weave with hers. Then, they’re off racing back to their street in the little border town.

“I should go back to my place!”

“Don’t be silly! France is much too far for you to go in this weather!”

She laughs and grips his hand tighter as he fumbles for his key. His wet hand slipping as the rain droplets soak their clothes and skin. Even though her door is a mere few feet away she allows Harry to pull her into his shop. The warmth and dryness appreciated after running a few blocks in the now torrential downpour. There weren’t storms often in the little border town, but like the old adage said ‘when it rained, it poured’ quite literally. The less she had to travel in the rain the happier she was, even if it was three measly feet.

It also occurred to her that she’d be able to sit out her first storm with someone by her side. And she would admit that didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of storms and being in a new place with a storm she’d never weathered before was daunting. Harry inviting her in was a blessing. She didn’t have to be asked twice.

Once inside the little shop, their wet frames begin to form puddles beneath themselves. Harry sighs and takes off up his rickety stairs. She looks after him in confusion but stays put when he calls a quick “Wait there!”

She shakes a bit of the rain from her and shivers as she listens for Harry’s movements barely audible above the crashing of the rain water. When he returns, her breath catches in her throat, like she just choked on something, yet there’s nothing.

As he walks down the steps, far slower now, his wet hair shakes out around his head forming some ethereal halo. The light from upstairs illuminates him and the darkness outside casts an ominous darkness as he descends.

“Un ange…” She whispers after finally catching her breath.

If he hears her, it doesn’t matter. He’s already beginning to smile widely just from seeing Y/N before him.

He skips the last step and crosses to her swiftly. “Let’s get you dried a little more,” he begins to dote. A matching smile spreads on Y/N’s face out of appreciation. She still can’t manage to fend off the shivering and Harry’s smile falters. His hands leave the towel and trace her exposed skin. Her cheek feels like ice, only slightly warming under his touch.

“You need dry clothes,” he mumbles.

Her eyes widen as she looks up at him. He’s so close and so attentive and she wants to ask him to kiss her because they’ve been going back and forth all day, but he’s right she’s freezing. His eyes are so intense though she can’t even maintain eye contact. Instead her gaze flits up to the droplet beginning to swell down one of his rogue strands of hair that flopped over his forehead moments ago.

She doesn’t respond as she watches and Harry begins to worry more. Her eyes seemingly unfocused, her shivering, and her silence. He thumbs over the apple of her cheekbone and finally breaks her reverie. The droplet splashing between them without her as its audience.

“C’mon,” he tugs her hand now to bring her upstairs.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fic #harry styles series #little border town #harry styles one shot #harry styles af #ahghsgjfgkjdfkg #literal keyboard smash #its been so long #and no one is going to read #do y'all even remember me omg

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yslkook · 4 years ago

Text

#take it offline (3)

#corporate masterlist summary: in the weeks leading up to the first workshop taking place in tokyo, you find yourself having several epiphanies and become better acquainted with jeon jungkook. word count: 7765 warnings: cursing, parental death, a mom who walked out, discussion of mental health, alcohol a/n: enjoy the VIBES. i like using appa because appa means dad in my language, and eomma is pronounced the same way for mom in my language too (i’m not korean)

***

After a year passed after your dad’s death, you had gotten a tattoo. It’s big and bold and colorful on your thigh, filled with all of the flowers that your dad treasured the most. Your dad had been so artistic and soft, taking time to enjoy the beauty of small things. He had a small garden in your childhood home, and you remember how meticulously he took care of his flowers. Namely, his favorites were cherry blossoms, pink hibiscuses, white roses and lilies.

There’s always a vase of flowers at home, on your nightstand. As your little tribute to him.

You remember the first time your dad had seen a sunflower- he’d seen it on the internet, and had been fascinated. He had picked you up and twirled you around, promising you that he’d take you to America to see it, to see mazes and fields of sunflowers.

Of course, you never went. Still, the memory is a fond one for you.

You often think that your mother must have been a cruel woman, and that you had received all of her personality and none of your father’s. Your father, who was quiet, soft, and steadfast. And then you, who was brash, impulsive and always angry.

You gave up trying to understand how she could leave your father- she had left when you were just two. Appa never hid her from you, always wanting you to know that you did have a mother. He would show you pictures of her throughout your childhood, telling you bits and pieces of her. It had made your heart ache at the time. That your dad had at least had time with her, and you had nothing to remember her by.

He wasn’t perfect. He tried his best, but you wonder what was worse- never knowing that you had a mother… or knowing that you had her, she left, and then hearing stories from your father about her.

It didn’t matter, not anymore. You only think of your absent mother fleetingly these days, and it’s been years since you’ve thought of her as anything more than a minor side character in your book.

Once you got the first tattoo, you couldn’t stop. There was a small lion below your heart, because your dad and grandma always called you their lion cub. An arrow on the inside of your wrist. It was an itch, a craving that you could never quite satisfy. The desire for fresh ink came and went in waves.

Today is the fifth death anniversary of Appa, and you contemplate whether you should get another tattoo. To celebrate, or mourn really, five years without him.

Ultimately, you decide against it. Instead choosing to continue the tradition of dinner with Grandma and with Seokjin. You and Grandma cooked all of Appa’s favorite foods and desserts on the day of his death anniversary. Jin, as your closest friend and as the person who quite literally picked you up at your lowest, always came every year for Appa’s dinner.

You think Jin saved you from yourself all those years ago, and you don’t even know if he knows that. And how could he know? If you had never properly voiced it?

Appa’s dinner is usually a quiet, but fun affair. Just the way your dad would have liked it. You and Jin fill the silence with your banter, and Grandma even jumps in, taking sides when neither of you expect it.

Bowls of meat dishes, even seafood (because Jin liked seafood even though you hated it), rice dishes and vegetables were neatly arranged on the table. The flavorful aromas wafts into your nose and your mouth waters. Looking over to Jin, you see the same thoughts reflected on his face and grin at him.

Appa also loved seafood, specifically fish and octopus- both him and Jin would often tease you about how you had no taste. To which you always responded, “I would rather die than eat something that crawls on the ocean floor. You don’t know where it’s been!”

“The same could be said about chicken and beef-”

“I prefer my meat to be a land animal, thanks.”

“Jin,” You say suddenly, “How are your parents? Your sister? I texted her the other day, but I’m sure she’s busy with school...”

“You tell me, Ma told me that you called her the other day,” Jin says wryly, “You probably talk to her more than I do.”

“You should call your parents, Seokjin,” Grandma scolds and Jin gives her a sheepish grin, “Go visit them soon. Your Ma told me she misses you.”

“Oh, fine, everyone can just gang up on me then, I guess,” Jin rolls his eyes, “Next time I go home, you and grandma should come with me. I’ll get scolded by them too if I don’t bring you.”

“Oh, well when you put it that way, you make it sound so enticing, Seokjin,” You scoff, getting up to get a drink, “D’you want soju or wine?”

“Wine,” Grandma chirps.

“Soju,” Seokjin replies.

“I’ll drive you home, Jin. Enjoy yourself,” You wink at him despite his protests.

***

Jin is quiet in the car, his attention undivided to his phone. You don’t mind, but you see his phone lighting up every few seconds. An occasional smile and breathy chuckle leaves his lips as he types away.

You even see a heart emoji or two on the screen.

“Who are you textin’? You got a secret lover or somethin’?” You tease. But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t deny you. Instead, the tips of his ears go red and your smile fades.

“Uh,” Jin says, “Not a secret lover… Just a girl that I met a few weeks ago.”

“Oh,” You say, in a strangled voice, “Cool. Awesome. I’m happy for you.”

It hurts you more than it should, that Jin hadn’t told you about the woman he’s been seeing for the last few weeks. He knew it too- your heart and your emotions are always on your sleeve, at least to him. He starts to ask you to come inside so that you can talk, but your face is tightened in hurt, and the words die on his lips.

Your smile was forced when you had dropped him off at his apartment building, ignoring the sudden wave of sadness that tumbled over you. Did he not trust you enough to tell you? Have you been a bad friend to him, that he felt like he couldn’t tell you?

You can’t recall the last time he had intentionally hidden something like that from you. You swallow tears down nervously, wiping your eyes and subtly shaking your head to focus on driving home.

Maybe you have been a bad friend lately. Have you asked about him enough? Does he know that you cherish him? Memories of the last few weeks replay in your head, wondering if you had done something to push him away.

But before you can leave the curb, Jin is sprinting from the building and towards you like a madman. His cheeks are flushed, eyes wide and hair blowing with the wind.

In all of your years of friendship, Jin never lets you leave him when he knew you were upset. He knew how your silly mind worked, how if you revelled in your own thoughts you would end up spiraling further and further away from him.

He slides into the passenger seat of the car, not even admonishing you for leaving the doors unlocked after he had left.

Tears gather in your eyes and you bite your bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

“Listen to me,” Jin says, turning to you and holding your face in his hands as if you’ll break, “I didn’t tell you about her because… if I told you about her, it would make it so much more real. I don’t know if me and her are real yet. I can’t introduce you to her yet because I don’t know. And you know I need your approval, otherwise she’s gone.”

He says it lightly, to get you to smile and it works but tears drop from your eyes anyway.

“You could’ve still told me you were seeing someone,” You say in a small voice, “You’ve told me every other time…”

“This time feels different,” Jin admits, “But you’re right. I’m sorry.”

Maybe you’re being too clingy. You scoff out loud, already wanting to curl into yourself and forget about your stupid heart.

“God, I’m so stupid. I’m sorry I freaked out,” You mumble, avoiding his eyes, “I know you’d tell me if it was important.”

“Don’t apologize for me hurting you,” Jin says, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“Have I been a good friend to you, Jin?” You whisper after a beat and Jin’s eyes widen. He feels terrible for making you doubt yourself and doubt your friendship with him.

“What? Of course you’ve been a good friend. What’s going on?”

“I just- Maybe you didn’t want to tell me because I haven’t been a great friend to you. I don’t know. Maybe I haven’t showed you-”

“Stop,” Jin whispers, “Stop that.”

And that’s so very you, thinking that you had done something to upset him. When really, it was him who actively chose not to tell you out of his own fears.

You normally don’t really like hugs. Or being touched. Except by Jin. The exception has always been Jin.

“Can I have a hug?” You mumble quietly, looking up at him with red eyes.

Jin coos softly at you, pulling you in tightly to his chest over the console of the car. He rubs your back, waiting for you to calm down as you inhale him in generously.

“If I was upset with you, you know I would tell you. I love you too much to let you get away from me,” Jin murmurs into your ear, “You’re my best friend. When I say that I didn’t tell you because it terrifies me to be in something serious, that’s all it means. Telling you makes it serious, and that’s all it is. Please trust me?”

“I do, I do,” You mumble, face pressed into his purple sweater, “Of course I trust you. It’s my own mind I feel like I can’t trust sometimes. That’s… that’s not a fair reaction to have. It’s not fair...

Jin looks at you for a long moment, and you already know what is going to come out of his mouth. Because it’s something you’ve been thinking about more and more frequently over the past few weeks.

And because you both seem to almost always be on the same wavelength.

There’s a far away look in his eyes. He waits for you to say something, not wanting to upset you further.

“I think… I think I should see someone. Sometimes I feel like I’m just losing control. It scares me how quick I spiral,” You mumble. Meeting his eyes is difficult for you in your vulnerability, so you just don’t.

Jin yanks you into his chest again and hugs you tight. You’re both silent for a few minutes, your grip on his sweater starting to loosen.

“Hey,” Jin finally says, “I’m proud of you. I’m here for you, and I’ll help you find someone.”

“Jin,” You breathe, shaking your head, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Last time we talked about this, we fought so much. We didn’t even talk for like, three days. Which is a record for us,” Jin chuckles, “Of course, I’ll help you.”

You squeeze his hand tightly in gratitude, giving him a tender smile.

“Hey. When you finally do decide that you like this girl,” You say, “Let’s have drinks together. She’s different, I can tell. Haven’t seen you blush at a text like that like… ever. And I want to meet whoever makes you this happy.”

“Yeah,” Jin nods, cheeks reddening at the mention of the woman he likes, “Yes, I’ll coordinate with her-”

“Like, remember that girl you were seeing during our third year? The one who threw up in your shoes, forgot about it, and then blamed it on me? Let’s hope your new girl won’t throw up in your shoes, huh?”

“Shut up,” Jin says and elbow you gently, “You hated her from the beginning.”

“The vibes were just off, Seokjin. You can’t say I didn’t warn you,” You laugh.

Silence falls between you both again, the setting sun pulling you away from your comfortable bubble.

“I should get going. Grandma’s probably wondering what’s taking so long,” You lament and almost shyly give him another hug.

Jin presses a long kiss to your forehead. You’re certain you might combust, you’re not used to being touched like this. Whether it’s platonic or romantic.

“I mean it,” Jin says, “I’m really proud of you.”

He says it so strongly, so full of conviction and love for you that you’re almost proud of yourself, too.

***

Tonight is a late night with Jungkook and Sana. Namjoon had entrusted the next slate of deliverables to you this week, as he was out of the office for the majority of the week. So, you had straightened your back and got to work, outlining exactly what had to be done for the first workshop taking place in Tokyo in exactly one month.

You booked the conference room, your favorite one with the big projector and the nicer chairs, for the later half of the day. When it began to look like you were going to have to stay late, you told Jungkook and Sana to go home.

But they both vehemently refused to leave you, and that itself brought a small smile to your face.

But Namjoon is still neurotic enough to text you at least twice during the week to see how things are going. At first, you had been startled- hardly anyone ever texts you besides Grandma and Seokjin. But then you relaxed when you realized it was just Namjoon texting you for work.

It had thrown you off when he had continued the conversation, speaking to you as if you were more than coworkers, and as if you were friends.

Jin had looked at you like you had three heads when you voiced your confusion-

“What are you talking about? Namjoon talks about you all the time, he always says how funny you are and how you keep everyone in check at work. He even mentioned those recipes you sent to him. Of course you both are friends,” Jin says, his eyes softening when your lips open in surprise.

You’re rendered to contemplation by that. Had you always been that dense? Not realizing when people liked you?

It was something to discuss at your next appointment with your therapist.

“Your boss is stressing me out,” You joke to Jungkook, “Dude’s on vacation and he’s still worried about work.”

Jungkook freezes, his tongue seemingly stuck in his mouth. You’re looking at him with a disarming smile and he’s just not used to it.

“Uh,” He manages, “I’m still trying to figure out what makes him tick. But I think he’s always had to carry the load for projects, maybe it’s a habit to break…”

“Yeah,” You snort, “Because he’s never had me as a lead on one of his projects. Namjoon’s been cursed with shitty teams before. But not this time.”

“What does that mean?” Sana asks curiously, looking up from her laptop.

“It means that sometimes directors and senior directors don’t know what the hell they’re doing and they don’t know how to strategize,” You say dryly, “The Tokyo team won’t know what hit them. And we’re gonna make our bosses look great.”

The last bit comes out bitterly without it meaning to.

You lean back in your chair and take your blazer off. Jungkook gulps despite himself at the sight of your tanned arms and the brief expanse of your neck. He feels like he’s twenty-one again, shyly watching you speak animatedly to him at your favorite coffee shop.

The sound of your voice yanks him back to reality and he blinks at you.

“I think we still have just one more thing to finalize…” You murmur, flipping through your notes, “It’s already late, I can finish the rest at home-”

“Wait, I really want to stay, but I can’t- I have to take my dad to an appointment,” Sana says, about to apologize but you hold your hand up to stop her.

“Go then, seriously. You should’ve told me you couldn’t stay late,” You scold lightly, “Work will always be there, Sana. Time won’t.”

You offer her another smile and she smiles nervously back at you.

“Wait, before you go- let me get your phone number,” You murmur, ignoring the way your heartbeat rushes in anticipation.

Your therapist has been helping you get comfortable in your own skin and allow yourself the apparent luxury of leaning on others. You figure that part of that is accepting and seeking friendship from others. You’ve only had several sessions with her, but you feel something after each session.

“Our boss never asked for my phone number when I started,” Sana says dryly when she gives you a missed call and you text her so she has your number.

“Yeah, sometimes I wonder if he even remembers my name,” You say lightly, keeping your face in a warm smile.

Jungkook has never seen you smile so much. Not recently at least. It’s… different. He hates to revel in the past, in the version of you that he knew. But he wonders if he ever really knew you at all. The only thing familiar about you is your smile and your eyes.

He doesn’t even realize it, but his tongue is poking at the inside of his cheek.

He wonders if you still even have his phone number. He wonders if you’d even ask for it.

“Jungkook, I can finish this at home if you have somewhere to be,” You offer with a shrug and stretch your arms outward.

“Nah, let’s finish this now,” Jungkook says shortly.

He’s nothing if not a perfectionist.

“Yeah, tomorrow’s Friday anyway. D’you wanna do one last review tomorrow morning and then we can go home early?” You pose it like a question, but really, it’s a demand.

“Sounds good.”

“Wanna order dinner? Since we’ll be here for a while,” You suggest, already googling takeout options.

Jungkook shrugs noncommittally, instead working to spell check the document you had been working on previously.

“How do you feel about fried rice? Or… pizza? You used to love pineapple on pizza right?” You ask airily.

Jungkook has whiplash. Again. How can you remember something so insignificant about him and still be such a stranger to him?

“Yeah, pineapple on pizza is a way of life. Pineapple and jalapeno on pizza, specifically,” Jungkook says, not looking up from his laptop.

His tongue is poking his cheek again, but you don’t notice. At least, he doesn’t think he does.

“I’ll get a pie of pineapple and jalapeno then. And maybe some garlic bread,” You muse, putting your credit card information into the website.

“Wait, I can pay, too,” Jungkook protests when he sees you whip out your card.

“You can get it next time,” You shrug carelessly and absent-mindedly scratch at your forearms, then your cheek.

Next time? Jungkook barely gives it a second thought, his eyes catching on the smattering of tattoos and the swirl of colors on your wrist. He doesn’t know how he missed it, but it’s not often that he is ever this close to you.

Those are new, and he subtly looks at his own tattoos before sneaking a glance at yours.

You lean back in your chair, watching what Jungkook is doing on the projector. You pull up several documents on your own laptop to fact check the document. You both develop an easy rhythm of you telling him what to add and him typing away, and you continue like that even as the pizza and garlic bread arrives. You had quickly dipped out and brought the food to the conference room before Jungkook could even protest.

He reads each paragraph after it’s completed, briefly scanning to see if anything more needs to be included.

“Can you check this sentence, on the acquisitions piece? It doesn’t sound accurate…” Jungkook says thoughtfully. The smell of the pizza leaves his mouth watering but he just wants to finish this one last sentence...

You hum in agreement, leaning back further and relaxing your hands behind your head. You feel like your eyes are beginning to cross as an initial wave of hunger passes through you.

“Let’s eat instead,” You announce, standing up abruptly.

You quickly send a text to Grandma, telling her that you’ll already have eaten dinner by the time you get home. You toss a set of plates and napkins to Jungkook, gesturing for him to take as many slices as he wants.

Jungkook watches you inhale three slices of pizza in less than seven minutes, a small spattering of sauce at the corner of your lips.

“Can’t believe I was ever the type of person to openly hate on pineapple on pizza,” You moan, kicking your legs up onto the chair next to you and looking at Jungkook, “Remember how much shit I used to talk on pineapple on pizza? As if it didn’t belong…”

He does remember. He remembers how you would always make fun of him for it, until he had convinced you to try a slice. And then you had fallen in love. But your hot and cold behavior stings and he doesn’t want to entertain it. Or entertain you. You spent so long acting like you didn’t know him, and now you want to talk about old memories?

Nah. He could be petty, too.

Jungkook shrugs, “Not really. It was a while ago.”

His normally warm, brown eyes are distant, and far away as his glance passes over you and to his laptop. Jungkook turns away from you, his hair nearly covering his eyes and typing rapidly.

Like he’d rather be anywhere but next to you.

You don’t really blame him, but you ignore the brief, dissipating sting at his sudden coldness.

“Do you have roommates?” You ask abruptly.

“Huh?” Jungkook asks, taken aback by the question.

“Roommates? There’s a lot of extra food and I live with my grandma. She won’t eat this,” You explain, waving to the boxes of food in front of you.

“Oh. Yeah I’ve got a roommate, I’ll take it home,” Jungkook replies.

Your grandmother?

You nod and swallow to alleviate the sudden dryness of your throat. You both work the remainder of the hour in silence for the most part, occasional questions and thoughts being thrown around as Jungkook types. Nothing more, nothing less.

Jungkook finally stands up, stretching his legs and his back. You avert your eyes when his baby blue dress shirt rides up a little as he stretches his arms. You catch the inky trails on his forearm (his sleeves are pulled up at the elbow) and his fingers and you wonder, not for the first time, how this was the boy you knew all those years ago.

All those years ago. The words, the memories that you’ve somehow forced into a box have slowly been unfurling. The mental block that you’ve had over your time in graduate school is linked to memories of your dad getting sick and passing away. You’re not dense- you know why you avoid Jungkook, at the heart of it. Seeing him that first day reminded you so much of when you were happy.

Your therapist put it in words when you couldn’t. It’s quite embarrassing you think, how much Jungkook has come up during your therapy sessions. The appearance of him also brought on seemingly unwanted memories of your father. It makes sense.

“We’re done,” Jungkook exhales, rubbing a hand over his face, “We’ll look over it tomorrow with Sana and send it to Namjoon.”

“Yeah,” You say a little breathlessly, “Thanks, Jungkook. For… for everything, I guess.”

His eyes are wide, doe-like and familiar.

“Thanks for the food,” He grins, flashing you his bunny smile.

“It’s on you next time,” You say easily, packing your things up and slinging your blazer over your shoulder.

You don’t care. You know that your boss and other men in general have looked at you in offense when you show skin. But you don’t care. What did it matter, at the end of the day?

Even if Jungkook is annoyed at you for whatever reason, you don’t miss the way his eyes rake over your body. At least you’ve got him there, even if he can’t stand the sight of you.

You elicit a laugh from yourself that Jungkook doesn’t hear.

You both walk in silence to your respective cars. Before you part ways, you dig some courage out from your spine and ignore the way your hands tremble-

“Hey,” You call softly, “I-uh- still have your phone number. Don’t flatter yourself-” When you see him grin confidently at you, “I’ll start a group chat with us and Namjoon. And umm… Great work today. I’m glad we’re on the same team.”

You visibly cringe. You’re going soft.

“I knew it, you’re obsessed with me,” Jungkook teases and you can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips.

“It’s only ‘cause I kept forgetting to delete your number,” You shoot back, without any real heat behind your words.

Jungkook smiles warmly at you, teeth on full display and eyes sparkling and god, you never want him to look at you with emptiness in his eyes ever again.

***

You look, simply put, like shit. Despite the concealer you had dabbed to your undereyes, you feel every bit as exhausted as you look.

But nobody picks up on it, except for you. Your lipstick is meticulous as it always is, not even a single hair is out of place and your outfit is crisp. Despite the misery coursing through your veins, you still have an image to upkeep.

Fake it till you make it, as you’ve always said.

You’re currently in a half day team meeting with your submissions team and your respective bosses. Today is not the day to be tired. And yet, you’re on your second cup of coffee and it’s not even 11 AM yet.

It’s been a rough few weeks since the last late night planning session you had with Jungkook and Sana. Therapy has been getting harder and more frustrating to work through- your therapist, Dr. Lee, is asking you questions that you genuinely don’t want to answer.

Your session a few weeks ago had ended with you being a smartass and avoiding every single question. And she took all of it. She was truly an angel, you think. And then you decide to give it a chance, give her at least an inch.

She asks you about graduate school. Why you don’t want to talk about it. Why Jungkook sets you off, why the mention of your former mentee sent you into a frenzy. She asks you about your dad. About your mom.

She puts the pieces together for you, until you sort of see the fully painted picture. That it’s all connected- school, your dad, why the last five years have felt like a blur to you. Because you’ve been avoiding all of it, and what all of it means.

You feel especially vulnerable and exposed. You’re not used to it- you feel like everyone can see right through you. You feel like everyone can see right through you and see you for the person you are.

You don’t know what’s more terrifying- being seen, or not being seen at all.

It’s two weeks until the first workshop in Tokyo, which is why you’re gathered with Namjoon, Sana and Jungkook and your respective bosses.

You at least straighten your back for this meeting, not wanting to allow room for your boss to criticize you. You don’t think you can handle it, not today. You’re struggling with staying focused, but you try your best.

When you present your portion of the slide deck, outlining exactly what you’ll be doing with the team in Tokyo during the first workshop, your boss cuts you off with a derisive chuckle that makes your blood boil.

“You should put some emotion into it and smile a little. It wouldn’t kill ya,” Your boss says with a smug grin. As if he knows how much it gets under your skin. Which he does, you’re certain of it.

You could take it to HR, you know you could. But you don’t want trouble. You don’t want to be painted as the villain. You wanted to rise above it, but right now, you just want to cry.

“I’ll smile with the Tokyo team, don’t you worry,” You grit your teeth. When I actually have something to smile for.

The air is tense all of a sudden, and it’s your fault. Of course it is. Your boss and Namjoon’s boss look at you as if you have ten heads. Nobody says a word, and you want to scream at all of them. And cry at the same time.

“She’s doing great,” Comes Namjoon’s steady voice from the head of the table.

“Yeah, she put this presentation together. She’s got this in the bag,” Jungkook adds, offering you a small smile. His eyes sparkle at you.

“We’re a great team, you know. It’s really great that you put us together,” Sana says, looking at your boss with acid in her eyes. Not that he can tell.

This time, you really do want to cry. You don’t think anyone at this godforsaken company has ever stuck up for you that way, besides Seokjin. You swallow the tears down and give them a watery smile before continuing on.

You continue on.

***

The first workshop in Tokyo is in two days, and Namjoon wanted to have a little teambuilding night before you all left, just to loosen the nerves. You’re about ten minutes early to the bar, as you usually are to places that you’re invited to. You hate to be late- that was something your Grandma had instilled in you from a young age.

You text her saying you’ve arrived and thank your Uber driver for the ride. Normally, you would’ve just driven, but you know better than to go out for drinks with Jin and think that you’d be okay to drive at the end of the night.

You’re glad Jin will be coming. Seeing your colleagues outside of work unnerves you to no end. So you’re glad that Jin will be there as your buffer. Namjoon had asked him to come, as they were friends outside of work, too.

You grab a booth for the five of you and tap your freshly done nails on the sleek, matte black table. It’s a nice place, you observe. Namjoon has good taste. It’s not often that you come out like this. To bars, and so far outside of your comfort zone. The only time you would ever be seen at a bar was with Jin, and it wasn’t that often to begin with.

You take to admiring your newly painted mint green nails as you text your group chat with Namjoon, Sana and Jungkook letting them know that you’ve arrived. And you send a loud ‘where the hell are you’ text to Jin.

It’s a relatively mild evening, so you had decided to wear your heeled boots, a black flowy top that showcases a peek of the tattoo near your clavicle and dipped generously into your chest tucked into black jeans and you had even done your makeup up more so than what you usually do for work. Grandma had jokingly asked you if she should stay at her friend’s house for the night, in case you were bringing someone home.

To which you had protested and rolled your eyes.

“Look at you,” Jin says loudly, sliding into the booth next to you. He startled you and caused you to jump, “Brought out the lipstick, huh?”

“Shut up, I always wear lipstick at work,” You roll your eyes.

“Red lipstick?” Jin asks with a suspicious arch of his eyebrow.

Okay, fine, that wasn’t as normal. But still, it makes you feel pretty.

“Don’t make fun of me,” You grumble, elbowing him. He laughs and wraps an arm around your shoulders, squeezing tightly.

“I’m not. You look pretty tonight,” Jin says and you give him a beaming smile.

“That implies that I’m not always pretty.”

“You said it, not me.”

“Hey!” You gasp and shove his shoulder. You know he’s only joking, evidenced from the way you both burst out laughing.

“I’m only friends with pretty people, I told you,” Jin says cockily.

“You’re such a dick,” You mutter and roll your eyes for the millionth time already.

Before you can pester him about his mysterious woman that you have yet to meet, Jungkook, Namjoon and Sana eventually trickle in as well. Jungkook waves a quick hello, smile beaming at Jin, and sits across from you. Sana sits next to him and Namjoon sits next to Jin.

You can hardly meet Jungkook’s sparkling eyes, but you force yourself to. He looks good, great even- his hair is soft and wavy over his eyes and he’s dressed in all black. You wonder what the majority of his wardrobe is- is it all black? Does he like bright colors? His lips are dewy and red tinted, as if he had just swiped some cherry chapstick on. The silver of the small hoop on his ears glints in the dimness of the bar.

Jungkook forces his eyes away from the darkened red curve of your lips, from the swell of your chest and meets your gaze with a smile. The moment is broken when Jin squeezes into you to get you to move over and you nearly shriek at the sudden weight thrown to your side.

“Jin! What’s wrong with you,” You shake your head.

“There’s so much space over there! Move over,” Jin says petulantly, “Namjoon’s basically falling off the seat!”

“You could’ve just said so,” You grumble, “Dumbass.”

You say the last bit under your breath but Jin hears it, and Jungkook does, too. Sana breaks out into laughter, hiding her giggles behind her hand. You shoot her a faux glare that quickly melts into a smile.

“What shall we order, ladies and gentlemen and Jin?” You say, ignoring Jin’s affronted gasp.

“Soju,” Jungkook and Namjoon say at the same time and grin at each other.

“No wonder he’s your boss,” Sana says, earning a chorus of laughs from the table.

“The only question Namjoon asked me during the interview was ‘what’s your favorite alcohol’,” Jungkook says and his eyes flit to you when you laugh.

“That doesn’t surprise me. Namjoon knows how to have a good time,” You wink behind Jin at Namjoon and he winks right back at you.

“I’ll have… blueberry,” Sana says definitively and sees your skeptical glance, “What? Blueberry soju is one of three flavors with rights.”

“Strawberry, peach, and pineapple are the best ones,” You protest.

“Are you kidding? Apple and green grape are the best-”

“Why are you yelling? I’m right.”

“Peach and green grape are the best,” Jungkook chimes in, ignoring the stutter of his heartbeat when you beam at him.

“See? Jungkook has taste-”

“He said green grape, too-”

“But he said peach first-”

The waitress comes and all of you cease your bickering to give her your orders of drinks and snacks. She looks guilty for a minute for interrupting your conversation, but Jin waves her off.

“Don’t feel bad, they’re all idiots,” Jin says, and you shove him on behalf of your colleagues. He rattles off the order to the waitress and she’s on her merry way.

Once your drinks arrive in the middle of another heated conversation about seafood, Jungkook takes a long swig of his soju to calm his nerves. Specifically, his nerves around you. He’s quiet generally, but he’s not this quiet. He wonders if you remember. If you remember that he dislikes clubs and crowded places, preferring the quiet of a bar or even better- the quiet of home.

You absently rub the back of your neck, your shirt slipping a little off of your shoulder slightly. And revealing another tattoo, as if it was a present just for his eyes. How many do you have? Are they hidden? Do you keep them hidden on purpose?

He could keep it together around you at work, under the pretense of professionalism. Never offering more than what you offer. If you smile, he’ll smile. If you bark at him, he’ll stay silent. But this is uncharted territory. He can forget about how cold you had been in the beginning, he can forget about how much it hurt. But only if you look at him the way you’re looking at him right now. Only if you look at him with those starry eyes that wrap around him and choke him from inside.

Jungkook doesn’t understand- he doesn’t know you, not really. How is he still this attracted to you? He had chalked it up to the same crush he had when he was twenty-one. But it feels different. And you have no idea. It’ll continue to stay that way, until he can move past it. He deserves better than someone who was as cold and callous as you.

But you weren’t cold or callous, were you? No- the sunburst of a smile on your face says otherwise. The way you rib Jin and try to make sure that everyone feels included in the conversation says otherwise.

Before he can continue his train of thought, you turn your gaze sharply to him. Your red lips break apart to call his name, and he realizes you’re talking to him.

“Jungkook? Here’s your drink,” You say, passing his peach soju to him, “I got peach, too.”

“Because we have taste,” Jungkook murmurs and you grin.

“Cheers to Tokyo,” Namjoon says, “We’re gonna be great. I’m glad we’re a team-”

“Hey, I’m not on your team,” Jin protests and you elbow him again.

“Shut up, Jin, just let Namjoon toast to us. Not everything’s about you,” You hiss at Jin and he pouts. You tip your bottle to the center to meet Namjoon’s bottle and Jin dramatically follows suit.

“As I was saying,” Namjoon glares at Jin playfully, “We’ve done great work, and I know this team can do anything. I’m glad it’s us. We’re going to knock it out of the park.”

“Cheers, Joon, you’ve been a great team leader,” Sana says with a bright smile.

“Yeah, a little neurotic, but the best leader I’ve ever had,” You wink at him.

“Glad you’re my boss, Namjoon,” Jungkook says, sincerity dripping off of his tongue, “I’m honored to call you my boss.”

Namjoon beams at you all, dimples on full display and eyes shining. You clink bottles eagerly and take a long swig of your drink, meeting Jungkook’s swirling eyes briefly. Once he pulls his bottle away from his mouth, you’re instantly drawn to the wet sheen of his lips and his tongue darting out to swipe over his bottom lip.

Your cheeks heat up, and has it always been this warm or is it just you? You can’t help yourself, watching Jungkook’s tongue poke out once more and circling his lips again. You itch your chin nervously, out of habit before ripping your eyes away from him.

You pull away immediately when you remember where you are. And who you are. He’s your colleague, nothing more, nothing less.

Nothing more, nothing less.

***

It’s two and a half bottles of soju later, two peach and one green grape that you’re currently nursing, when your cheeks feel hot and you’re certain your words are starting to slur. You can hear the tipsy higher pitch of your voice when you speak.

You haven’t felt tipsy like this in a long time, and the fact that it's in front of your colleagues sets you on edge. You try to stay as quiet as you can so you don’t make a fool of yourself, but you want to engage with them. They don’t feel like just colleagues. They feel like your friends.

Or they feel like they could be your friends. If you allow them in. Your heart grows fond of the sentiment. The sentiment grows when Sana brings you to the dance floor to dance and sing along to songs with her. The bar has gotten considerably more packed since you had first arrived, and you don’t recall the last time you were surrounded by this many people your age. The lights are dimmed but bright enough that you can see Sana’s bright, happy eyes.

You subconsciously look for Jin, spotting him at the bar with Jungkook and Namjoon. He waves the both of you over and you gesture to Sana.

Jin already has shots lined up for you and Sana but you hesitate.

“I don’t know Jin,” You protest, “I don’t do well with shots…”

Before Jin can tease you and tell you that he’ll take yours for you, you hear Jungkook’s voice on your right side.

“I’ll take yours for you,” Jungkook shrugs, “Since Jin already got them.”

“Oh- uh- thanks,” You say sheepishly.

Your face feels warm again and your heart does a funny thing that you don’t recognize. You shift closer to him to hand him your shot glass, and you lean closer to him without realizing it. The warmth he radiates is intoxicating, more so than the liquor in the shot glass you think.

Jungkook only spares you a quick glance before throwing the shot glass back easily, as if it was practiced. A glint of a silver necklace around his throat catches your eye, the column of his throat nearly glowing with the dimmed lighting.

“Tequila, Jin? Really?” Jungkook winces, washing the taste down with the drink in his hand.

Jin only shrugs and makes his way over to you and Jungkook, wrapping his arms around both sets of shoulders.

The three of you haven’t been together, not like this, since-

“Feels like old times, huh?” Jin says, lips pursing into a tipsy grin, “We were stupid kids.”

“Now we’re stupid adults,” You laugh, but your laugh fades away quickly at the pensive, somewhat cold look on Jungkook’s face.

“Old times…” Jungkook muses, “It was so long ago. We’re all so different now, huh?”

Even if he’s looking at Jin, you get the feeling he’s talking directly to you.

“A lot of time has gone by, a lot has happened since then,” You reply airily, raring up on the defensive just in case.

Jungkook says nothing, only shifting his gaze to you. The iciness around his brown irises breaks apart slowly, but his jaw is set and his lips pursed in a line.

“Oh, really? A lot happened since then?” Jungkook says, voice leveled. It’s unfamiliar, the uncharacteristic coldness in his voice. You’re only used to his bunny smiles and warmth. Again, that was from years ago. And like he had said- you were all different now.

You say nothing, holding your secrets back with your red lips. You owe him nothing. He’s only a colleague, right?

Then why does it hurt the way it does?

Jin releases his hold on the both of you, picking up on the sudden tension between you both. There are a thousand things Jungkook wants to say to you, a thousand questions- How have you been? What have you been up to, all these years? Why are you living with your grandma?

Instead, steel curls in his eyes and ice in his throat.

Jungkook shakes his head, closing his eyes for a second. He knows if he opens his mouth, he’ll end up hurting you. And he can’t do that. But apparently, he can’t just ask you how you’re doing, either.

You don’t really blame him for his sharp tongue.

Jin looks between the two of you with concerned, raised eyebrows, clearly feeling the unspoken tension. You want to melt into the floor so you diffuse the situation the only way you know how.

“I gotta pee, I’ll be back,” You mutter quickly and don’t bother to meet their eyes before making a hasty exit.

Jin already has texted you, asking if everything’s okay. You text him a quick yes before touching up on your lipstick and giving yourself room to breathe. You stay in the bathroom for a few minutes before heading back out and pretending like the look in Jungkook’s eyes isn’t piercing every part of the wall you’ve built up.

You avoid speaking to him directly for the rest of the night, and he avoids you. You can’t help casting glances at him when you think he isn’t looking. You feel like apologizing, but you don’t know why. So you don’t, and you bury it.

But at the end of the night, he tells you to get home safe. And that he’ll see you at the airport on Friday. You reciprocate his sentiments, carefully looking into his irises to make sure that the coldness in his eyes isn’t directed toward you.

Jin pulls you away from the group for a minute-

“Stay the night with me. I don’t like the idea of you being alone with a stranger for thirty minutes in an Uber,” Jin suggests, “And Grandma will kill me if she finds out I let you go home alone.”

“Yeah,” You say faintly, “I’ll text her.”

You and Jin say your goodbyes. Normally, you’d be worried about how the optics of you leaving to go home with Jin looks to your colleagues, but tonight you don’t really feel like caring. You know Namjoon knows of the nature of your friendship with Jin. The rest doesn’t matter.

Jungkook watches you leave with Jin. Namjoon and Sana have already called an Uber together, since they lived in the same apartment complex. Neither of them see Jin drape his jacket over your shoulders. Neither of them see you wrap an arm around Jin’s upper arm and lean your head against it as you walk further and further away.

Neither of them hear his heart ache in this crowded street of Seoul, when his brain was telling him that it had no reason to.

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you

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presidentstalkeyes · 3 years ago

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Journal D - Introduction From Your New Author!

This journal is dedicated to my sister. Without Mabel, none of this would be possible. Keep shining, sis!

My name is Mason Emile Pines, but my friends call me Dipper. I'm saying this now in case something bad happens and you find this book at the bottom of the ocean or buried beneath a landslide next to a skeleton. The skeleton is probably me, so make sure I end up in a museum!

Eight years ago, I spent a summer in the town of Gravity Falls, Oregon. It's not on any maps, and most people have never heard of it. Some say it's a myth. If you're curious about it, don't wait. Take a trip. It's out there, somewhere in the woods, waiting. As it was for me, and I didn't even know.

My whole life, I've been interested in the world of Weird. Some call it the supernatural, the paranormal, the liminal world, whatever. At home, other kids at school used to think I was a freak for my interests. My parents worried about my future prospects. Even my own sister called me crazy a couple times (seems dumb in hindsight, if I had told her unicorns were real she'd have committed human sacrifice to meet one. Don't do that, by the way; turns out unicorns are total jerks. Plus human sacrifice is generally a bad thing). In any other world, they probably would have been right. In this world, I found Journal 3.

That book opened my eyes to so, so much. A whole world of magic and mystery - no, worlds, plural. Right beneath our noses. Fairies, spirits, extraterrestrial life, the power to travel through time and between parallel realities... it's honestly beyond the scope of any one book. It would take several research papers to even scratch the surface of what I discovered. And what the Author discovered.

I spent years trying to find out the identity of Journal 3's Author. I scoured his writings from top to bottom, swept the town of Gravity Falls, learned every cryptographic system known to man, but it was never enough. In the end, I never did learn his identity. Now that I think about it, it was probably kinda presumptuous of me to call them a 'he' this whole time, maybe they were a woman or something else entirely! I'll never know for sure.

But enough about that; I can dwell on old unsolved mysteries in my own time. Which I suppose this is my own time, but you get what I mean. The Author, whose shoes I now step into, built the foundations for opening up the world of Weird to the mundane world, and my family and friends drew the blueprints - now I need to build the gates. If that made any sense. There's a whole world outside Gravity Falls, and I intend to search it, to find new phenomena, and document it here. To bravely go where no man (or woman, or other) has gone before. And yes, I am a nerd, if you couldn't tell from the Star Walkabout reference. The reboot was total crap, by the way.

I think that just about covers the introductions. Onwards, into the unknown, Ad Astra Per Aspera and all that. Dipper out!

It’s been a long-ass time since I last posted anything here, so have this little thing. It takes place in the Inheritance AU - after Dipper graduated from college in 2020, he decided to pursue his dream of becoming a freelance paranormal researcher/investigator. This is his Journal (I’d have drawn it in authentic Journal style had it not been for my lack of art skills). It’s black and has the Big Dipper emblazoned on the front, because you gotta have a flair for the dramatics! (Also Dipper left his contact details on the inside cover, including ‘If found, please send to 618 Gopher Road, Gravity Falls, Oregon’). I plan on writing more of these, yes, though not in any particular order. :V

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #Inheritance AU #Dipper Pines #Journal D #Dipper is the new Author!

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ravenforce · 5 years ago

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Manhattan 5

Word Count: 3891

Pairing: Lou Miller x Fem!Reader, Background Platonic Avengers x Fem!Reader

Warning/Rating: Fluff because the world is dark and scary right now. I need fluff. You need fluff.

A/N: Thank you so much for everyone who likes, and follows this story. You guys are amazing. Please leave your reactions, bloody or otherwise, on the comment section. My inbox is open too if you’d like to pop by. Oh, and please note the ff:

1. If there are any grammatical mistakes I’ve still overlooked, I apologize.

2. I’m on a roll right now, since I have time while the city is on lockdown. I hope you guys are staying home and keeping up with protocols. Stay home, read fics. You’re helping your health workers that way. If you’re struggling to see the light, or experiencing anxiety about this pandemic and need someone to vent to, my inbox is open. Given probably time difference, please allow some time for me to reply. If you want to, drop me your Whatsapp, Telegram or wherever I can reach you faster. Be safe. xx

Manhattan Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

***

Monday - A week before the Art Week

Most of the preparations for the event are in order with minor details needs ironing out. So, Debbie moved the regular Monday morning meeting to late afternoon since everyone has been working at full capacity the last few weeks. Assigning you to spearhead not only the artists’ acquisition but also the whole opening night was one of the best decisions Debbie ever made. You were hands down one of the most meticulous floor directors she’s ever met, and she has met so many. So it only came as a slight surprise to her when they came in for the meeting to see you snoozing on the conference table.

“What the?” Nine complained when she bumped into Debbie’s back as she loiters at the entrance of the conference room.

“What’s the hold-up?” Daphne said peering behind Constance. Debbie shushed them and continued inside.

Nine laughed as silently as she could when she saw you sleeping on the table, surrounded by different things: your laptop with Nine’s security plan open, the guest list submitted by Charlie and Agatha, the final menu from Tammy, the brochure design mock-up from Daphne and a cold-brew. Nine pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of you with a chuckle.

Lou smacked her softly with a newspaper in the head. Nine glared even though it didn’t hurt.

“She must have been here all morning,” Lou surmised as she looks at your current predicament. Debbie looked at you and then at her best friend.

“I think you should take her home,” she said. She can’t have you burning out before the opening night and that’s in a week time. Lou nodded before she sat beside you and woke you up. It was a testament on how tired you must have been because you were pliant to Lou stirring you out of the room and into her car like you were sleep-walking.

“Uhm, Debbie,” Charlie said as he tries to organize your table. Debbie asked what it is.

***

“She finished everything,” Agatha finished for him.

Charlie nodded. “This one says the security plan is approved, and she finished installing the CCTV. There’s no more blind spot at the back patio,” He read the post-it on Nine’s laptop.

“This one says approved,” Agatha said while showing Tammy’s final menu. “This one says, needs everyone’s signature.” It’s the catering contract they’ve all been sitting on for weeks now.

Everyone then started to pick up post-it notes stuck on their tables.

“Mock-up’s all good and approved. I’ll send it to the printer right now,” Daphne sing-song.

“Mine said, ‘you rock’,” Constance read grinning. Some of them didn’t get notes on their work since they are already done and in order. So you just left them encouraging notes, which they showed off to everybody. Lou left you for a moment in her car to get her laptop to find her friends making such a ruckus because of some post-it notes.

“Lou, did you get a note?” Amita asked smiling broadly at the blonde.

“No.” No one believed her. Especially since Nine could see that Lou’s holding a piece of orange paper on her back. She swiped it out of Lou’s hand.

“Aww, look at that,” Nine says before showing everybody your drawing of a star with a small quote written at the bottom of it.

“Nine, please don’t,” Lou begged before trying to swipe it again from her friend but Constance and Amita were hugging her in place, chanting read it, read it.

“I feel like a part of my soul has loved you since the beginning of everything. Maybe we’re from the same star,” Nine read. Lou groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“That’s enough,” Rose swiped the paper out of Nine’s and gave it back to Lou. “That’s sweet. Now, aren’t you supposed to be taking one awesome girl home?”

Lou nodded her thanks, picked her laptop up and gave Nine the finger with a smile before leaving the room. Debbie then asked them to settle down.

***

“And here I thought Ocean’s workaholic,” Daphne teased just as everyone settled down. Debbie playfully rolled her eyes.

“I’m not workaholic. I’m just…” Debbie tried to defend her but struggled to find a word to describe herself.

“A control freak?” Constance teased while typing away in her computer. Debbie threw an eraser on her head that sent everyone laughing.

“Just admit it, you and Y/N are the same,” Tammy joined in. “That’s why they get along well.”

Debbie chuckled. “Like I’m the only one.”

The truth is everyone gets along with you, which isn’t a problem except for Lou. Since then, everyone seems to be trying to monopolize you at work while she’s away to do PR work with Debbie outside of the office. Causing you two to barely see each other in the office, or hang out after work.

That’s the last time Lou was able to spend time with you was two weeks ago. When you showed up on her front door at midnight on a Friday night asking if she could let you crash. You were so tired you fell asleep instantly the moment she pulled you in her arms.

***

Tuesday

The sun was high in the sky when you woke up Tuesday. You raised your arm to look at your smartwatch. It reads at 11 o’clock. You bolted upright and rolled out of bed in your haste to go shower. You were halfway towards the bathroom when you stopped on your tracks.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Lou’s teasing voice sounded behind you.

You turned to look at her, and then around the room. You have no recollection of coming to her place at all. The last that you can remember was coming in at work early to go over what needs your approval and whatnot. You also remember finishing them earlier than you expected, so you decided to take a power nap. Everyone was supposed to arrive after lunch anyway, you’d have sufficient time for a nap, and to clean up before the meeting starts.

“How did I get here?” you asked confused.

“I took you home,” Lou said before opening the newspaper in front of her again to cover her face. She thinks you look sinful wearing only your underwear and her huge ACDC shirt. “You know sleeping on the job is unbecoming for you.”

Shit, you thought. “I’m sorry, I was just tired. It wouldn’t happen again, I promise.”

“It wouldn’t because Debbie is…”

“Is firing me?” you gasped. Lou looked at you over the rim of her newspaper then she folded it and put it neatly back on the table.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic, love,” she said smiling. “Debbie’s not firing you but she’s taking charge from here on out.”

“But why?” you asked before sitting down next to your lover on the dining table.

“Because you’ve done enough,” she said before putting waffles on your plate. “You did very well, love but now you’ll have to let the rest of us finish the job. That’s what it means to work in a team.”

You frowned at the delicious looking waffle. Lou is absolutely shit in the kitchen but she makes amazing breakfast. She poured you a hefty amount of coffee too on your favourite mug.

“Okay,” you conceded. Lou smiled as she watches you eat your food quietly. If she’s right, it’ll take a little bit of time before you can truly be okay with Debbie’s decision. Control is really hard to let go of, especially if you specifically built a life in which you have all of it.

“Oh, and you’re on house arrest for today,” Lou said cheerfully. She was so delighted when Debbie called her early in the morning to tell her that you’re not allowed to come into work for the day.

“Don’t sound so happy. She’s not to partake on any strenuous activities for the day that includes sex,” Debbie said seriously over the phone.

“Not even if she bottom?” Lou tried to reason out. Debbie laughed on the other line before yelling no and hanging up.

Nonetheless, Lou’s happy. Finally, after two weeks, she’s going to be able to have your undivided attention. She loathes to admit it but it’s not just about the sex anymore. She truly loves your company, even if all you two could do was watch Netflix and sleep.

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” you grumbled with a pout. Lou laughed, it would have been effective if you don’t have waffle sauce on your face. She reached over and wiped it before putting her finger on her mouth.

“Don’t look so glum, baby,” Lou said. “Don’t you want to stay here with me?”

***

Wednesday

You and Lou arrived at work a little late than your usual time in. Thanks to Lou jumping in the shower with you, and positively making shower longer than necessary. If you know what it means. When you arrived at the gallery, Tammy was just serving the brunch she made for everyone.

“Y/N!” she yelled the moment she saw you. You smiled at the woman. For you, Tammy’s one of your closest friends at work. She sweet, funny, and she takes care of everyone. Only Lou thinks that Tammy’s taking extra care with you.

“Hey Tams,” you said as Tammy rubbed her face against your cheeks. Lou gritted her teeth.

She was in a bloody good mood when you two arrived especially since she got to spend a whole day with you, and got to wake up next to you again earlier. It was the kind of morning where she feels like she can conquer the world. Now, not so much. Now, she thinks she can murder a blonde.

“Sit,” Tammy said after forcing you to sit next to Nine who paused her eating to give you a kiss on the cheek too. “Here, I made these especially for you.”

“Ah, Tams. You didn’t have to but thank you,” you said as you look down on the special food, packed just for you. Debbie, Daphne, and Rose watched the scene unfold as well as Lou seething.

“Hey! Why does Y/N’s food always different?” Constance asked after catching a peak of your food. Tammy laughed along with everyone else.

“Ah! I know, I know!” Amita yelled before guessing. “Is it because Lou probably fed her take out all day yesterday?”

“Exactly, Y/N deserve home-cooked meals,” Tammy said before sitting down next to you. Lou schooled her face, sighed in an attempt to reign in her rising temper. It’s too early to engage. She decides to be the bigger person even though she hates it. Just because she can’t cook to save a life doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve you. Right?

***

Thursday

“Tell your girlfriend to take her hands off my Y/N,” Lou whispered beside Debbie as they watch Daphne talk to you about the printed collateral.

“Your Y/N?” Debbie asked softly. “Did you finally grew the balls to actually put a label on what you two are doing?”

“No. Labels are for clothes.” Lou frowned deeper as she continues to watch Daphne gripping your biceps as she laughs animatedly at something you said. Debbie chuckled softly as she watches Lou continuously fuming beside her, while you remained oblivious to her girlfriend’s teasing.

“Stop making that face. You know you’re only giving her ammunition,” Debbie said laughing before walking towards you. Daphne caught Lou’s eye from across the room and winked.

***

Friday

Her friend tested her patience all week long by being overly tactile, and flirty with you. It didn’t help that you were too busy and too oblivious to their advances. Not that she thinks her friends are truly competition but still. She likes to think that you’re hers and hers alone but Debbie’s right; you’re not. Not yet at least.

She was looking forward to today because she wanted to spend the weekend before the art opening on Monday together. She planned to stay the night in your apartment, call for delivery, and maybe catch up on some Netflix shows you two are watching. She plans to take you out to Coney Island for some R&R under the sun the next morning. She thinks you’re losing colour by being in the gallery too much but all her plans were foiled when she bumped into you in the hallway going to your door.

“Lou?” you asked while fixing the strap of your shoulder bag. You’re wearing a tight black dress, black knee-high boots, and nude overcoat. “Did we have plans?”

“No, I was just coming to see if you wanted to hang out,” she confessed reluctantly. “But you seem like you already had one.”

“Sorry. I already promise I’ll go out with Nat and Carol tonight.”

Lou’s face fell. “Oh,” is all she said before she nodded and took a step backwards. “Okay. Have fun.”

She tried to smile but it didn’t reach her eyes like it usually did when you know she’s genuinely happy. You’re about to tell her that you can see her tomorrow but Lou nodded at you one more time before she power-walked away from you.

***

It’s almost midnight and you’re about your third drink when Maria plopped down next to you at your table in the club. You kept your eyes on the dance floor to keep an eye out as Nat, Carol, and Wanda continued dancing to an upbeat song.

“Refill?” Maria asked leaning against you so she doesn’t have to shout.

“No, thank you, bubba,” you answered before looking at your sweaty, beautiful best friend. You wiped the sweat on her eyebrow. “I think I’m heading out.”

Nat, Carol, and Wanda heard it as they reach your table. “Already?” Wanda yelled before pouting and plopping down way too close to Maria to be classified as just friends.

“Come on, Cinderella. Stay for another hour,” Carol begged while doing her best impression of puppy eyes.

”Let her go,” Nat said as she offered her hand to you to help you out of the booth. “Big day on Monday. She needs all the rest she can get.”

You held Nat’s hand even after she pulled you out. “Thank you,” you said smiling broadly.

“What?” Nat asked when she noticed you smiling. You just shook your head and if it was possible smiled wider at the redhead.

You were just elated that complicated histories aside, you all found a more solid ground to stand on now. You’re happy that Nat and Carol are finally together. If you’re being honest, they look so much better standing hand-in-hand than glaring at each other like before. Maria and Wanda isn’t something you foresee but nonetheless, you can breathe better knowing that your best friend found a good girl to spend her days with. Not that they have admitted to dating yet.

“Thank you for coming out tonight.” Nat pulled you in a hug on the sidewalk while waiting for your Uber. Carol, Wanda, and Maria joined in too.

“Shut up, I like fifth wheeling with you guys.”

Nat and Carol laughed while Maria and Wanda blushed profusely.

“Tell me you’ll be there on Monday, please.”

Maria tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

***

It’s midnight when Lou and Debbie reached the bottom of the bottle of red wine she brought with her. Lou called her best friend after fleeing your apartment, and thankfully Daphne had plans with Tammy and Rose to go shopping that freed Debbie schedule.

“I regret asking you to come here,” Lou complained half drunk. “All you did was tease me. Very unhelpful.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot,” Debbie said laughing.

“I was trying to surprise her.”

“Look how that worked out for you,” Debbie deadpanned. Before Lou can answer though, there was a knock on her door. Debbie looked at the blonde but she only shrugged and stood up.

“Whoever it is, just turn them away. I’m not in the mood,” Lou said while pulling her shirt over her head. “I’m gonna shower and head to bed after.”

Debbie was left to open the door. She didn’t know who looked more surprise when she did, her or you. None of Lou’s ex-lovers or ex-girlfriend ever knew where she lives. Not even Therese and that says something. Therese was one of the longest relationships Lou ever kept yet the woman never truly knew where Lou lives.

Where does Lou fuck her women, you ask? Well, a professional fuckboy like Lou keeps a separate apartment across town where she brings her women. Yet there you were, in the flesh, standing outside her best friend’s sanctuary.

“Hey boss,” you greeted, cheeks a little flush from the wind outside and the alcohol in your system.

Debbie pulled the door open wider to let you in. You thank her while walking directly to the living room, and placing your discarded coat on the recliner. Proving to Debbie her assumption that it is not indeed your first time there. When you turned towards her, she was already putting her coat on. You couldn’t stop yourself from cocking an eyebrow at her.

“Lou’s in the shower trying to wash away her bad mood,” Debbie said smiling. “Good luck.” Then she’s out.

***

“Debs, can we call Daphne and tell her you’re sleeping over?” Lou asked while walking directly to her open kitchen to grab some water. She completely missed the silence in the room and the familiar coat hanging on her recliner.

“Debbie went home already.”

Lou nearly shattered the glass on her hand in her surprise. “Jesus Christ!”

“Nope, just me,” you said smiling at her. She didn’t return it. Instead, she turned around and drunk another glass of water.

“What are you doing here?” Lou asked, voice is a little distant and detaches even after noticing that you’re sitting on your side of the bed and wearing one of her pyjamas that are too long for you. She flicked the light switch off, bathing the room in darkness to prevent you from seeing her smile.

“I’m sleeping over.”

Bold of you to assume you can after ditching me for Nat and Carol, she thought bitterly. Yet she didn’t say it. She asked a question instead.

“What happened to your date?”

You laughed, aggravating her a little further. “It’s not a date, Odinson.”

“Right.” She sunk down on the mattress and turned her back on you. You curled yourself on her back immediately and planted a soft kiss on her shoulder.

“It’s not a date, Lou. If anything I was fifth wheeling. Maria and Wanda were there too, and I’m 100% sure those two are banging,” you explained excitedly.

Lou visibly relaxes with that information. She turned on her back to look at you but before she can say anything, you surged forward and kissed her. She pulled you on top of her, so she could kiss you properly and she did. Your head was becoming heady from the alcohol you consumed at the club, and the way Lou’s mouth tasted like wine and home.

“Wow,” you said after the need for air took over.

Lou has one of her hand cupping your jaw, her finger tracing the shape of your mouth. The other’s gliding down your neck, skimming across your chest and breast and moving slowly behind your back. She can feel the heat of your core against her abdomen. She guided your waist to start grinding against her abs, you both groaned at the action.

“Ah! Fuck,” you moaned. She kissed you again, both hands on your waist now. She wants your underwear off so she could feel you skin-to-skin but she’s too far out to take it off you.

“Baby,” she whispered against your lips. You smiled at her.

“You kiss better when you’re jealous.”

Lou gasped and halted your moment at once. “What do you mean I kiss better? Also, me? Jealous? Of who?”

You laughed. “Ah, let's see. Tammy, Daphne, Nat, Carol? The list goes on.”

Lou pouted before reversing your position in the bed in one swift motion. She looked down at you before she started pulling your underwear off of you. “Okay, okay. I was jealous,” she admitted. “Can you blame me? Everyone just wants you.”

You sat up and helped her pull her t-shirt off. If you’re gonna be naked, she has to. Especially since nothing beats the view of her abs, illuminated only by the city lights outside.

“Well, I only want you,” you admitted before pulling her on the bed with you.

Taglist: @kaytoopio @marvelfansince08love @marvelb00kwolf @shycucumbersandwich @subject7creed @inkstainedhandsofgold

#avengers crossover #avengers x oceans 8 #avengers x reader #avengers x oceans 8 crossover #avengers imagine #oceans 8 imagine #lou miller x reader #cate blanchett x reader #lou miller #cate blanchett

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phantomofthepairofdice · 4 years ago

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The Rosscars 2020

Wow. It’s that time of year again, only this time it’s different because it’s on a blog that no one will read! (hold for applause) Welcome to the first annual online publication for the Rosscars (hold for applause while the reader acknowledges how positively droll it is that I combined my name with “Oscars”). Who can forget such indelible Rosscar memories like when Steven Soderbergh surprised us all and won Best Director for Out of Sight or Bill Irwin’s beautiful speech upon winning Best Supporting Actor for Rachel Getting Married?! The Rosscars mean something different to everyone, but we all know that they mean quality choices made by a committee of one schmuck. This year’s Rosscars are bizarre because in an effort to be more like the Academy guidelines, film’s nominated have been released between January 1, 2020 and February 28, 2021. As usual, theatrical windows be damned, streamers are welcome. Of course, I have my gripes. I like categorizing movies by release year – specifically, when they become available to the plain old public like yours truly – not at festivals, limited runs in NYC and LA. Well, the Oscars are still weeks away and I feel like everybody wants to forget about last year and move onto this one that we’re already three months into - So here are my awards for the films, performers, and craftspeople that stood out in a pretty exceptional year for movies even though distribution was stranger than ever.

**A few caveats and guidelines to Rosscar newcomers (which I imagine is just a formality since we all know the Rosscars so well)**

The rules and categories are a little different around here. First, not every category is honored directly. That’s for a few reasons, chiefly that I don’t feel qualified to reward the technical categories properly – I suppose I should say that I feel less qualified to do so than the “above the line” categories. In keeping with the Academy standard, there are five nominees in each category, except for Best Picture, Best Non-Fiction/Documentary Feature, and Best Ensemble Cast which allow up to ten. Every category, save those three, will have the possibility of honorable mentions, because I want to highlight some things that just barely missed the cut. The narrowing down of a lot of these categories was awfully tough.

Nominees are listed alphabetically, and the winners are in bold and italics.

Also, it’s important to keep in mind that I couldn’t see everything (this isn’t a job and it’s still $20 to rent The Father, y’all) and that these are just the opinions of one (self-described) “bozo on the internet.” If you’re a reader and have different picks, feel free to share!

Special Commendations for some things that I want to recognize: • Ludwig Goransson for his Tenet score which is an absolute banger • The costumes of Emma. (Alexandra Byrne), Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (Ann Roth), and Small Axe (Jaqueline Durran, Sinéad Kidao, and Lisa Duncan) all struck me as exceptional • Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross with their scores for both Soul and Mank. Crazy that Pixar is working with the guy who made “Closer” • The cinematography of Da 5 Bloods (Newton Thomas Sigel), First Cow (Christopher Blauvelt), Beanpole (Kseniya Sereda), and A White, White Day (Maria von Hausswolff)

The Rosscars red carpet was, as usual, a bizarre affair. People filed into the theater and it seemed like the only encounters were awkward ones. Vin Diesel showed up in character as Bloodshot, Aaron Sorkin started getting really verbose about what a lovely night it was, and it became clear that most of the celebrities in attendance didn’t read their invitations closely enough to realize that this was not, in fact, the Academy Awards.

Everyone’s seated, and the show is under way. After a medley about the nominees this year by Common and Seth McFarlane that was more corny but clever than it was funny, the first official category is here, and the presenter is none other than... Ross!

Best Supporting Actor:

1. Chadwick Boseman for Da 5 Bloods

2. Matthew Macfadyen for The Assistant

3. Jesse Plemmons for Judas and the Black Messiah

4. Paul Raci for Sound of Metal

5. Glynn Turman for Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

Honorable Mentions:

• Lucas Hedges for Let Them All Talk

• Orion Lee for First Cow

• Bill Murray for On the Rocks

Best Supporting Actress:

1. Vanessa Bayer for Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar

2. Candice Bergen for Let Them All Talk

3. Gina Rodriguez for Kajillionaire

4. Amanda Seyfried for Mank

5. Yuon Yuh-jung for Minari

Honorable Mentions:

• Jane Adams for She Dies Tomorrow

• Charin Alvarez for Saint Frances

• Talia Ryder for Never Rarely Sometimes Always

• Debra Winger for Kajillionaire

Everyone loves a montage. The audience gets comfortable in their seats as the video screens start to show a montage of some of the most famous moments from Hollywood’s most magical movies. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers waltz, gliding across a dance floor like two hovering angels. There’s a clip of Leo declaring himself king of the world in Titanic, the flying bicycles in ET, Bogart stares longingly into Bacall’s eyes, and then there’s some scene where Tom Cruise rides a motorcycle from 2010′s Knight and Day. The audience all seems confused how that last one got in there. The John Williams music swells as little Kevin McAllister screams when puts on aftershave. We see clips of Robert De Niro in Taxi Driver, Carrie Fisher’s Princess Leia embrace Harrison Ford’s Han Solo, Bruce Lee smoothly declares that boards don’t hit back and... wait... was that a clip from Michel Gondry’s Green Hornet with Seth Rogen? And that’s a clip from What Happens in Vegas... Bad Teacher... Vanilla Sky... Shrek 2... Any Given Sunday... Everyone is flummoxed. The last clip fades out and a sole editing credit appears: Cameron Diaz. The lights come up and there’s some applause, but mostly confused murmurs.

The ceremony has had a bit of a misstep, but nothing it can’t recover from, especially as the next category is announced over the PA, and it looks like the presenter is... Ross!

Best Ensemble Cast:

1. Bacurau

2. Da 5 Bloods

3. Kajillionaire

4. Let Them All Talk

5. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

6. Minari

7. Nomadland

8. Pieces of a Woman

9. Small Axe

Best Original Screenplay:

1. Danny Bilson and Paul Dameo & Spike Lee and Kevin Wilmott for Da 5 Bloods

2. Lee Isaac Chung for Minari

3. Brandon Cronenberg for Possessor

4. Sean Durkin for The Nest

5. Kleber Mendonça Filho and Juliano Dornelles for Bacurau

Honorable Mentions – a very difficult task to weed this down to five.

• Shaka King and Will Berson for Judas and the Black Messiah, from a story by Kenny and Keith Lucas

• Steve McQueen, Alastair Siddons, and Courttia Newland for Small Axe

• Kelly O'Sullivan for Saint Frances

• Thomas Vinterberg and Tobias Lindholm for Another Round

Best Actor:

1. Ben Affleck for The Way Back

2. Chadwick Boseman for Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

3. Delroy Lindo for Da 5 Bloods

4. John Magaro for First Cow

5. Mads Mikkelsen for Another Round

Honorable Mentions:

• Riz Ahmed for Sound of Metal

• John Boyega for Small Axe

• Daniel Kaluuya for Judas and the Black Messiah

• Hugh Jackman for Bad Education

• Ingvar Eggert Sigurðsson for A White, White Day

We have a break in the action and it looks like Darius Rucker has showed up to perform what he would have nominated for Best Original Song. The crowd is absolutely furious as he starts playing a song that apparently was in Trial of the Chicago Seven. An ocean of sonorous boos and curses overtakes the the once docile crowd. The Rock just ripped his chair from out of the ground. Jane Lynch somehow smuggled in a civil war era flintlock pistol that she’s now pointing at the stage! Suddenly, the crowd unifies around what started as a confident chant of one lone audience member - John C Reilly. It’s growing... Ja Ja Ding Dong, Ja Ja Ding Dong, Ja Ja Ding Dong - it’s like the macabre circus performers from Tod Browning’s Freaks, but instead of chanting “Gooble Gobble” they’re clearly pining for Darius to change his tune to the silly and delightful jam from Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga. Darius, scared for his life, leaves the stage, but here come Will Ferrell and Rachel McAdams to deliver the goods. Busy Philips and Michelle Williams burst into tears. Tom Hanks nods in approval. A segment saved by brave artists placating a toxic group of fans... we’ve just witnessed a live version of the Snyder Cut, folks.

Jack Nicholson seems completely unfazed, giving a thumbs up to the camera and blowing a kiss to the next presenter. Coming to the stage is... Ross... again...

Best Actress:

1. Jessie Buckley for i’m thinking of ending things

2. Carrie Coon for The Nest

3. Han Ye-ri for Minari

4. Sidney Flanagan for Never Rarely Sometimes Always

5. Vasilisa Perelygina for Beanpole

Honorable Mentions – these cuts were especially painful

• Haley Bennet for Swallow

• Morfydd Clark for Saint Maud

• Frances McDormand for Nomadland

• Christin Milioti for Palm Springs

• Geraldine Viswanathan for Bad Education

Best Adapted Screenplay:

1. Charlie Kaufman for i'm thinking of ending things from Iain Reed's novel

2. Sarah Gubbins for Shirley from Susan Scarf Merrell's novel

3. Kelly Reichardt and John Raymond for First Cow

4. Simon Rich for American Pickle from his short story "Sell Out"

5. Mike Makowsky for Bad Education from Robert Kolker's "The Bad Superintendent"

Best Non-Fiction/Documentary Feature:

1. Boys State

2. Collective

3. David Byrne’s American Utopia

4. Dick Johnson is Dead

5. Feels Good Man

6. In & Of Itself

7. The Painter and the Thief

8. Time

Jimmy Fallon has come out on stage to do a bit about the pandemic and watching movies at home. People are just absolutely not having it. He tries not to laugh at his own jokes while doing what I guess is technically a pretty good impression of Dr. Fauci interviewing James Corden as Martin Scorsese (the less said of this impression, the better) on what is or isn’t cinema. The bit doesn’t track and Fallon is absolutely tanking. The producers cut away from the stage to spare the viewers at home from this monstrosity. We see crowd shots of Millie Bobby Brown shaking her head in dismay, Colin Firth is simultaneously grimacing and trying to stave off laughter, Cynthia Erivo is texting, and director Tom Hooper is taking notes for his next film. Corden yells, “Carpool Karaoke! Remember?!” Ron Howard has fainted. This thing is almost completely off the rails.

Coming back to the stage is the next presenter, a clearly embarrassed... Ross! He’s in a total flop sweat, but stumbles his way through a joke about how Fallon should try co-hosting the Oscars with James Franco sometime. There are scant chuckles throughout a crowd that mostly just wants to see who won and go home.

Best Director:

1. Christopher Nolan for Tenet

2. Spike Lee for Da 5 Bloods

3. Steve McQueen for Small Axe

4. Kelly Reichardt for First Cow

5. Chloé Zhao for Nomadland

Honorable Mentions:

• Kitty Green for The Assistant

• Eliza Hittman for Never Rarely Sometimes Always

• Charlie Kaufman for i'm thinking of ending things

• Thomas Vinterberg for Another Round

Best Picture

1. Bacurau

2. Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar

3. Da 5 Bloods

4. First Cow

5. i'm thinking of ending things

6. Judas and the Black Messiah

7. Never Rarely Sometimes Always

8. Nomadland

9. Small Axe

10. Tenet

Accepting the award for best picture is none other than Eve, the cow actor who played the titular First Cow! The audience is enamored with how graceful she looks in her cow gown, and her speech, though indecipherable, is likely simple, observational, and deeply profound for those who speak cow.

Wow, what a ceremony! Hearts were broken, property was damaged, dreams were fulfilled... blood was shed? Damn it, Meryl Streep came in and mugged Charlie Kaufman before absconding with the trophy. Oddly, she’s a previous winner, so the attack isn’t out of need for hardware. People are reading through articles about production on Adaptation for potential motives. Streep made time for a photo opportunity, but remains at large.

I could go on ad infinitum about all of these nominees and winners themselves and why they did or didn’t make the cut, but that’d be better served in a different piece. For now, my thoughts on most of these can be found on the Best of 2020 write-up and over on my Letterboxd. And, as always, these awards can be revoked and redistributed at will, so don’t get too cozy with that statue, Danny Bilson!

On behalf of the RAOGL (Rosscars Association of One Guy at a Laptop), thanks for reading, and stay tuned as we’re establishing a tip line for anyone has seen Ms. Streep or her stolen valor Rosscar. We’ll see you next year. Keep watching movies, and keep arbitrarily quantifying them in terms of subjective quality!

#awards #movies #film #Rosscars

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love-little-lotte · 5 years ago

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My Ranking of Outlander Season 5 Episodes

Wow. This has been such a great season! It really felt fresh and well-made. It’s like we’re thrown back to earlier seasons, and I love it so much. The writing is a whole lot better; the direction is creative and new – but never to a point that it got dreary and boring; there is a significant amount of change that I really liked. Overall, a brilliant and amazing season.

I’ve done something like this from the previous season (click here, if you’re interested), and now I guess I’m doing it again! It’s a lot harder, though, because I really liked most of the Season 5 episodes. I even wish it was longer! Twelve episodes seemed so short. I wish we could back to earlier episodes when we have more than fifteen episodes for one season.

So, to start off my Droughtlander (ugh, I cry thinking about Season 6 – it seems so far away), this is my ranking of Outlander Season 5 episodes! Before I begin, let me just say that this is my opinion, so please be polite. No need to tell me that you prefer this over that because obviously, this is my ranking. Also, just so you know, I haven’t read The Fiery Cross. I’ve only read Outlander, Dragonfly in Amber, and the first few chapter of Voyager. So, I may make mistakes about what happened in the books and such, since I only watch the TV show.

#12: Episode 3 - Free Will

Technically not a bad episode, but this is the one that I least liked out of all. It was a bit draggy, but definitely not boring. Nothing is boring when Jamie and Claire faces danger together!

So, in this episode, Josiah revealed that he has a twin named Keziah. They both escaped from the Beardsleys, who apparently abused the both of them. But without their right papers, the twins were not really free. So, of course, Jamie and Claire just had to save the day and take it upon themselves to go to the Beardsleys and pay for their indenture. Also, Jamie left Roger in charge while he’s gone. It’s funny to see Roger try to lead the men. It’s not his fault by all means – after all, this was not his time and he has zero knowledge how to lead these soldiers.

At the Beardsleys, Jamie and Claire found out that Mr. Beardsley was incredibly injured and at the brink of death, while Mrs. Beardsley was pregnant and admitted that she’s slowly torturing her husband because he used to physically abuse her. Claire helped Mrs. Beardsley give birth, only to find out that the baby was dark-skinned, which meant it wasn’t Mr. Beardsley’s child. The next morning, the missus was out of the house (wow, that recovery!), leaving her newborn baby in Jamie and Claire’s care. Jamie then faced a tough decision to euthanize Mr. Beardsley, who wanted his pain to end. Something tells me that this is going to be an important thing in the future...

#11: Episode 5 - Perpetual Adoration

Also not a bad episode, to be honest. In this episode, we get another flashback of Claire’s time in the 60s. This time, she’s seen treating a patient by the name of Graham Menzies. Sounds familiar? I’ve read that it’s a nod to Graham McTavish and Tobias Menzies – two of my favorite actors from the earlier seasons. Loved that reference to them; I also miss seeing them in this show! (But maybe Tobias as Frank because I could not, for the life of me, handle another Black Jack Randall shenanigan, even just in a flashback.) Well, this particular patient was actually Claire’s reason to finally go back to Scotland with Bree. It got a bit philosophical in the flashbacks, too! Also, Claire was able to make penicillin out of 18th century materials. Is there anything that this woman couldn’t do?

Jamie, on the other hand, was catching up with Lieutenant Knox, where the lieutenant told him that he’s going to pardon the Regulators, except Murtagh. This left Jamie no choice but to kill Knox – also because he has a list of Ardsmuir prisoners and as you all know, Jamie’s one of them. Pretty sad about Knox, though. He really trusted Jamie and he seemed like an okay guy. But he had to die!

Bree and Roger also had some problems in this episode. Roger finally found out about what happened with Stephen Bonnet and Bree before they tried to blew up the jail cell the previous season. Roger obviously (but not understandably hmpf) got mad but eventually changed his mind when Claire reassured him that it’s going to be all right. I’m not a big fan of Roger (let’s just get that out of the way), and his reaction in this particular episode. For the sake of drama, I guess.

Also, a new pet is in town! Adso finally made his first appearance at the end of this episode. He’s such a cute wee thing.

#10: Episode 2 - Between Two Fires

One of my favorite things in Outlander is when Claire flaunts her medical knowledge to the 18th century people. I love seeing their expressions, especially when they try to mentally calculate if this woman is a genius or a witch. Sadly, in this episode, there’s one patient Claire couldn’t save because it was too late. This seemed to unravel something in her. It’s devastating to lose a patient, especially when he/she could still be saved. But, even though she’s an expert healer, some people wouldn’t listen to her because she’s not an actual physician. So, Claire decided to make up “Dr. Rawlings.”

Also, I love that Claire picked Marsali as an apprentice! I really loved her character even from Season 3, and I was hoping to get more scenes with her in Season 4. But it was only in this season that her character shined brightly. Marsali was weirded out at first, obviously, but with Claire’s guidance, she’s good to go.

All away from Fraser’s Ridge, Jamie and Lieutenant Knox are fighting off Regulators. While confronting three prisoners, Knox lost his temper and accidentally killed one. At nightfall, Jamie helped the other two to escape. I love Jamie whenever he’s trying to be a hero and all, but sometimes, it just worries too much that he’s always stepping it up. Well, he’s the King of Men, I guess.

The ending of this episode was horrifying and intense because we see Stephen Bonnet, fully alive and plotting evil. I hate him so much, but Ed Speelers is an amazing actor.

#09: Episode 9 - Monsters and Heroes

Despite having this episode in the bottom part of the list, I just want to say that Sam Heughan was amazing in this episode. His acting was top-notch, and I find myself, once again, questioning the awards committee why they haven’t given him an award. Yes, give me more scenes of him writhing in pain!

This episode was highly intense, but it felt almost too draggy. Jamie and company were out hunting when they decided to split up. Jamie and Roger went together, and Jamie was bitten by a venomous snake. Roger tried to look for the others but to no avail. So they decided to camp for the night, in which Jamie told Roger that if he does not survive, it must be him who’s going to kill Stephen Bonnet for him.

Which absolutely no makes sense! Not the killing of Bonnet, but Jamie not surviving. He survived tons of other crap in his life, and I cannot believe he’s dying from a freaking snake. It just does not makes sense. Can you just imagine if he really died? Like a small snake ended Jamie Fraser’s life? It’s just heartbreaking.

The next day, Roger tried dragging Jamie with him while looking for the others. They were eventually found, and they brought him to Claire so she can fix him up. But not even Claire could even save him. The only thing she needs is her syringe, which was destroyed by friggin Lionel Brown (which, let me tell you, is the worst character to ever come out in this season). When Jamie found out his bite was way serious than he ever imagined, he told Claire to kill him instead of amputating his venom-filled leg, which broke Claire. Also, Caitriona Balfe’s acting during her conversation with Bree by the stairs was top-notch!

Jamie almost gave up that night, but with some intense body touching, Claire was able to bring him back to life. It was a touching moment, for sure. Get it? Anyway, it was Young Ian who told him to get a grip of himself – it’s just a leg. His father lost a leg and Fergus lost a hand, but they’re still happy and alive. Which I just want to applause to.

And when all hope seemed lost, it was our little engineer Bree who saved the day! She was able to form a syringe of her own using the tooth of the snake which bit Jamie. Through this, Claire was able to save Jamie’s leg. Yay!

#08: Episode 10 - Mercy Shall Follow Me

I know I’ve said I haven’t read The Fiery Cross yet, but I have read in tons of posts that the killing of Stephen Bonnet was not part of the aforementioned book; he actually met his demise in the next book. But whatever the reasons why they sped up the process, I want to thank the producers and writers for putting it here in this season. The Bonnet storyline was kind of losing touch and was getting draggy. I’d rather have them focus on new things in the next season.

Jamie, Roger, and Young Ian were putting their plot in motion to kill Bonnet through ambushing him when Bonnet himself failed to show up in the said ambush. That’s because he’s at the beach, following Claire and Bree as they were enjoying the ocean breeze. He eventually knocked Claire unconscious and kidnapped Bree.

Bree woke up to find herself in a dingy and shady place, but she was not kept as a prisoner – or so Bonnet tried to tell her. He told her he wanted to change and they even had this strange role play where they eat dinner and Bree told him the story of Moby Dick. We actually get to know Bonnet’s past in this episode. We learn that he’s deathly afraid of water, for one thing.

It seemed to go all right for Bree until Bonnet told her to kiss him, and when she did, he got the sense that she was faking and lo and behold, he was right. This angered him and even started having sex with a prostitute in front of Bree, which was downright disgusting. Anyway, Ed Speelers is a terrific actor!

Jamie and Claire finally find out where Bonnet’s hiding Bree through that prostitute to whom Bonnet was having sex with. Bonnet, fed up with Bree’s ridiculous antics, decided to sell her to a man. But before anything could happen, Jamie, Claire, Roger, and Young Ian were able to save her. Bree was given the choice to end Bonnet’s life, but she decided to give him a fair trial by the government. Bonnet was sentenced to death by drowning, but before he could even die, Bree shot him through the head in a distance. Roger asked her if this was what she wanted or if was to make sure he’s really dead, but Bree was silent, which leaves us to decide what that meant.

I’ve said this before: I wasn’t a fan of Sophie Skelton’s acting, but she definitely improved in this season! She was able to show some emotions and depth in her character. She was unable to convince me before, but she truly made an impact in this season.

#07: Episode 4 - The Company We Keep

Were you ready to see Jamie Fraser dancing in this episode? Because I sure as hell was not! It was such a delight to see him trotting about while he and Claire smile at each other.

But before we got to that scene, we had to watch Roger painfully lead the men to Brownsville (which is totally an insane and ridiculous name for a village – I know this was in the 18th century, but I hope there were poop jokes about them). Not a minute they stepped foot in this place, everything’s gone to chaos. It turns out Isaiah Morton, one of the men, had some problems with one of the guys in Brownsville. Isaiah apparently “disgraced” Lionel Brown’s daughter, Alicia, by sleeping with her, and now she cannot marry this rich guy her father arranged for her.

Jamie and Claire eventually caught up with them, and were able to free Isaiah by letting him escape and to never show his face there again. Claire finally found a new home for Mrs. Beardsley’s newborn baby in Brownsville, Jamie finally got the Brownsville men to join him in his militia to fight the Regulators, and everyone finally had a good time and partied all night long.

One of my favorite moments in the season was in this episode wherein Jamie told Claire that she looked happy while taking care of the newborn baby. He told her that she looked great as a mother, and it saddened me that he never got to see her as one. Jamie told her if she’s sure to give the baby away because maybe it’s their last chance to raise a baby together. Claire was like, “No,” but she appreciated the thought of it. They’re too old to have a baby again, and she already liked their life together. Even so, that was such a sweet moment for the both of them!

Isaiah decided to return to whisk Alicia away, and then she revealed she’s pregnant with his child. While this all seemed great for them, Jamie and Roger were not happy with Isaiah’s return because it might stir up some trouble. But Isaiah was able to convince them that he truly loved Alicia and wouldn’t they do the same thing for their wives. And that’s how it’s done!

#06: Episode 8 - Famous Last Words

A very unique and creative episode. I think I haven’t seen an episode quite like this before, and it’s such a breath of fresh air. I like what the concept of showing the events like a silent film in comparison to what Roger’s facing.

Richard Rankin was amazing in this episode. I think he really delivered well in showing Roger’s trauma and stress after his horrific ordeal. Roger is actually so beaten up in Outlander; it’s really devastating. Last season, he was taken by the Mohawks, and now this. And to think, he wasn’t a warrior or anything – he’s only an Oxford man.

Three months after the Battle of Alamance, Roger was still quiet and could not utter a word. Bree was worried about him, and confided to Claire about her roommate’s boyfriend who was shell-shocked after the Vietnam War. Meanwhile, Roger kept reliving his deathly experience in silence. Usually, I’m not a big fan of Roger (as I said earlier) but I feel bad for what his character has gone through.

Also, Young Ian finally came back in this episode! As someone who haven’t read the books, this took me by surprise. I didn’t know he’s returning, but I am so happy that he is! I really love his character. He’s not the same Young Ian as we’ve seen before, though. He was much more mature and fiercer. There are secrets he’s keeping from his family, which we’ll probably find out more in the next season.

It was actually Young Ian who made Roger speak up again (quite just like the way how he was the one who set Jamie straight when he was bitten by the snake). Ian was asked to help Roger check out some land, and the two of them bonded. Ian told him how lucky he was to have his wife and child with him, even though he was thoroughly beaten from the battle. Roger was alive with a family, and to Ian, that seemed to be everything. Roger, in return, also saved Ian from killing himself. I’d like to see more of this duo in the future, please.

#05: Episode 6 - Better To Marry Than Burn

As soon as the trailer for Season 5 dropped, I’ve heard the words “stable sex” more than once in forums. I didn’t know what it was about – only that involves Jamie and Claire having sex in a stable (obviously). So you could imagine my enthusiasm when I finally see a stable in this episode!

Before that, though, there is a party because Jocasta getting married to some guy who’s not Murtagh. Which is a total loss because I shipped them so hard! We also got to see some flashbacks with Jocasta losing her daughter because of her husband’s cause in the fight against the English long ago.

While mingling with some of the guests, Claire was approached by this ridiculous-looking man called Phillip Wylie, who’s beyond annoying. He flirted with her shamelessly, and she rejected his actions but was immediately interested when she realized he might be the key to capture Stephen Bonnet. But everything got out of hand when he suddenly tried to kiss her. Thankfully, Jamie arrived on time and was able to save her from this man.

But when Claire told him that he might be the answer to the Bonnet problem, Jamie decided to make a gamble with Wylie. Unfortunately, this involved Claire giving up Frank’s ring, which made her unbelievably mad. Later on, when Claire went back to the stables, Jamie drunkenly walked in. Claire’s still angry with him about the rings, but the anger doubled when she found out he was drunk. Jamie told her that he won the bet, and that they should celebrate. There were some fights, then Claire slapped him, and then they kissed and ta-da: stable sex!

Unfortunately, I had high hopes with what the stable sex was going to be and that was not it. I was expecting steamier scenes, but okay, I’ll take this one. It was hilarious, still.

Oh, I almost forgot. Back at Fraser’s Ridge, Bree and Roger fight some some sort of locusts evading the place, just like the ten plagues. But they were able to stop this through some smart science and shit. I couldn’t care less about their plot in this episode; all exciting things happen in River Run at the moment!

But the most heartbreaking thing that ever happened in this episode was Jocasta and Murtagh. The night before the wedding, Murtagh sneaked in Jocasta’s room and begged her not to marry Innes. This broke Jocasta, but still, she couldn’t just run away with Murtagh. She chose a man with a cause before, and she lost her daughter. This woman couldn’t take any heartbreaks anymore, and Murtagh left, heartbroken. And as you know, that would be their last conversation...

#04: Episode 12 - Never My Love

I thought we can go past one season without anyone getting raped, but here we are. I know this was included in the books, but there were so many changes from book to screen in this season – why couldn’t they changed this one? It was too heartbreaking and sad. I don’t know if it’s unnecessary, but I did read one article that said they could’ve just not included that part.

Anyway, this episode was absolutely harrowing and downright terrifying. This show does not shy away from brutal scenes like this, for sure. I am devastated for Claire because she obviously does not deserve that treatment! In her own words, she survived a World War and losing a child. She will not let this one destroy her. But, of course, Claire’s only human and she’s gone through deep trauma in this episode. It’s only fair for her to feel this way.

Lionel Brown (honestly, I hate this guy more than anyone in this season and that includes Stephen Bonnet) kidnapped Claire out of her own home with the help of some other guys, beat her senseless, and even raped her. This really “shookt” me out of my core. It didn’t ruin me like that season finale in Season 1 (which still haunts me to this day) but I am still horrified.

Also, this episode was really creative in showing Claire’s ordeal. It had dream sequences of Claire in 1960s with Jamie and their family celebrating Thanksgiving, with the exception of Bree, Roger, and Jemmy. It included a lot of Easter eggs, such as the vase from the pilot episode and the rabbit from Jamie’s dream in the Battle of Culloden (if I’m not mistaken...?) The production design was also very intricate. The attention to details is brilliant!

Jamie and his men were finally able to save Claire, but she felt ruined. They killed every men in the group, but it seemed like Lionel survived. They took him as a prisoner and brought him to Fraser’s Ridge. Claire was still mending her scars, but she found herself in her clinic with Lionel and Marsali. Yes, she took an oath to do no harm to other people, but do you really expect her to save him from his wounds after what he’s done to her? Hell no! It was too much for her to bear and so she left, crying. It was actually Marsali who ended Lionel’s life with her own hand. Ugh, I love Marsali this season! She was beyond amazing and I love how her character has grown.

This was surely an intense episode, and I love the additional twists of the dream sequence. Caitriona Balfe blew me away in this episode; just give her the Golden Globe and Emmy, please. The final shot of Jamie and Claire is beautiful. One of the best season finales of the show.

#03: Episode 1 - The Fiery Cross

Season 5 really started strong with this first episode. We had a wedding, dancing, sex, singing, burning crosses, kilts, babies! I love it so much!

Finally, Bree’s getting married to Roger, and her parents are here to see it! It’s a wonderful moment for everyone. I am in love with Bree’s dress and the pearls she’s wearing (which her mother wore in her honeymoon sex with her father, let me just add). The wedding was sweet and lighthearted.

But, of course, this is Outlander and we’re not here to have a good time – there’s always something we’re fighting off. In the very first episode, Lord John Grey confided in Jamie that Stephen Bonnet might be alive, which Bree overheard. This was her wedding night, people, give her a rest! Of course, she was visibly shaken, but she kept the information to herself. Also, Tryon was pressuring Jamie to join forces with him and fight for The Crown.

In addition, there were a love-making montage while the L-O-V-E song was being played in the background. Out of place, for sure, but sweet nonetheless. Murtagh and Jocasta managed to sneak in the woods and have some time for themselves. Jamie and Claire were in charge with Jemmy for the night, but that didn’t stop them from getting some action themselves. And, of course, the married couple Bree and Roger finally had a proper honeymoon.

Remember when Tryon was pressuring Jamie to gather some men to fight for The Crown? Well, Jamie faced an impossible decision because obviously he does not want to hunt down his godfather Murtagh. But he can’t also betray Tryon because he doesn’t want to lose his land. And so, he finally gave in and lit the fiery cross, calling the men to fight with him. He included Roger, and even gave him the title of “Captain.” Weird flex, but okay.

This was entirely a good start for a good season. I even watched it twice when it first came out because I was so excited!

#02: Episode 11 - Journeycake

One of the best Outlander episodes, and this one totally made me cry. I hate goodbyes, but Outlander does it best. This episode was also written by the original author herself, Diana Gabaldon. My expectations were high, of course, and she definitely did not disappoint!

Now that Stephen Bonnet is gone and that they have confirmed that Jemmy can travel through the stones, there’s no reason for Bree and Roger to stay any longer. Bree has already delivered the cryptic message to her parents that they will die in the fire. So, she and Roger decided to leave, especially that there’s a Revolutionary War coming on.

Also, Young Ian finally knows about the truth about Claire, Bree, and Roger – they are time travelers from the future. About time, actually! He deserved to know the truth long time ago. But something’s weird: Ian actually wanted to go through the stones himself, too. I have no idea why, but it’s probably going to be about his time with the Mohawks (which I’m totally looking forward to know about in the next season).

Also, there’s a hot sex scene with Claire and Jamie in this episode, which totally makes up for that awkward, rushed stable sex from the other episode. It involved Jamie going down on Claire while she’s sitting by the window pane. It’s daring and steamy! Trust Diana Gabaldon to perfect that scene.

Before Bree and Roger leave, they said their goodbyes to everyone first. Marsali even admitted that she sees Bree as a sister, which breaks my heart, because they totally deserve more screen time together! Lizzie also tearfully said her goodbye to her mistress Bree, and it’s quite heartbreaking because all this time, she thought she’s coming along with them as well. Poor Lizzie.

Claire also made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as her last meal for Bree and Roger. I don’t know how she was able to make peanut butter and jelly with 18th century resources, but I do know that it was painstakingly hard so kudos to Claire for her dedication in making the perfect PB&J sandwich! Jamie’s reaction was totally hilarious, too!

When Bree and Roger finally left (but for some reason, they couldn’t go through the stones – more explanation maybe in the next season), Claire and Jamie were finally left alone in Fraser’s Ridge. While Claire and Marsali were tending on a patient, Jamie and some of his men checked out some commotion. However, this was only a ploy for Lionel Brown and his men to kidnap Claire straight from her home. It’s terrifying, and I didn’t like what happened next.

#01: Episode 7 - The Ballad of Roger Mac

The major highlight of the season! I was ready to get hurt in this episode, but damn, nothing prepared me for what was about to happen.

The whole episode reminded me of the Prestonpans episode from Season 2. Jamie was fighting with his men in the Battle of Alamance, while Claire was tending the patients. Ah, but before that, let’s celebrate Jamie Fraser’s fiftieth birthday! I don’t know how this guy is 50, but he is. He and Claire *cough* did some celebrating of their own before shit went down in the fight.

While all the others were preparing for the fight, Bree was staying with Aunt Jocasta when she finally realized that the fight was going to take place in Alamance Creek. This made her remember an importance piece of history. The militia will win, and the Regulators will lose. Of course, she took it upon herself to warn her parents. Thankfully, Bree has inherited her mother’s memory cells.

Roger eventually volunteered to be the one to tell Murtagh and his men that they were doomed to fail, and Jamie let him. This was going on pretty smoothly, and Roger was able to tell Murtagh what he came for. Unfortunately, he ran into someone he knew (that woman he met in the ship from Season 4) and they were caught in a harmless innocent hug by the woman’s husband. The husband was none other than William Mackenzie, played by Graham McTavish! While it’s good to see him in the series again, I am pissed because they beat up Roger.

Meanwhile, Jamie was forced to wear a redcoat uniform, which was just downright offensive. Jamie’s entire life was dedicated to fighting off redcoats, and now he’s one of them. It truly broke my heart to see him like that. You just know he’s struggling and trying to keep his senses.

In the battle, Jamie was fighting with some Regulator when Murtagh himself showed up and saved him. There were some smiles; however, it was cut short when Murtagh was shot by one of Jamie’s militia men. Jamie tried to save him, and even dragged Murtagh back to Claire so she could save him, but it was all too late. And I am broken. I was crying when I was watching this episode, and it just broke me. Murtagh was one of my favorite characters, and I was so happy they brought him back last season. But now... I’m just broken. When the fight was over, Jamie took off the redcoat and just smashed it down in front of Tryon. This man was just fed up!

But while this was going on, Bree was worrying about Roger, as he still haven’t showed up after going to the Regulators. So, she, Claire, and Jamie tried looking for him. They finally came upon a tree with three men hanging on a tree with sacks over their heads; they were left to die. Jamie recognized Roger to be one of them because of the white handkerchief on his pocket that he had given to him earlier.

This was really a good episode, and hats off to Sam Heughan and Caitriona Balfe’s acting. They were superb. Oh, as well as Duncan Lacroix, who I really admired as Murtagh! It’s so sad to see him leave the show!

***

Well, there you have it! My ranking of Season 5 episodes. I hope you had as much fun as I did with Outlander this season. It was incredibly fun, and a huge improvement from previous season. Tell me what you think!

#outlander #outlander season 5 #caitriona balfe #sam heughan #sophie skelton #richard rankin #claire #jamie #bree #roger #outlander starz #outlander tv show #season 5

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moshymosh · 5 years ago

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The Switch pt 3

A/N: This is the next part, some shit is getting started in this. This whole series was so fun to write, send me some head cannons for this and ill do some.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Stark!Reader

Summary: One woman’s dream and one man’s drunken mistake. Will things turn out ok or will things go downhill.

|Previous part | Next Part|

Bucky sighs and sits on his bed as he sorted through his mail that Steve handed him at lunch.

"Junk, Fanmail, Fanmail, Fanmail, Junk, and more junk." Bucky said as he tossed the envelopes to the side until he reached a baby pink one and written on, it was Y/N's handwriting. Smiling, he began to open it and pulled out the card inside of it, not noticing the pink and blue confetti that fell to the floor.

The card was an invite to Y/N's party. The invite said, "You're invited to Y/N's I'm getting pregnant party." Bucky chuckled and looked down at his feet at the sperm shaped confetti that fell from the envelope at this sight he busted out laughing. He double-checked the time on the invite and then looked up at the clock. He was almost an hour late. Rushing to get ready, he made it into Y/N's apartment just shy of the hour lateness.

Bucky made his way over to the makeshift bar on Y/N's kitchen island, pouring himself a glass of Asgardian mead and looked around at the people in the apartment. He recognized his teammates and a few other people, but everyone else must have been friends of Y/N. Bucky was off in his own world, he didn't notice Wanda sliding up beside him.

"Hey, Bucky." Wanda said, giggling when Bucky flinched beside her.

"Hey, Wanda, so who throws an insemination party?" Bucky mumbles as he takes a drink from his glass.

"This whole night was my idea, it's how everyone is doing it these days." Wanda says while waving at Nat and Vision across the room. "Y/N is going to go into the other room, then we're all going to leave, and she's gonna, like, do the deed with this big baster." Wanda finishes holding up a big turkey baster in front of Bucky.

Bucky looks at what she's holding up in shock "Uh... shouldn't that be uh, like, cleaned or something?" he looks at the bar beside Wanda. "Why is it up here?"

Wanda laughed and started tapping him on the head and shoulders with it. "I'm messing with you." Bucky batted her hands and the baster away. Once Wanda sat the baster down, she turned back to him with a shrug. " She's going to use a medical device, but it's basically the same thing."

Bucky turned and muttered a 'Charming.' as Wanda walked away to go dance with Nat. He walked around the kitchen island to go refill his drink.

"This is a strange one." A man beside him muttered as he filled up his own drink.

Bucky looked up from his task with a hum. "Only Y/N and Wanda would do something like this." He said, looking back at his glass as he filled it, the mead did a good job of getting Thor and the super-soldiers drunk.

"Oh, I don't know Y/N very well." The man said as he turned to Bucky. "I'm Nathan." He stated as he held his hand out to Bucky. Once Bucky shook his hand Nathan said something that shocked Bucky. "I'm the uh, donor."

"I'm Bucky, the best friend, Y/N's best friend." Bucky stated as he turned to lean back against the counter. "So uh, why you doing this?"

"Uh, we need the money." Nathan said, taking a drink with his glass with a sharp intake of breath through his teeth.

"We?" Bucky asked him, looking at Nathan over his glass that he started to take a drink of.

"Yeah, My wife and I." Nathan said, nodding his head before pointing to a girl standing by the elevator looking around awkwardly. She stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Ok." Wanda said, walking up to Bucky and Nathan, placing a Viking helmet, that was obviously from a costume shop, on Nathan's head. "It's game time."

Bucky gave Nathan a tight-lipped smile as Wanda lead Nathan somewhere in Y/N's apartment. Bucky sighed, finished his drink, and filled it up again. He repeated the process another time, trying to curb his jealousy that Nathan was going to be the father of Y/N's baby and not him. Bucky sighed deeply again and pushed himself off the counter that he was still leaning against and went to look for Y/N.

Bucky stopped outside of her bedroom door, he peeked in the crack in the door from the door being slightly open. He felt his heart stutter at the sight of her. Y/N was sitting on the alcove that was against the window of her bedroom, she was wearing high waisted black shorts, an oversized white shirt, that she obviously stole from him, that was tucked into her shorts. Her leather jacket she must've taken off throughout the night was on the alcove by her feet.

To Bucky, she was breathtaking, he wished he could make her his. Bucky tapped against the doorframe to get her attention. Bucky smiled at her when she looked over her shoulder at him.

"Hi, Bucky boy." Y/N said sweetly as he walked into the room, shutting the door behind him

"I just met your Viking." Bucky said as he moved her jacket so he could sit with her.

Bucky pulled her sock-clad feet into his lap, beginning to rub small circles on her ankles.

"Gorgeous, isn't he?" Y/N hummed out while she turned her head to look out the window again.

"Yeah, delicious." Bucky said sarcastically, looking over at her. "What's going on?"

Y/N looked back at him, her heart fluttering at the sight of his ocean blue eyes. "The truth?"

"Mhm." Bucky hummed, reaching up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Y/N smiled at the gesture. "I'm freaking out." She said as she looked down at the glass of wine in her hands. "I really thought that throwing a party would, you know, make it fun, but it's just really depressing." Y/N looked back up at him as she finished speaking.

Bucky smiled, sadly to her, tilting his head slightly. " Come on Y/N/N."

"You think that I'm crazy, don't you?" Y/N asked him while she reached forward to grab his metal hand. Bucky's heart soared as she began to play with his fingers.

Bucky smiled down at their hands. "I think that you wanna have a child, and I think that that's natural. You're not nuts." Bucky looked up as she took a deep breath, her eyes still glued to their hands. Bucky clasped her hand in his metal one, gently before he spoke. "You're ok."

Y/N smiled at him as she looked up from their hands. "Thank you." She said, reaching forward to hug him. "Oh, Bucky, thank you." She leaned up and pressed one hand on his cheek so she could kiss the other. "You get it."

Bucky smiled as she leaned her head on his shoulder before he kissed her forehead. He smiled again as he rested his head on top of hers, thinking that this is where she belonged, like this with him. She hugged him tighter with a grunt before getting up.

"Where's my crown?" Y/N asked as she looked around for the flower crown Wanda and Nat made for her. When she found it, she put it on, sighing out, "I'm going to be fine." Turning around to look at Bucky as he sat on the alcove.

"I'm just a little emotional." Y/N nodded at him.

"Your crown looks fantastic," Bucky said genuinely as he smiled at her.

"Bye, Bucky boy." She said softly, waving as she walked to the door. Once she left, Bucky sighed and turned to look out her window at the setting sun. The sound of the party pouring in the door, which she left slightly open when she took her leave. Bucky sighed again at his glass as he raised it to his mouth and finished it off.

Bucky got up with a grunt, leaving the room to refill his glass yet again. Bucky was about six glasses of Asgardian mead in when he leaned up against one of the concrete supports that were littered throughout the apartment when he heard Wanda call out for a toast.

"Before we get to the nitty-gritty and kick you all out." Wanda smiled as she received a few howls and laughs. "I'd like to purpose a toast to our donor Nathan." Wanda said as she raised her glass of wine and searched the open room for him, once she spotted him, she pointed him out to everyone.

"How'd it go in there?" Tony asked, earning a slap on the arm from Pepper.

"I'd also like to toast to our Y/N." Wanda said as she held her glass up to the woman in question.

Bucky smiled fondly at the girl of the hour as he swayed slightly against the post.

Bucky tuned out the rest of Wanda's toast, he was way too drunk to pay attention to her, he was busy daydreaming about what a life with Y/N by his side would be like. Bucky was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt the urge to use the bathroom.

Bucky pushed himself off the post and stumbled to use Y/N's guest bathroom, leaning against the wall he pounded against the door with his flesh hand. "Dude, I'm in here!" A female voice called out as he pounded on the door. He pounded on the door again before he got another response from the woman inside. "Go use the other one!"

Bucky groaned and pushed himself off the wall heading to the bathroom in Y/N's bedroom. Bucky turned against the shut bathroom door, seeing all of Y/N's fertility calculations and trackers, he giggled at the sight. "Oh, Y/N." Bucky sighed and went to do his business.

When he finished, he went to wash his hands and splash a little water on his face, reaching for a towel on the bottom shelf of the shelving unit. Drying his face, still crouched, he looked up, towel paused on his chin. Bucky squinted his eyes and tilted his head to clear the slight blurriness from his eyes.

There sat on a warmer was Nathan's donation in a collection cup.

#bucky barns x reader smut #bucky imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #seb stan x reader #seb stan x y/n #Karmawrites #Moshymoshwrites

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devil-kindred · 4 years ago

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death stranding adventures- final

I finished Death Stranding!

A recap on the events through the end of the game + my thoughts as they occurred below the cut! Beware spoilers if you haven’t played the game!

- left port knot with the order for fragile and found myself looking at a sea of the blob BTs- not exactly a joyous moment. I finally figured out why they look familiar though! They resemble the Portuguese man o’war! Which makes sense in keeping with the beached/aquatic creature theme given: the fish that show up after you defeat the catchers, the catchers themselves, THE WHALE, the little floating crabs, etc. The lions don’t fit the theme obviously, but I chalk that up to them being more of a Higgs thing? Since he’s the reason you encounter one in the first place.

- I got Sam through the floating BT minefield without too much trouble by hugging the moutainside and using the rifle to take out the ones that were closest to make a path. After that, there was a brief reprieve and then I had to fight a catcher BT. Did that then the normal BTs appeared once I progressed a little further. Made it past that, then rushed through mule territory and then, more BTs. This time 4-5 lion BTs (i don’t remember which but I know it was more than 3 because I thought I was done and then about got Sam stomped on by the one that I missed). Finally finished that and got a TON of chiral crystals for my trouble which was admittedly kinda nice, though my thoughts were mostly “please just let me finish this delivery T_T” by that point.

- Continued the trek to the Capitol Knot City and noticed the sky had changed from a color I refer to as “tornado green” to this very ominous red shade. Not a good sign, followed by rumbling noises that made a even worse sign. Nearly to the city gate (as in maybe the length of one of the bridges you can build level close) and then. A whale. Falls. Out of the sky. ._. Guessed it was time for round whatever number I was on at this point and once again, Sam with the standard reaction to weird BTs goes “what the fuck”. My thoughts exactly at this point.

- Climbed onto whatever thing that emerged from the tar was closest and then clambered onto a building that appeared. Was helped once again (as I was with the previous fights) by a ghostly Sam that lobbed all sorts of neat useful things my way, most importantly two grenade launchers and a multi rocket launcher. Thank you ghostly Sam! I would’ve been doomed without your help. Defeated the whale, collected more chiral crystals, then FINALLY made it to capitol knot.

- Delivered the items to Fragile who looked... really not well. I was concerned there was going to be another loss, but Sam waved a cryptobiote in front of her face and she woke up. Prior to Sam walking up to he, Mama/Lockne ran over and tried to hug him which Sam was (understandably) having absolutely none of but at least he was kinda gentle when he stopped her.

- They explained the whole thing that happened and how Fragile was essentially bounced back from Amelie’s beach and that she wanted Sam to go to her. So they have a long convo about how Sam needs to go and has to find a way to stop her, but also understand that he might not be able to come back. Pretty sobering, but ok. He and Fragile do the forehead touch (which I know helps but it’s so cute, I can’t) and she tells him to picture Amelie’s beach and feel the connection to her. Fragile does the same “I know you love her” thing as the first time and Sam gets sent over to the beach. Fragile looked very sad, chiral allergy tears aside. Which, given that she probably considered him a friend by this point, fits since there’s no guarantee he’ll come back let alone be able to stop Amelie.

- Elsewhere, on Amelie’s beach things are... not looking good. There’s dead sea creatures everywhere, the water’s red, and the sun thing looks like it’s going to turn everything on the beach into smoldering ashes any second. Sam finally finds Amelie after running around for a while and she reveals she’s an EE, which he already technically knew thanks to Higgs. Amelie explains a bunch of stuff and tells Sam to make a choice: stay with her and watch the world end (no thanks) or stop her. Sam pulls the gun which does no good and upon following her, gets a prompt to hug her. He does and they both get super emotional (which is in turn making ME get emotional) and then Amelie shoves him away.

- Sam plummets into the ocean and somehow gets bounced back to his own beach. Where he’s blue? For some reason. I don’t think it’s a tint because everything else on the beach looked the same colors it always was in prior sequences. He’s the only thing that’s not. Which, there is a reason for I’m sure. Anyways.

- Cue running along the beach for eternity a good while with Sam stopping every so often to sit down and catch his breath as well as reflect on what Amelie told him. Which was a lot. She explained that she and Bridget are one and the same, a separation of Ka and Ha that managed to coexist. She also says she got bored of waiting for the end and decided to bring about the extinction early and, while I can understand that’s her purpose as an EE, way to say fuck humanity I guess.

- In between more running and resting, it’s revealed that Sam is the BB Cliff (aka Mr. Combat Veteran) was looking for. His son. (Which you find out kinda after fighting him for the third? time.) Sam was apparently an experiement and a potential sacrifice (man this game gets dark fast) for something. Die-Hardman- aka John- told Cliff as much in less words and instructed him to take his son and run. Cliff does and bad things ensue when he gets cornered. John/Die-Hardman was given the order to shoot Cliff and when he refused to Bridget/Amelie made him, quite literally, by grabbing his hand and making him pull the trigger. My thought process during these has bacially centered around “wow Bridget is awful” but add the swearing of your choice to that sentence. Basically, I do not feel charitable towards Ms. Extinction Entity.

- Cliff took BB Sam out of the pod at some point and when Bridget shot him via using John/Die-Hardman as a puppet, she also shot BB Sam. Upon realizing this, she freaks out. Which is understandable given that she just killed a man and a baby. But what did she think was going to happen? That Cliff would throw his teeny baby son across the room when she pulled the trigger? What exactly was her expectation here?

- So BB Sam died and went to the beach. Or was it his own beach? They all start to blur together a little after a while. Amelie finds the BB, which is blue because it’s not breathing (ooh hey maybe that’s why adult Sam is blue? ... but my understanding is when Fragile jumped him to Amelie’s beach, all of him went— not just his soul. So maybe not? Is it symbolic? Am I just looking too hard into this?) and does infant cpr (I think?) and lo and behold, BB Sam is brought back to life! She tells him she knows the way home and puts him in the ocean. & in upsetting the balance of life and death, she made him a repatriate

- Once again back on the beach, Sam decides he’s had enough of being stuck there and remembers the gun and Amelie’s words that “a gun won’t help you here but it still has a role to play” and decides to use it as a way to end the beach cycle. There’s a click and then the title “Death Stranding”. I was very confused at first and just kind of stared at the tv like “that’s it? All that for—“ and then a little button prompt showed up on the bottom with the words “reconnect with the living”. Push the button and oh look, Sam’s still alive (Which is very much a joyous moment for me as a concerned player)! He tries again a few times and realizes it doesn’t work, then hears a very familiar song. Following the sound he finds little BB handprints in the sand and following those leads him to some familiar voices.

- Amelie/Bridget shows up again, this time in white as opposed to her signature red (i know there’s symbolism in that change, maybe rebirth? or just signifying that she’s trying to be on humanity’s side of things this time around?) and tells him that he still has ties to the living and then points at the five figures floating in the sky⏤ presumably meant to represent Deadman, Mama, Lockne, Heartman, and Lou. Or is it Deadman, Mama/Lockne, Heartman, Lou, and Die-Hardman? Following that, various voices belonging to those mentioned above remark that they can see him and just need to bring him back. Sam winds up in the ocean again (i’m finishing up this post almost a week after beating the game so my memory is tad iffy on the exact way things happened) and is greeted with the sight of Deadman holding Lou in her little pod while he’s got his hand around Sam’s ankle.

- They manage to bring him back to the land of the living and what follows is a fair amount of cutscenes. In the absence of Bridget/Amelie/Samantha ‘America’ Strand (the woman who never existed), Die-Hardman takes up the mantle of president (good for him!). He reveals his face to the crowd (and presumably everyone watching from... wherever they may be) and starts talking about the unsung hero none of this would’ve been possible without... which is about the time Sam, who’s been hanging out in the very back of the room (mood), decides to bail (also a mood). He slows a little when Die-Hardman says the hero doesn’t need to be named, they all know who it is and they’re all for grateful for their efforts. He keeps walking and exits into the hall and wow, BRIDGES buildings are a lot bigger than you’d think from looking at the outside which is large in general but inside is... a lot.

- Deadman catches up with him and drops some information about Die-Hardman aka John. Which I think Sam already knew due to the sequence while trapped on the beach but oh well. Sam continues down the hall and tries to pass Die-Hardman who appeared from somewhere? I’m going to guess parts of the facility loop or there was a change in scenery and I just wasn’t paying enough attention. He confesses information about his past, including how he got his name, and kinda has an emotional breakdown which made me very sad for him and increased the number of times i cried while playing this game. Sam gives Die-Hardman/John back his gun and repeats Amelie/Bridget’s words and leaves.

- Sam goes to leave the building and runs into Deadman again who hands over Lou’s pod and... Lou’s dead. Which was very depressing and the knowledge of which hurt. A lot. Deadman tells him to take Lou to the incinerator and takes Sam’s cuffs offline while giving some useful information: his location is undetectable by BRIDGES while his cuffs are offline and they will automatically reconnect to the network when he uses the incinerator. Sam nods, gives Deadman a hug and tells him “thanks for everything”. Which is more than a thank you, it’s a good-bye and kojima has now broken my heart into five billion pieces. Sam departs, gets out the big door, and... oh hey, Fragile!

- They chat briefly, during which she reveals that she’s carrying on her father’s legacy and that Fragile Express now has a private contract with BRIDGES and they’re the first independent company to have it. Good for them! She comments on Lou (I think) and remarks that he at least shouldn’t need an umbrella. Then asks him if he’d work for her. Sam says no and explains how he felt when he first began his journey and reveals he still feels that way (and now i’m even more sad! let’s take the five billion pieces that are my heart and just shove them in blender at this point, why not!). Fragile is upset and I think she tried to stop him again but he left anyways.

- Thus begins the trek to the incinerator with BB’s Theme playing on the way there (it’s a wonder i could even see the tv at this point as the ending just keeps hammering the sad nail home). Finally made it to the incinerator taking the same path I did on the first visit (thanks Igor for the tools!) and Sam enters the building, takes off his cuffs and sets both those and Lou’s pod down on the incinerator before he remembers Deadman’s words. He snatches Lou’s pod back just in time and the slab descends into the floor, the doors seal shut, and turn his cuffs into ashes. It’s revealed that Sam took Lou out of the pod and not much has changed. He tries infant cpr and hearing his words the entire time literally had me sobbing. Sam says “come on baby’ and he’s crying (i’m crying and now the blended pieces of my heart are being run over by a steam-roller) until he finally gives up... and then... Lou lives! There are a bunch of baby BT’s floating nearby in the incinerator which is a little concerning, but hey Lou’s alive! Sam cradles little Lou to his chest and she’s so tiny⏤ her little skull is barely the size of his palm! Anyways, Sam and Lou walk outside and it starts to rain... but the sun is shining, the rain causes no harm to him or Lou (or Sam’s clothing) and a rainbow appears. The first normal rainbow in the entire game. Which is a good sign, I think? The title screen appears once more and woo! I beat the game!

This was a very unique and fun game, and I can honestly say I enjoyed every minute of it. Between the music, the environment, the characters, and all the lore you can uncover by reading Sam’s mail... it was an amazing experience. I still have some trophies I’m missing and I think I only need 10 more to platinum the game so I’ll be playing chapter 15 for a little while longer. Plus I want to rebuild all the roads + find all the memory chips. I do want to replay the game in it’s entirety sometime just to see what i pick up on ahead of time the second go-around. And, while I may have beat the game, this is going to be another one of my forever fandoms. I don’t have much contributed right now, but I hope to have more things posted soon now that I know the whole story. if anyone ever wants to chat about the game, fic, or anything, feel free to send me a message!

#ds adventures #death stranding spoilers #siren yells into the void #death stranding

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cagestark · 5 years ago

Note

Could you please write about Tony being jealous after Peter spends too much time sciencing with Bruce?

Sorry if you didn’t want so much angst. Hope this is okay

Read here on AO3.

Warnings: alcoholism. Unhealthy behaviors all around. But it does have a hopeful ending I think. 5.7k

Peter is elbow deep in his paper on NASA’s Fermi Gamma-ray Space Telescope when he gets that tingle, like a finger being dragged up his spine. It sets all his hairs to standing, heart pounding. He is not alone. Keeping perfectly still, he holds his breath to better listen and scans what little of the kitchen he can see without moving his head. But the breaths—so quiet, he can barely hear them—are coming from behind him. The person is still, seated, unthreatening.

He relaxes, twisting on the stool at the island. “Hey, Nat. I didn’t hear you come in.”

She is the picture of poise, perched in the armchair across the room. Peter still isn’t quite used to seeing her like this. In private, she is very different from the woman he first met on the tarmac in Germany with the chic hair and tight, dark outfit. Not relaxed, per se, but maybe as relaxed as the assassin can be, dressed in loungewear, face clear of makeup, her growing hair plaited back. It must be a huge sign of trust for her to show this side of herself, but Peter has been told that he always looks for the best in people.

“Peter,” she greets coolly. Her legs cross, slowly, the dragging of nylon loud. He thinks she might be trying to seduce him. The Avengers already know that he is gay, but maybe old habits die hard. His internal character assessment almost causes him to miss what she says next: “Are you aware of what you’re doing?”

Peter blinks. He points at the paper scrawled with notes. “Actually. Not really. I’m working on this paper for my Physics class, see. But we’ve been discussing gamma-rays and there is something about electromagnetic—”

“I mean with Bruce and Tony,” Natalie says.

His face puckers into a comical expression of confusion, glancing around the kitchen like the two scientists might actually be there without him knowing. “Uh—nothing?”

She looks unimpressed. “You’ve been spending every day with Bruce in his lab or up on the roof.”

Does she think that something is like, going on with Peter and Dr. Banner?

“We’re looking for signs of gamma radiation in thunderclouds. There was a big study last month that found gamma-rays preface some lightning strikes—” Natasha’s flat, unmoved stare stops him before his rambling monologue can truly begin. He swallows, throat dry, feeling some sort of dread in his gut, though he doesn’t know why.

Why is she being so cold to him, right now? It’s reminiscent of the stress dreams he used to have after Tony first offered him the position with the Avengers, dreams where he moved into the tower only for everyone to ostracize him and ignore him, dreams where Tony and Steve would sit down with him and say, Sorry Pete, it isn’t working out, you don’t mesh well with us, and may we please have back your suit?

“What is it?” Peter asks, trying to be brave. “Have I—did I do something?”

Natasha sighs, lifting herself from the armchair gingerly like she is twice or thrice her real age. She crosses the room and he has to force himself not to move away. The tingle is back, and this time, that primal spider-instinct inside him feels threatened, like he is bug beneath an incoming shoe. A large black stiletto maybe, with the Black Widow insignia on the bottom like a target for where his tiny body ideally will be smushed.

But he overrides the instinct and swallows down the fear: this is Natasha. She wouldn’t hurt him.

She does box him in, though, coming into his space and bracketing him with her arms, palms flat on the marble countertop behind him. “Tony doesn’t like me, much, Peter. Surely even you have noticed that. I once broke his confidence in me, and now I work very hard to make that up to him. You could say that a part of my reparations involves looking out for him.”

“That’s really nice of you,” Peter says, polite but firm. “I like to look out for Mr. Stark too. Excuse me—could you give me some space?”

After another moment, she pulls away. “You’re too smart to play dumb. Stop hurting Tony.”

Then she is snatching an apple out of the fruit bowl and strolling out of the room, not even leaving the scent of perfume behind. Peter feels baffled enough by the conversation to wonder if maybe the entire thing hadn’t been a hallucination. There’s no feasible way that Peter could be hurting Mr. Stark—he’s barely seen the man all week, since Peter has been so busy being tutored Bruce for his physics class.

Still, it takes him a long ten minutes for his senses to stop feeling like he’s in danger, and by then, he has completely lost his train of thought for outlining his paper. Sighing, he closes the book.

“It’s just going over my head,” Peter admits. It’s the weekend, when any other college student would be out on the town. Not many college students have the option of hanging out with the Avengers though, so. You know. Peter isn’t totally lame. At this time on a Saturday evening, most of the core Avengers are occupying their floor in the Tower. Peter has his own room there, with sheets that are royal blue and soft as silk and a picture on the wall of Tony presenting him with his Stark Industries internship certificate. “Every other aspect of physics is cake to me. Chocolate cake, even.”

“That’s his favorite,” Clint supplies helpfully. He’s playing cards with Nat and Tony at the other end of the island. Natalie is the best bluffer, but Tony can count cards in his sleep, so the odds are pretty evenly stacked, he’d say.

“Yes, it’s my favorite—! But as soon as gamma-rays come in, it’s like my brain shorts out. I failed the quiz over these, and it’s throwing off my curve. If I don’t ace the paper, I’ll freak out.”

“Cheer up, kid,” Tony says. There is an amber glass at his elbow, even though it was whispered very quietly around the tower a few months ago that Mr. Stark was working on getting sober. Peter guesses that it isn’t going well. Now that he looks closely, the man doesn’t look well at all: thinner, grayer, sadder. His dress-shirt collar is rumpled. That’s so not Mr. Stark. His voice is a warm vibrato that Peter feels in his bones: “Take a break. We’ll deal you in. No one is good at everything.”

“What are you bad at?” Natasha asks, maybe flattering him, maybe teasing.

The smile Tony gives her shows too much teeth to be friendly, eyes hidden behind his tinted glasses that he is wearing more often than not these days. “I’m bad at plenty of things, Miss Rushman.”

“He’s right, Peter,” Bruce says. They’re at the other end of the island, both of their shoulders aching from hunching over Peter’s textbooks for the last hour and change. “This is pretty advanced stuff. Difficult enough for scientists who are in this field to grasp. You said that this isn’t the focus of your major? Then I wouldn’t stress over it.”

Peter is stressing though. MIT has been tougher than he thought it would be, and he still worries that his success in high school was just him being a big fish in a small pond. Suddenly the pond is bigger: a fucking ocean. He feels like algae on the waves, tossed to and fro compared to some of his classmates.

Glancing up, he catches Natasha’s eyes. She is watching him, face blank, but he can’t help but feel that there is a silent message in her eyes. Seeing her unfriendly disposition makes him remember the conversation they had the day before—the one where she threatened him, in vague terms. Against his will, his eyes flicker to Tony. The drink beside his chips is empty now. His elbow is propped on the table and his chin rests in it, one shaking thumb running over the edge of his cards. He looks lost in thought. Sad thought.

“Maybe you’re right,” Peter says slowly. He closes his book. “Go ahead and deal me in, Mr. Stark.”

And that makes Tony sit back in his seat in surprise, glasses slipping down his nose to show pleased though bloodshot eyes. He grins—not one of those shark-grins he gave Natasha, but a real one. A smile. It makes butterflies spread their wings in Peter’s gut. God, he’s had a crush on the man for, like, ever. But Mr. Stark is a crush so unobtainable that Peter’s never even had to stress over it. Never had to stress about the juvenile stuff like does he like me back or what can I do to make him notice me. He’s just able to melt in it, enjoy his attraction and idol-worship. It’s all very sexually frustrating and uncomplicated.

Tony pulls back the stool at his side and pats it invitingly. When Peter sits down, he can just barely smell the bourbon on the older man’s breath. Tony then asks: “Bruce, do you want in on this, too?”

There is a difference in the way the billionaire asked Bruce to play when compared to when he asked Peter, but Peter can’t put his finger on what it is. Something about the tone, the inflection... Under the countertop, Tony’s hand comes to rest on Peter’s knee for a moment, squeezing warmly. But then it doesn’t move, just rests there, burning a hole through Peter’s jeans. It prickles, but this is a different kind of danger, he thinks. He’s so busy trying to remember how to accomplish basic human functions like breathing and swallowing that he completely misses Bruce’s response—a kind no thanks. Then Tony’s thumb is moving, brushing the outside of Peter’s leg in a few slow, firm strokes, and Peter feels a dangerous stirring in his pants. The hand starts to slide up his leg—

Then the hand is gone. His blood is still rushing south, propelled by his hammering heart, but it’s like all his senses beside touch come rushing back the moment Tony removes his hand—Clint is dealing, cards whispering over marble as he passes them out, Natasha and Tony are bickering though Peter doesn’t yet have the brainpower to decipher what about. His knee is still burning hot, and it tingles for the rest of the night.

But he doesn’t think it’s his imagination that the entire evening is lighter, smiles and laughter flowing more freely, and when Mr. Stark gets up to get a drink, he comes back with water.

From then on, Peter’s image of Mr. Stark begins to change. Mostly thanks to the patchwork of knowledge Natasha feeds him in passing moments—when they encounter each other in the hall going different directions, when she is running on the treadmill beside him in the gym, when she passes behind him at the kitchen island for another apple, or, like today, an orange.

“He only drinks when he’s sad,” she says in his ear.

Peter starts to look for that as an indicator to Mr. Stark’s mood: times when it’s late at night and he walks in on Mr. Stark standing alone by the window looking at the view of the city, shaking hand clutching a drink that rattles when he sets it down to avoid Peter seeing it. Nights when Tony passes through the living area, glancing at the group gathered around (almost always Clint and Nat watching television, and Peter and Bruce talking through Peter’s homework), rejecting their offer for him to join with a quiet, just passing through, before grabbing a bottle from the kitchen and disappearing into the elevator. If Tony drinks when he’s sad, then he is often sad.

Peter thinks it’s safe to assume that when Tony isn’t drinking, he’s happy—or at least neutral. And taking into account the poker tournament from a few weeks before, Peter begins to notice that he himself seems to make Tony happy.

The knowledge weighs down his shoulders…but mostly, it makes him feel full of helium, light and bouncy, liable to lift off the ground and break through the atmosphere should he not hold on to the world around him. Peter makes Tony happy. For some reason.

“Everything he does is for other people,” she pants, trying to keep up with his enhanced abilities in the workout room. Peter himself is sweating from the break-neck pace he’s adopted on the treadmill, but he doesn’t need to focus to run, so instead his mind is far away.

Natasha is absolutely right. The topic is a sore spot. Peter knows that there were cutting words exchanged between Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers at the beginning of their relationship when the super soldier accused him of selfishness. It’s obvious how little they knew each other then, because even now he sees the fondness Steve has in his eyes for Tony, the gratefulness he exudes and goes out of his way to express to the billionaire. Tony funds the entire Avengers Initiative. He lets them live expense free in his home, feeds them, clothes them, patches them up. Scraping by with his Aunt for most of his life in a tiny apartment in Queens has made Peter keenly aware of all the things he has in his life now, solely thanks to Mr. Stark. And the older man doesn’t bat an eye at it.

And alright, Tony is a billionaire. Those expenses probably don’t scrape the surface of his wealth. Yet there are many other ways his altruism is expressed, ways only Tony Stark could express them. When Peter’s suit was malfunctioning in the wetter-than-usual New York springtime, Tony didn’t sleep for three days while working on it. Got to make sure you’re safe, kid, he’d muttered. Wouldn’t get a bit of sleep otherwise. Tony hadn’t even delivered it in person so that Peter could thank him, just left it neatly for him outside his bedroom door.

There were other things, of course. Providing Bruce his own lab and the resources to expand his research. Once he sat for a portrait at Steve’s insistence, and it was the stillest he’s ever seen the billionaire be. Mr. Stark makes it his personal responsibility to enrich the lives of those around him—he even seems to enjoy it—

“Did you hear me, Peter?” Natasha asks.

Peter stops the treadmill, jogging while it slowly decreases the pace. He’s been a thousand miles away, or several stories away, rather, down in the lab with Tony. “Sorry, I didn’t.”

“I said—what does he have for himself? What does he want for himself?”

Then she is gone, ponytail bouncing as she disappears towards the showers, a towel over her shoulder. Tony has everything. He has an inordinate amount of money at his disposal. What he could possibly want for?

The questions haunt Peter for the rest of the night, even as he spends the evening in Bruce’s lab while the man reads over his paper on the Fermi Telescope. Peter is anxiously squeezing a stress ball—carefully, though, because last time he truly squeezed one, it crumbled in his hand—when Tony appears in the doorway. He’s dressed in what Peter knows to be his lab-attire: comfortable, cheap t-shirt, jeans that are wearing through at the knees. The man’s hair is un-styled, free from gel, and it looks so soft—

“Hey, Pete,” Tony says. “Bruce.”

Bruce doesn’t even greet him, still reading Peter’s paper. He does lift a hand though.

“I brought the LVC permits for you, fresh off the government’s press.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Bruce says absently.

“What are you doing up here, Pete?” Tony asks, putting the papers on a nearby lab table. There’s something in the older man’s voice—something. But Peter’s never been good at stuff like that: deciphering looks, or tones, or subtextual clues. On instinct, he scans the man’s face, trying to determine his mood. It doesn’t look promising, the circles dark beneath his eyes, the frown lines deep. Even when he smiles, it looks tired and sad.

“Just having Bruce look over my paper, Mr. Stark.”

“When are you ever going to call me Tony, kid?”

Peter laughs a little. “Never, probably,” he jokes.

Tony doesn’t look like he thought the joke was funny. He gives a half-hearted wave goodbye and then disappears. Peter is at the perfect angle to watch him through the glass door. He stops outside the elevator and hits the button, leans his head forward to press his forehead to the doors, the picture of dejection. There is an uncomfortable knot growing in Peter’s stomach.

What could the man who has everything possibly want?

Bruce glances up ten minutes later after flipping to the last page, glasses a little askew. “Was that Tony I heard?”

The days afterwards, Natasha seems more disgusted with him than usual. Her occasional comments about Mr. Stark have stopped, and Peter laments the loss of help, because he feels no closer to understanding what she wants from him or what’s wrong with Mr. Stark.

Peter spends his nights laying in bed, restless, staring up at the ceiling to avoid listening to the distant movements of the Avengers around him in their own respective rooms—he didn’t need to know so much about Steve and Bucky’s after-hour activities, thanks very much—pouring over his interactions with Natasha.

What do you think you’re doing with Bruce and Tony? she had asked. And what was Peter doing? He’d been spending much more time with Bruce lately trying to grasp gamma-rays. Usually his time was spent equally divided between patrolling, school, homework, and spending time down in the lab with Tony. Of those things to take the backburner, it had been his time spent with his idol-cum-crush. Was the man feeling neglected?

Peter rolls out of bed. He’s tempted to put on his suit and go into stealth-mode, but instead, he tiptoes out of his room in his pajama bottoms and t-shirt, using all of his enhanced senses to make sure he doesn’t encounter any other Avenger on his way to Natasha’s room. When she opens the door, she looks like he’s the last person she ever wanted to see on the other side.

“It’s late,” she says. Peter slips through the crack between her and the door anyway, but he figures if she truly wanted to keep him out, she might have tried. You know. At all.

Her rooms are as large as Peter’s, tastefully decorated. He notes that the only personal decorations in the room involve the Avengers: the group photograph taken of them and a few drawings of Steve’s, framed carefully.

“I’ve been thinking about all of the things you said, and I still don’t get it. I don’t know what’s going on—I see that there’s something wrong but I don’t know why and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Natasha sighs, already opening the door to usher him back out. “Everyone needs everything spelled out for them. It’s late, and I’m tired. Tony likes you. You like Tony. Quit choosing Bruce over him, or I’ll have to spend the next few weeks finding an incredible foreign benefactor willing to sponsor Bruce’s work only if he relocates overseas. That takes a lot of work Peter. A lot of work. Now get out, and fix this mess.”

He doesn’t even hear the real door shut in his face, because he’s too stunned by the metaphorical door that has been shut in his face. He gapes at the hardwood, eyes unseeing, all of his senses growing dim as he focuses his brainpower on the words that just spilled out of Natasha’s mouth.

Tony likes you. You like Tony. Quit choosing Bruce.

Peter lays awake the entire night. He can’t spot Natasha’s angle, can’t determine why she’d want to lie to him that way. Surely she has some sort of motive that Peter can’t see—he’s not a super-secret-spy type. Espionage and subtext aren’t his forte. She could probably run cryptic circles around him, and Tony once jokingly said that Natasha wouldn’t even sneeze unless she wanted someone to say bless you. So what is this? What is she doing to him? Hoping to embarrass him? Maybe she thinks that he’ll make some grand gesture, some romantic monologue to Tony and he’ll be so crushed at the subsequent rejection that he’ll leave the tower and stop Avenging altogether.

When sunlight is coming through the tinted windows of his room, he has not slept a wink, and has the throbbing headache to show it. His paper is due by 11:59 PM, and he still has a few revisions he needs to make. The other quizzes on gamma-rays and other electromagnetic radiations weren’t much better than the first, and all of his hopes for maintaining his perfect grade point average are riding on this one paper.

He dresses, only able to find mismatched socks, and takes the subway to make it to class on time. He’s there until early afternoon, and by the time he arrives back in the Tower, his stomach is growling painfully and he’s emotionally at the end of his rope. Why hadn’t he taken a gap year before starting school like Ned had? Maybe a year older, Peter would be more capable of handling all that is on his plate. As it is, he feels like a waiter balancing one-too-many glasses of water. Failure seems imminent.

As soon as he is in the tower, he cracks open his laptop and begins to finish the revisions Bruce advised him on—but then the word count is just under what the professor asked for, and now Peter is scrambling for extra content. His senses alert him that someone is coming, but he knows the length of the steps to be Tony.

“Hey Pete,” Tony mutters, looking like he just woke even though it is nearly three in the afternoon.

“Hey Mr. Stark,” says Peter. “How are you?”

“Has this coffee been here long?” Tony asks, pointing to the half-full pot. His hand is shaking.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. I just got here.” Peter frowns to himself, fingers hovering over the keyboard even his brain feels like a train stuck on the same track. He has to say something to Mr. Stark. Has to. “Hey—um. I wanted to say. While you’re here—”

His mouth dries up as Tony turns to give him his full attention. The man is always so courteous, stopping whatever he’s doing to listen to what Peter has to say. It’d be impossible not to notice that the man has a problem with interrupting, talking over other people. But it’s never been that way with Peter. He stops. He listens with a kind of single-minded intensity that makes the younger man flushed. That much focus and attention feels like a laser beam directed at him, about to dissolve him into goo.

“—I wanted to say. That I hope we can hang out again soon.”

Tony leans back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. For a guy in his 40’s, he’s still fucking fit, biceps thick and strong, core toned. “I hope so too, kid. I’ve—missed you.”

Peter melts, heart aching in equal parts joy and sadness. “Maybe tonight? If you’re free. I could come down to the lab.”

Tony feigns like he’s thinking it over, knuckles rasping against his chin. “What about your—” he waves a vague hand at the laptop on the countertop. “I don’t want to come between you and school, Pete. I’m not very good at being a responsible role-model, but even I know that your education is important. That should be your focus.”

“Don’t worry about it. How does seven sound? I’ll finish this up, get it turned it, and then I’m all yours. I mean—we can—you know. Hang.”

The older man has that look he always gets when Peter’s mouth runs away from the rest of his consciousness: equal parts amusement and endearment and exasperated fondness. “Sounds good. You know where to find me.”

Peter does know. He does. The knowledge weighs on him for the next four hours that he spends staring at his laptop, writing a sentence just to destroy it, flipping frantically through the notes that Bruce gave him. Not meeting the word count means that he will automatically lose 10% of his grade, no matter how good the paper might be. But it’s like his brain is drawing a blank, all cylinders firing emptily.

By the time he is done, it ten PM. The hours ate him up like quicksand. His head aches with exhaustion, eyes burning from staring at the glow of the laptop, but he rushes into the elevator, eyes filling with tears. Surely Tony will understand why Peter is late. But it still makes him feel like shit.

“To the lab please, FRIDAY.”

The elevator moves without any verbal confirmation from the AI. By the time the doors open, he realizes he’s made a mistake. The lab is dark and quiet, lacking the usual soundtrack of classic rock hits. When he grasps the handle, it doesn’t turn. He’s too late. Mr. Stark was probably so angry that he went straight upstairs to the penthouse. If Peter were to follow, the door would probably be locked against him, refusing him entrance—

The door beneath him opens, automatic lock clicking open. Peter nearly falls through as it swings inward, his enhanced senses being his only saving grave. The lab is even more eerie from the inside, because it is all right and all wrong mixed together. The smell is comforting. The darkness is unsettling. He knows this place like the back of his hand when it is lit, but suddenly it is an entirely foreign place as he wanders through, carefully feeling his way, unsure why he hasn’t turned around and left yet.

Lights come up, blue dots like holographic breadcrumbs on the floor. FRIDAY. Where is she leading him, and why?

The lights circle on lab table, and when he comes close his eyes have adjusted enough to the darkness to see why. Mr. Stark is there, slumped over the lab table. Peter would say that he is asleep except for the stench of alcohol and the empty bottles beside him, faceless in the dark. Sad sentinels watching over their king.

“Oh Tony,” he says. His heart feels too heavy for his ribs to hold. He puts a hand on the man’s shoulder, gently trying to rouse him. It doesn’t work. Even when he whispers the man’s name in increasingly louder increments, the man doesn’t stir. Throat closed up tight in the fist of fear, he gently presses two fingers to just under the man’s jaw—

Tony jerks away from the lab table, striking out at Peter. His aim is off, so his knuckles barely glance against the younger man’s chest. The force of the failed punch tips over the chair and Tony nearly falls to the floor—would, if Peter weren’t there to catch him. Still he struggles against a foe he doesn’t recognize.

“Getaway—”

“Mr. Stark—it’s me, Peter.”

Mr. Stark blinks, eyes moonish in the dark. He squints. “Pete?” he asks, voice thick.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m so sorry that I’m late.” He guides the man back to the chair and searches for one of his own, finds a stool with wheels and rolls it over so they can sit side by side. Tony is swaying dangerously even just sitting.

“’s okay, Pete,” Tony says. “You were with Bruce.”

“What?” Peter cries. “No, I wasn’t. I was working on my paper, remember? Just like I told you in the kitchen? Why would I be with Bruce when I had—” he just barely catches himself before the words a date slip past his lips, “—when I had plans with you?”

The laugh the older man gives is mirthless, slumped over the table. With every shaking breath comes a cloud of acrid liquor. Peter has never understood how Tony could drink that stuff, alcohol with so much burn and no sweetness or sourness. “Why wouldn’ you be with Bruce, kid? I get it.”

“I don’t know what there is to get,” Peter says gently. He knows from his minimal experience with drunk people that drunkenness heightens emotion, and they can be as likely to lash out in anger as they are to burst into tears. Without his suit, Mr. Stark probably couldn’t hurt Peter even sober, but he doesn’t want the man to hurt himself.

“No, no, Bruce ‘s a great guy. He’s a great man. Better man th’n me.”

Peter gapes, even if Mr. Stark isn’t even looking or couldn’t even see him through the darkness. Because, what? Seriously? “Mr. Stark, you’re like the greatest man I know. I don’t—I don’t know anybody who I, I admire or look up to the way that I do you.” That answer is maybe a little too honest, but he can’t help it. This vulnerability, this sheer pain coming from the man who has held Peter’s heart between his palms since he was just a little boy. It’s a terrible thing to witness, and he’d do anything to change it.

“You’re a good kid,” says Tony. He reaches with a hand like he wants to pat Peter on the head but loses strength far before then.

“I’m not a kid anymore, Mr. Stark.”

Tony laughs again in that terrible depreciating way. He rests his forehead in his palm, staring down at the lab table. “Trust me, Pete. I know.”

“Why have you been so upset lately?” Peter asks smally. “I’ve been worried.”

“Didn’t mean to worry you, honey.” The name makes Peter glow, even if its slurred in that terrible, sad voice. “I guess ’ve been—going through some stuff.”

“Like what?”

The exhale he gives is long and loud in the quiet lab. “Adult stuff.”

“What, like, erectile dysfunction?”

The sound Tony makes is indignant. “No you little shit.” It’s said with unbearable tenderness and fondness though, until it almost feels like a caress instead of an insult. “Just, you know, your general everyday average feelings of inadequacy and unbearable loneliness.”

“You’re too hard on yourself Mr. Stark. I mean what I said. You’re the greatest man I know and I—I like you a whole lot. I know you’re having a tough time. But I’m here for you. And I know that you don’t think I’m strong enough, but you can lean on me. I can take it.”

When Tony stirs, lifting his head from his hands long enough to glance at Peter, his cheeks are wet, tracks of tears that just barely catch the light. He could almost mistake it as his mind playing tricks on him, but the man’s shoulders begin to tremble like his hands when he hasn’t had a drink, and Peter gets off of the stool so quickly that it goes rolling in the other direction.

Peter wraps his arms around Tony, pulling his head to his chest like a mother might hold a baby to her breast. There are no sounds, no sobs or whimpers, but the shaking lasts forever it seems. Then all at once the man melts, soft and languid. When he pulls away a hairsbreadth, Peter’s shirt is wet where his face was pressed.

He turns his head and leans in again, this time resting his temple on Peter’s abs. The younger man barely resists carding his fingers through Tony’s hair—just lets one hand gently rub at his back instead. When he speaks Peter can feel the movement on his stomach. “You’re too good f’r me, Pete. I’m so sorry I’m like this. Hated seeing you spend so much time with Bruce ‘cause I’m just a jealous old pervert. A fucking drunk, just like Howard—”

“Don’t say that.”

“’s true, kid.”

Peter swallows, struggling to gather courage. But if he can’t ask questions of Tony now when the man is drunk and possibly unlikely to remember them, when the man is too relaxed to lie, then when can he? “Why—why are you a pervert?”

All the breath seems to go out of Tony in a hot rush of air that Peter can feel through his shirt. “C’mon kid. You have to know.”

It does all make sense then: Tony’s recent behavior, Natasha’s cryptic comments.

What does he want for himself, she had asked.

Carefully—so, so, so carefully—Peter lets his hand drift up the back of Tony’s neck and slide into his hair, dark waves that are soft and free of product. It feels like silk under his fingertips, so fucking intimate. If this is all he gets of Tony, then he’s going to savor it, sear it into his memory. Blunt nails scratch gently at the man’s scalp and he purrs. He groans, the vibrations sinking through cotton and skin and muscle deep into Peter’s bones. “God, Pete,” he says. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” Peter gasps. He’s hard, 0 to 60 in the blink of an eye, heart hammering, struggling to draw in breaths. “I won’t, Tony.”

“Never stop,” Tony groans softly. “You are the most important thing in my life, kid.”

And then the man is asleep, snoring breaths into Peter’s abs. It takes a while, listening to the gentle breathing, for Peter to calm down. “FRIDAY,” he croaks. “Unmute.”

“Thank you, Peter,” she says. “May I turn the lights on? I’m afraid boss might need some assistance getting to his room tonight. Would you be of service?”

“Yes. To all counts, FRIDAY. Thanks.”

“You are welcome.” A pause. “And thank you, Peter.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he mutters, hoisting the heavier man up. There’s no use putting just an arm over his shoulder—Tony is out cold. Instead, Peter scoops him up, grateful for his enhanced strength, and begins the trek to the elevator.

In the morning when Tony wakes, Peter will be there waiting. With some water and aspirin.

Because they need to talk.

#starker #tw: alcoholism #tw: alcohol

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unchartedterritoria · 5 years ago

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Dangerous (Sam Drake x OC) - Chapter 28

*NEW CHAPTER*

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 * Chapter 2 * Chapter 3 * Chapter 4 * Chapter 5* Chapter 6 * Chapter 7 * Chapter 8 * Chapter 9 * Chapter 10 * Chapter 11 * Chapter 12 * Chapter 13 * Chapter 14 * Chapter 15 * Chapter 16 * Chapter 17 * Chapter 18 * Chapter 19 * Chapter 20 * Chapter 21 * Chapter 22 * Chapter 23* Chapter 24 * Chapter 25 * Chapter 26 * Chapter 27

As always, you can read the story thus far on A03 HERE

Tags: @jodiereedus22, @shambhalala, @missdictatorme

Reviews and comments are always appreciated!

You are a Mudd after all.

The words fell like cement bricks and with each word, crushing and taking the life out of anything she had ever known about herself. Her only solace, the unwavering loyalty to her mother that expanded well beyond Susan Spencer's death. Surely her mother would have told her if she was related to a person mixed up with one of the most famous assassinations in history. Being the adult she was, Faith responded to the suspicious accusation with a solid opening argument.

“Am not!”

"I may be many things Miss Spencer, but I assure you a liar is not one of them," Jasper informed her, his hands clasped together solemnly in front of him.

Faith shook her head.

“Not possible.”

Jasper circled her chair, bending down to grab the item on the floor behind Faith. Once in front of her, he held it in front of her face.

"I'm sure by now, you're familiar with this little piece of history here."

The Bible she had found in her mother's hope chest. The dull gold lettering still carried enough luster to glint in the late afternoon sun. Faith stared at it her jaw set tight. That little book that had led up to now, to everything that had come to pass in the last 38 days. She couldn't decide if she coveted it or despised it.

She turned her cold glare to Jasper.

“I'll take that as a yes then,” He said, cradling the book in his lame hand while he flipped through the aged pages with the other.

"Did you know Miss Spencer that Bibles served as a family ledger? Marriages, births, deaths, all recorded right here," Jasper patted the open pages gently. Without waiting for her reply, he flipped casually to the back cover. Faith drew in a nervous breath as Jasper produced a small penknife from the pocket of his pants. With the delicateness of a heart surgeon, he ran the sharp edge along the seam. The substance holding the page against the back gave way, emitting that crackling sound only old glue can make, revealing the true last page of the Bible.

“Now my dear, what was your father's name?” Jasper asked.

No, I'm done. I'm not playing this game, Faith thought stubbornly. She hated when anyone brought up her father. It made her body feel like hot, heavy, angry steel ready to singe anyone that broached the topic with her. So the last person on this earth she was going to let bring her to that level was her captor.

Jasper rounded Faith and slammed his hand around her forearm, gripping it tightly to the arm of the chair. Holding the penknife, he brought the point to the soft hollow under her arm atop her elbow. Faith felt the zing down her arm as the knife tip hit the tendon lying beneath her skin.

“His name dear,” He asked again, his face close enough to her ear that he need only speak in that soft southern drawl barely above a whisper.

Faith muttered under her breath.

Jasper slid the penknife into her skin, not with a quick jab of a person only looking to get a response but with a slow, deliberate push, he meant not only inflict pain but to relish in the pleasure Faith's scream gave him.

She bit down on her bottom lip to stop herself.

“His name?” He asked, his voice taking on a breezy, lithe tone.

"Everett. Everett Spencer," She acquiesced. Her eyes screwed shut to stop the tears brought on by the searing pain in her arm.

"Everett!" Jasper said with a flourish, snapping the little blade closed and turning his attention back to the book.

"You see my dear, not only do we have a list of genealogy here but also a line of ownership. Did you know that you were the only firstborn girl in the Mudd family in almost 150 years?"

Jasper held the Bible's last page open for Faith to see.

The men back then had such pretty penmanship, she thought. The list of names started in such an elegant script, the names leaving the swelling dots and faded trail of ink that only a fountain pen could produce. The line of names progressed as the sophistication of the signatures declined. The last two names made her stomach churn. Her mother did always say her father had the handwriting of a kindergartener.

Samuel Alexander Mudd

Thomas Samuel Mudd

Spencer Thomas Mudd

Alexander Spencer

Everett Alexander Spencer

Faith Evelyn Spencer

"Do you see the pattern? The firstborns received their father's name as their middle name, to honor the family lineage no doubt," Jasper spoke with the certainty of knowledge that Faith wished she had.

"Then your grandfather, after years of having generations of his family the target of persecution, casually dropped the notorious last name. From himself on, they were simply Spencers. As you can see, though, the tradition did continue. I'm sure having a girl did throw a wrench into the works, but Evelyn is a very fine replacement for Everett." Nox clicked his heel against the other one as his pacing drew to a stop quickly in front of her. "Am I being clear enough, Miss Spencer? I know timelines and names can be difficult to follow," Jasper concluded, talking as a person would to a slow child.

Faith balled her fists, her thumbnail cutting into the skin of her fingers.

“I got it,” She said flatly, her far away stare fixed on the sand that dusted the concrete floor.

"So, as I have said, just tell me where I can find the Booth diary and the confession, and I will be on my way."

“I can't tell you what I don't know,” Faith spat at him. Jasper pursed his lips and pinched the bridge of his thin nose.

"My dear, you are tryin' my patience," He said with his eyes shut. He produced a monogrammed linen handkerchief for the pocket of his white jacket. Lavender initials stitched into delicate the fabric that hung heavily with dampness and emitting a strange, fruity aroma.

"My father's been dead over ten fucking years, how could he tell me where it was?" She yelled, her frustration reaching its peak while Jasper wiped the head of his cane, the smell coming from it growing more pungent.

Jumping the cane up in his hand, he grasped the shaft and swung it across Faith's face. The eagle top slammed into her cheek, the beak tearing her skin as her head snapped to the side. The jagged cut welled up immediately with blood.

Faith began to tremble as she hung her head. Tears of pain bloomed in the corner of her eyes and threatened to flow.

Jasper plucked at the front of his pants before hunkering down in front of Faith.

"Now what did I say about language?" He said mildly, tipping up Faith's chin with the head of his cane to make sure that her eyes could meet his. Her tear-streaked cheeks served as a suitable answer for Nox.

"Whether you love them or hate them, my dear, family is important and back then all a man had at the end of the day was his good name to hang his hat on. And once that good name is thoroughly sullied, it could take years, decades to bring it back into the good graces of society. Repentance be damned," Jasper spat angrily, turning on his heel towards the ocean, his fury clamped lips disappearing under his red mustache.

Only family can make someone that angry, Faith recognized. Her brown eyes crinkled with realization, “You're an Atzerodt.”

Jasper turned to face her. "While some families had to live with the dirt that stained the pages of their legacy, some just removed the pages entirely. Gave themselves a new last name," He continued with contempt but without acknowledgment of her statement. "It may have taken over a century, but my family name will be cleared, I will not have a Mudd get in the way yet again. Now please, I implore you," he said as he wiped the head of his cane again, "tell me where it is."

"I don't know. I wish I did! I would tell you. I don't know. Sam doesn't know. We don't know!" Faith pleaded.

“We? We? Has this become a permanent partnership?” Jasper gasped, his eyes green and alight with a renewed excitement and sounding very much to Faith's ears like that of a teenage girl at a slumber party.

“None of your fu-freakin' business,” She said, catching herself.

Thwack.

“I said freaking!”

"Too close, Miss Spencer and I will take that as a yes." He said, putting his cane back by his side. I must know," Jasper continued, bringing his face close to hers, "Are you in love with Mr. Drake?"

Faith remained silent while the blood dripped steadily from her nose.

Jasper Nox began to howl with laughter, the randomness of it making Faith start in her chair.

"Now this is just too rich, too rich for words!" He said delighted, his hands clenched to his chest. "And I thought Mrs. Lincoln to be a forgiving woman. You take the cake on this subject, my dear."

Faith's eyes darted quickly towards Jasper, giving away her position of confusion, even if just for a moment, before staring back at the growing ocean waves.

Jasper's gaze softened as he knelt in front of her. With his good hand, he took her chin between his fingers.

“You have no idea who he is, do you?” He said softly.

#sam drake fanfiction #uncharted fanfiction #sam drake x oc #OC X Sam Drake #samuel drake x oc #dangerous #My writing

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troymatthewjackson · 5 years ago

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poems

These are words written with love and care for the queer community. They will not be relatable to everyone, and they are not intended to be.

with love,

Matt

God is a Queer

y'all Jesus freaks

sure now how to make a fag feel special.

comin' here to tell me how I failed my Mama

yet, y'all don't even know a damn near thing

about her fuckin' drama,

or a half of that Saint's trauma!

how her mama hit her with wooden sticks,

all while tellin' her that Freddie, Elton,

and Prince be suckin' dicks,

saying, little girl, you be in this world, not of it.

but, Mama knew better than Lucille,

she knew that otherness was real.

that saint raised me,

and taught me to be true to my kin,

and, little did Mama know,

my Kin(s) would live in a state of sin.

now, here I sit while y'all haters be tellin' me,

that I better repent

for the kingdom of god is near to me.

well hear me, hear me,

my body don't want nothin' to do with thee.

y'all can kiss my ass and my ass's hole,

with your bad theology and your comfortable god

sittin' up high on his imaginary throne.

I will damn well do with my body what I please,

I will eat ass, kiss ass, make love to an ass,

and show my ass,

because this here too, it shall pass!

yes, yes, you heard what I said.

for saint Julian has prophesied to me,

“all shall be well," says she.

not here, not yet, but eschatologically.

So, Imma be just fine, don't you worry about me.

my Mama, my Kin, my ass and I,

we gon' be mighty nice on the Kindom come day.

heavens, I might even cum five times

on that God-blessed day;

while listenin' to the boulevard is not that bad,

as Jesus shows up as a drag queen in L.A.

O' glorious, glorious day,

when the Kindom of God is drawn near,

and it turns out that God is a queer.

California

God said to expel the sexual deviants in "First Californians." All those fuckin' faggots live in San whatever, California.

I think that I first thought, really thought, God was real that night I watched the sun sink into an ocean from a cliff in Baja California.

My first real kiss was at a queer bar in some Gayborhood, the type you can only find in southern California.

He is a lovely boy raised by two lands. The border is the highway that separates his two homes, Baja and California.

I believe that if I had stayed there my life might make sense, if it were only the boy and I, and Baja, and California.

Maybe one day, I will go back and find myself where I left them, my joy, my hope, my lover, my hurt in California.

"Cover up Matt's eyes, I don't want him seein' two men-" holding hands, kissing, touching-because they can in California.

When Were You Happiest in Your Body?

I forgot to tell you how much I like it when you move your tongue from the bottom of my spine to the top of my neck. Every muscle of my body quivering as you lick. I feel comfortable in your body, like how you feel comfortable in my body. I think I am starting to feel happy in my body. The boy before you asked why I had such a pretty face but a flat ass. I first shared my body with you just to know what it would feel like, to give my body to someone who shared my love for Pad Thai. You tell me that you like how my belly is soft, Like when you kiss it as I try to hide it. So, I lie and tell you that I am happy to be thick skinned. But still, the truth is that I like me better on the inside, this body has been hard earned, so that is why, I let myself have an extra glass of wine with the fancy cheese. By the way, Let's eat a piece of chocolate layer cake for breakfast.

What the fuck is a man?

Lately, I've been busy finding myself. Finding the pieces that I had thrown away. Thrown away because I was told not to act like a girl. Because to act like a girl was to not act like a man. Well then tell me, what the fuck is a man? What is it that makes a man, a man? What is his essence? Is it the way he walks and talks?

Someone said to me, "act like a man." And, for twenty-some years, I tried, and I tried to do just that, act like a man. But, I realize that I never once said I wanted to be a man. So, tell me again, what it is that makes a man, a man? And, what did I ever do to make y'all assume that I wanted to be a man? Was it the clothes that I put on? Or, maybe the songs that I liked to play? Or, was it the way that I prayed? Dammit, I pray. I pray for a day, when man is not man.

Genesis 3:1-6 Erasure

Now the was craftier than God. woman

The woman said, "We may eat of the fruit in the garden But God said,

“You shall not eat of the tree, nor shall you touch it, or you shall die."

But said the woman,

"You will not die; for when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."

the woman saw that the tree was good,

and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise,

she took of its fruit and ate.

Genesis 1:2 Response Poem:

Oh, queer, formless void, what was the beginning like? Was it without God?

Romans 1:18-27 Erasure

God is revealed in ungodliness for God has revealed it to them.

For though they knew God,

they became wise. and exchanged God For their bodies and worshipped the creature the desires of their hearts

their bodies with one another created things blessed forever!

Their women also the men

were consumed with passion for one another.

they are full of fidelity and love.

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thetruthlsoutthere · 5 years ago

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DW Dreams Post {2}

Read on (:

Dreams {1} 12/7/2016 to 12/8/2016|| Dreams {2} 12/8/2016 to 12/9/2016 // The day before yesterday, its like i was in this grass path with wood tress on either side like a freaking royal garden or some shit and the 10th and the 11th doctor were there and for some reason i was backing up from the 10th like i was afraid of him o something lmao and i hid behind his 6th Doctor regeneration self as he tried to sonic me and he looked hurt or something that i hid behind one of his other selves from him and his 11th self was watching shocked. I think someone else was there. Then its like me and River are in the Tardis, sitting down at one of the steps and she is telling me, "I am intimidated by you sometimes" and i am saying something like "Oh River Song... aka.. Melody Pond" so maybe i am liking telling her she doesn't need to be and asking why she is. THEN So I had a dream about the Master last night and it was his john simm form with the black hoodie bottoms and jeans with the red shirt underneath but anyway, its like he was in the backyard of my house by where our bonfire is and anyway, he was moving the stuff around it and its like then I am walking with Fred and George Weasley from Harry Potter and its like the Master was maybe walking with someone, the Doctor maybe? out of the woods up from the bonfire and he kept looking at me from the woods to the bonfire before and at the bonfire part before, i was walking out the back door and i was looking for someone, curving my body as i put a hand to my mouth to laugh and its like he was watching me stealthily move around the back part of my house to the side and BRUH, before or after that, there was this part where its like i was wearing this Christmas green really pretty dress and a red one as well and he told me HE WANTED TO TAKE ME RIGHT UP Against the wall or something AND THEN ITS LIKE I AM CRYING AT THE END OF THE DREAM AFTER HE CONTACTS ME THROUGH THIS ANCIENT BOOK AND LIKE WHY AM I CRYING?? LMAO ________________________________________________________________

Dream from 10/31/2016 to 11/1/2016 // Its like I was in this dark basement or something but there was this area of three rooms. I enter the first one and I get this really bad feeling like someone is there and watching me. Then I see this second room. I don't know if I am with anyone but I think I was alone. There were three rooms bc I stated it in the dream to 2 other people of what had happened to me and I will explain in that. Now the second room, the feeling gets even worse, I start to shake and try to gain control and everything but whoever is there that I cannot see is trying to take control over me. Its hits full force when I open the third room. I am hearing a scary dark voice, my whole body is shaking and other things. I must have thought it was the Devil because I end up screaming, "No, I am with God. You can go to Hell.". I have trouble trying to close the door because they wont leave me be. I finally manage to close it then I start running away. It is later on when I am in a different room, none of those three, that I explain these events to two other people. I like to think it was Amy and Rory but maybe it wasn't. All I know was that it was a male and a female.

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Dream from 10/31/2016 to 11/1/2016 // Its like Amy and Rory were running through this area of grassy woods and some kind of grey alien creature almost looking like the Absorbaloff but more creepier and deadlier so maybe a different alien creature then its like I am there and so is the Eleventh Doctor, were trying to escape from it. Somehow, I end up farther back from this area in the grassy woods where there is like a plankl to walk on from im on then in front of me and the deadly creature thing sees I am on my own and starts to make its way towards me and the Eleventh Doctor see's this, jumps into the creature's view and ends up walking down that plank thingy whatever in front of me. And in the midst of all this, him getting the creature's attention because maybe that means he didn't want me to get hurt, and I say, "Doctor stop, don't be an idiot.", because he could get hurt too and I obviously didn't want that either. Then it's like the Doctor is close to me, the creature in the background, Amy and Rory are safe maybe still to the side, out the creature's view. Then it's like this woman appears. She looks old like maybe in her 50's. She has long wavy blonde hair, light eyes, warm complexion and she was wearing old clothes rich in dark purplish red and I think she held something in her hands. Is she the one having power over this creature or whatever? Then it's like were in this dark area and there are these group of human men who are staring at us and I am sitting down and one of the men is talking about how they tried to take the creature down and they have not had luck and either {think they know more or don't at all.} I end up being my sassy cute self or whatever and say something like, "We actually do know more..... {something else said} but good effort buddy.", then I get up so. After that, there is an area of restroom stalls but ,like without the toilers, lmao so just a set of doors and the Doctor, me and other people we must know, so maybe not Amy and Rory but other timelords/time ladies and its like we are all regenerating or something. I look either still like myself or Nina Dobrev because I had that feeling. The Eleventh Doctor still looks like himself, I think. Me and him get close almost like were going to kiss but then we run off together. Then it is like there is a scene where I am talking to the Rani or someone. Why do I feel like its the Rani , lmao bc in a previous dream of me and her; it was like we are friends so is this part of this dream before or after that one like dreams in order or not. ANYWAY, whoever the woman is, if it is the Rani, she is talking to me annoyed or something about how the Doctor is crazy about me {She stated that but maybe different words.} and how she has tried to get him to stop or whatever but she failed at it. Then it's like I am walking away from her where the Doctor is, presumably with the others. For some reason, I have a vision that the Master {John Simm form} is stabbing me. It doesn't actually happen , lmao because I had a weird dream previous of the Master {Delgado form} where it was mentioned that he held affection. Check That dream journal entry. Now, I don't know where we were or what was happening in the dream at this part but maybe that dream part ends. I think I may have woken up after this.

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Dream: Night of 9/24/2016 to Morning of 9/25/2016 // I had a dream last night to this morning that involved me The Protector along with The Master and The Rani and there were definitely other people. It seemed like to me that The Rani and I myself the Protector were friendish with each other, idk. For some reason in the dream, I imagined myself kissing the Master but it didn't actually happen then Me and The Rani are to the side and she is asking me "Why did you take your ring off?" and I am supposing she means the one to me and the Doctor. I didn't reply back to her but right now I am like My answer is I don't know?.. ask dream me? What ring?? {The elena gilbert daylight ring which showed up in my Doctor Who dreams as my ring, that one?} There was also an action fighting sequence with others. The Rani that showed up in my dream was Classic Who Rani . The Master was John Simm Master I think.. I as The Protector, my gallifrey title name, kept being mentioned.

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Dream I had: Night of 8/21/2016 to Morning of 8/22/2016 // I was in this house and it had at least 3 stories long in height and I was looking out in the oceanic background. In the backyard, there was woods and in the narrow hill in front of it with grass leading up to the woods, I could see the Tardis although it didn't, it had parts missing to it like the door handles and the push writing sign on it was in a different place. Currently aside from that, the waves from the ocean were crashing really violent and big so I was taking a risk as I went outside to get closer to the Tardis but when I do, it goes from really tall to really small like just a little bit taller than me and I am touching it much smaller than it should be. I think there was a woman there saying something about it or I was just by myself thinking.

Short I know but there you go, that was another dream I had.

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Dream I had #3: Night of 8/21/2016 to Morning of 8/22/2016 // I was in this pure white area of rooms and in the main one, I was there with the Third regeneration of the Doctor, a man and a woman who may have been his companions at the time. I think it was Sara Jane? and a man who I got a Jack Harkness vibe , wearing a dark blue coat , those light denim jeans and boots; but it could have been someone else. The Master was also there in the regeneration look he had back then and I was talking with the third doctor. We were in danger trying to escape from the Master and we went through this portal and the Master found out what we were trying to do and he was trying to make the portal close. The Doctor and Sara managed to get through and as it was stopping to let the man companion through, I pushed him in so he could go through, letting myself get stuck as long as they were safe. So I was stuck with the Master and me and him were talking. He was threatening to kill me and I was pushing and challenging him to do it. He then opened this one room and there was a white cot table thing and Rose was there and she looked so emotionally dead. The Master was taunting me about her being there and I was crying because clearly I love and care about Rose. It got to a point where I am across the room outside of the one Rose is in and The Master was in there with her, I feel like he may have closed the door but then I am closed my eyes and ears as hard as I can when I hear the Master hurt and beat Rose so bad to the point I am hearing her cries and begs and screams for him to please stop and her cries of pain and I am doing the same, constantly saying please stop and all that and I am screaming because I am trying not to think of this and wanting it to stop. The next part of this dream , it's like it has stopped and I am seeing Rose wrapped up in a grey jacket on the other side of the room, sitting over a blanket, emotionally dead more than before and I look to see a tuib of water bloody red signaling that the Master hurt her so bad that she bled. I am crying and affected by this and Rose just gives me a dead look. I remember when I was screaming for it to stop, I was hoping Rose and the Master would hear me so either the Master stopped because he felt like it or he stopped becauseh e heard me, I don't know. But as I am doing this or before, I am aside from where I was outside the room and to my left, the Master and someone I would think to be Sara Jane or some other dark haired woman saying to him that he would never really hurt me because if some other person had done it, that person would be ripped to pieces or hurt or something along those lines. Does this mean that.... The Master cares about me or?.. likes/loves? I don't know, this shocked me. Anyway, at some point after seeing Rose again like that, I come to the side of this other room where that same woman and the Master are by each other and they look over at me as I walk to them. I eye glance across them without really looking at them and what seems to be one of those step ladders {from my work in real life} is by them and I hold my hand around one of the handles and with tears in my eyes, I am saying, "Just let her go, please, that is all I ask. Please let her remember none of this that she suffered through." Now while all of this was going on, I figured the Doctor and Sara Jane and the other man would have noticed I didn't make it through the portal and they reacted however they did but this is all I remember from this dream. I was able to tell all of it because as soon as I woke up, I immediately wanted to write it down so I did not forget. For anything else apart of this dream, I don't remember so I think this dream was all of it. At some point in this dream, I feel like I mentioned me being the Protector to the Third Doctor with Sara and the Master was there I think at this point and then I had the Doctor's hand in mine and we were smiling at each other.

{The Protector for my Gallfreyan title like The Doctor's and The Master's.}

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Dream: Night of 8/16/2016 to morning of 8/17/2016 It was like I was in this school and it came to a point where I was stealing food out of this fridge of some sort and I look to my right and Christina Inks was there, who I had not thought of out my dreams in a long time but here she is, and she is laughing in amusement ,watching me as if I shouldn't be doing this and yet I am and she isn't stopping me. Then it's like were talking for a bit about how she has to go somewhere so were parting ways and now it is like I am outside the school and I see Christina or what looks to be here, in a car on the road, driving away with others cars and I feel it weird to me because I thought I saw her on something different before, something different that wasn't a car but at this point, I am outside the school and away from it and it's like I am with Amy and Rory and were talking about something I don't remember and were walking. What happens next is one of them is either on the phone or then someone else is by us, I think another female and then I ask them, "You know of the Doctor? Well about.. the Protector." Now outside this dream, I had already had previous dreams, a lot, of Doctor Who and Torchwood ones so these people already know me, but once I mention the Protector, it's like Amy and Rory know of it and by the way I ask and the look in my eyes, it's me telling them that it's me and they look at me strangely as they realize and then I am cupping Amy's face and resting my forehead against her's with my hand in her over her hair and face and I am saying, "Oh Amelia {or Amy} Pond, Couldn't you see that this whole time, I was right in front of you." I said something like that and when I pulled back from her, it's like me, her and Rory are walking into the Tardis after smiling and laughing together and having me back this way after remembering this part about me {This whole time they knew me, friends of the companions and love of the Doctor, did they all have their mind wiped except me, of what I was and what I am is a time lady from Gallifrey? OH SHIT!} {P.S. I think out of all the companions, based on my dreams, I am closest with Amy/Amelia Pond. I seem to get along great with other companions, but Amelia, it's like I am closest.} But anyway, Me and Amy and Rory are going back into the Tardis and the Doctor {In his 11th regeneration} is there, he is by the Tardis doors from the inside and he is looking at all of us and by how Amy and or Rory tell him about this, the Doctor basically does the same thing with the strange look but then he smiles as he remembers and then that beautiful smile of his , oh my lord, is on his face and then the Tardis doors close and it's like around the Tardis console, I can see the controls up close to know what each one is and does Not like up close with my face pressed right up against it but more like just looking at it and itself is up close. And as Amy and Rory either stand there, me and the Doctor are using the controls to get the Tardis going and it does, you know the Tardis noise and it will disappear how it does, but anyway, on the last control, one of my hands and the Doctor's hands touch it at the same time, we look at each other with a loving smile then we both use it at the same time and then.... with that part, the dream ends.

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this takes place after the previous dreams listed:

Dreams at some point this year or last year:: // basically in one dream part, there were these whole montage of life scenes that happened and im my Protector self and my husband theta aka the doctor was there and its like for the rest of the dream, it showed us growing old together. And I feel like at some point in from the dreams I had last night to this morning and wanting to jot this down EVEN THOUGH I SHOULD HAVE EARLIER , I feel like at one point, there was a dream involving my alliana self and Klaus and a Lucifer like dream from the show but of me and Lucifer. ok byeee.

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Dreams from 8/3/17 to 8/4/17 // I just want to really write these dreams down so I don't forget them, lol. Ok so anyway, it's like I am on this street or whatever and I am walking into this store, walking around it, checking stuff out and there is other people around and it's like I see barack Obama there and then me and him get to talking and he hugs me and I mention to him about how I tried to talk to him once and he ignored me. I remember him replying about it but I don't remember what he said bc im a dumbass. But I know it was him speaking of a reason why he didn't or him thinking he hadn't. Then it's like I am in this dark room and there is two people standing not far in front of me and two other people to the other side. For some reason, for the people not far in front, I feel like one was male and the other was female and the ones to the side were the Master in his John Simm form and the other people, I don't know who the person was but I feel like he was male too. It's like The Master is talking telling the people in front of me to stop talking or something, like he wants them to stop whatever they are doing because I can see his face turned towards them then he turns to me and his face is close to mine and were talking and its like his lips brush up against mine.

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2 dreams in the past few days 7/2/17 and 7/3/17 // the first one which involved the earlier days of the 1st or 2nd , it was like I was running out the back door of my house and it was pouring rain and I kept yelling "Doctor!" and running around. Perhaps, I was sad or in danger and I needed him. Point is, I kept running and yelling Doctor, hoping to find him but then its like in the wooded trees around my house, I see Bill and she tells me to follow her and such and so we do, going through the woods and its like the rain had stopped and I kept asking where Nardole was but she wasn't answering so I stopped asking and then its like were going into this haunted place and there is something we have to solve so maybe there is an alienistic danger and its only me and Bill, The Doctor and Nardole are not in sight and were handling t but then we leave and I am talking to Bill about her and the other companions based on how much time they have spent with the Doctor, can handle things theirself and due to me being the Protector, I can perfectly handle it myself but that we need Theta for this and at this point Bill looking understanding, was looking horrified as well. For some reason , I think Clara was here at this point but remember all I saw was Bill for through out this dream and then its like I am back in my house inside my bathroom but perhaps it is longer or wider inside my dream because the Doctor is there, in his 12th regeneration and me and him are talking and at some point he tells me how it stuns him or something along those lines and I ask him what and he tells me about my beautiful smile of mine. Also at some point earlier in the dreams but not one of the first, its like I am dangerously yet gracefully dancing and the Master, in his John Simm form, is watching by the hallway wall and I get close to him with my hands/arms are on either side of his face and he watches me in shock and I have a serious look on my face. Then the one most recent is like a mix of me interacting with these cute guys and there being arrogant ones and me dealing with them and then its like I am in this familiar city and I feel like I am being watched by the Doctor and then its like me and these people are climbing this huge green beanstalk like tree to the foggy sky but its dangerous and there is supposed to be something strange up above and some where around this point , its like I am in a city and its over flooding with water like that 2012 movie and I am holding this child and this girl is aside me and were trying to swim to safety and at this point, its like I am in this dark house and the walls are a dark blue and I am at this part of the house near the side where the door goes into this closet except the door itself isn't there and its like I am talking to someone and I say the words, "Maybe because I love my husband? My Theta.", and its at this point where myself I see myself as Crystal Reed so perhaps that is the regeneration that I am in and the Doctor is there in his 10th regeneration form and I am crying and he is wiping the tears on my face and the Master is there with his hand on my shoulder. Also in this dream parts during these later listed days, the Master is in his John Simm form too.

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stay tuned for part 3 (:

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holy-kpop-hoe · 6 years ago

Text

Between Sea Foam || Part 2

Disclaimer: Welcome to something I like to call “Bangtan Tales”. Between Sea Foam is based on “The Little Mermaid” by Hans Christian Andersen and the Disney version with the same name.

Pairing: Park Jimin x Mermaid!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Word Count: 2219

Warnings: none

Synopsis: You escape your prison and are now in a world you barely know, getting chased by people that will hurt you. You are happy for the storm that brought you to him.

(Big thanks to my girl @supersailorrapmon for being my beta for this chapter and my favorite girl @kpopcinnamonswirlroll for always being my beta and supporting me through this mess <3 Also a big thanks to @btssavedmylifeblr for saving me from the procrastination demon with her advice and kind words. Means a lot <3)

Prologue - Pt1 - Pt2 -

The rushing of a pair of shoes can be heard passing through the white and sterile hallways of the underground laboratory. The young man is slightly sweating, his thick-rimmed glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. He stops in front of a large door, puts his glasses in place and cleans his sweaty palms on his dark jeans. He lightly brushes his knuckles on the wood, a voice firmly responding on the other side. He goes in. "I'm sorry for the long wait, Dr. Young I-" "Did you find them?"

A tall woman in her mid-thirties stands by the thick glass windows that show the bottom of the aquarium outside. Big and small water specimens swim carelessly in the big manmade habitat, all living in harmony. She's dressed impeccably in a black pencil skirt and purple blouse, her dark skin covered in shades of blue and green due to the water on the other side of the glass. Her manicured hand is against the window, almost as if petting the big octopus that is glued to it on the other side. The woman turns with a frown at the lack of an answer. "So, did the Flotts find them or not?" "Ursula, the situation is..." he sighs. "...complicated." She turns away from the glass windows and walks in his direction. "Keep the names for the bedroom, Namjoon. You know better than this." she stops mere centimeters away, one of her hands lightly touching his chest. "Now, tell me - Where are they?"

Namjoon gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down at the motion. Her brown eyes are piercing his own, and he knows it's better to just tell her than try to get around the matter. "They tried to stop Mark Tuan and the subject, but the van they escaped in crashed into the ocean." Her eyes wide and he continues. "Mark's dead and they couldn't find the girl's body." Dr. Young turns her back to the man, taking a deep breath. A headache was starting to form and she rubbed her temples, trying to collect her thoughts. "Well, that's a shame. That boy was a wonderful professional. Such a pity that he couldn't split his work from his feelings." she walks to her desk and takes a seat, crossing her legs. "Tell the Flott's to track that mermaid down. Preferably alive." "Ursula, plea-" "Dr. Kim, I think we're done here." her stern look makes him impossible to talk back. "You can go back to your work." Namjoon looks at the face of the woman he loves but doesn't comprehend. He knows better than to stress her more than she already is. "Yes, Dr. Young." And he leaves. -------------- The first thing you notice is the smells. They hit you in a wave that makes you take a deep breath. You recognize the strong scents of human male and another one that belongs to an unknown animal. You're lying on something soft and comfortable. You freeze. Whispered voices make their way to your sensitive ears and you don't dare to move a muscle. Maybe they will go away if you just stay still. "Hey hey, I think she moved!" exclaims a deep voice. The whispers stop and you hold your breath, fearing the worst. "Are you sure?" sounds another male voice. "She seems pretty dead to me." A smacking sound and a protest make you flinch. Are they fighting each other now? "Shut up, brat." "Fine." he hesitated. "Are we leaving her just sit here like this, though? All wet, tits out, fishtail on our couch? Shouldn't we - I don't know - cover her up or something?" You now know that three men surround you. A pain in your shoulder makes you shudder, and you hiss only to stiffen when you notice what you've done. The silence now would be deafening, if it wasn't for the loud breathing of what you suppose is the animal you can't identify yet. You slowly open one of your eyes, quickly closing it when you see four shadows right in front of you. "Hey." his voice is soft, calm. "We're not going to hurt you, I promise. You're safe here.” You keep your eyes closed, but relax a bit. You stay there in silence for a few minutes, thinking of what decisions to make. You don't know these men, and your experience with humans, in general, is not something you want to go through again. They might hurt you, or worse. But you also don't have many choices. You'll have to face them either way. So you open your eyes. Three men and something big and furry are looking at you. You don't move, and neither do they. One of the men, the shorter one, gets closer to you, hands up to show you he means no harm. He's quite attractive, with his black hair and full lips. You wait for his next move, your tail flexing in case you need to use it. He doesn't get any closer though. "Hey, how are you feeling?" he waits for an answer that never comes. "We found you passed out in the middle of the storm, so I brought you to our boat. You're safe here." You keep looking. "Jimin...I don't think she wants to talk." said the brunette, tall one. He is beautiful, and you lose yourself in his fine features. You look at the other man or, should you say, boy. He doesn't look older than you. This one is pretty too, with shaggy raven hair, big eyes and thin lips. You notice the tired look on his face and signs of stress. You wonder if he's sick. "Maybe she doesn't speak human." murmurs the younger boy. "Do fish - mermaids or whatever - know human talk?" You huff and glare at him, offended. You're no fish! They notice your reaction and the one who spoke to you first, Jimin, giggles a light laugh. "She may not speak, but she definitely understands us." he looks at you. “Excuse him, Jungkook doesn’t know how to talk to a lady.” You relax a bit more, almost certain they weren't a threat. The tall one gets close to you, hand stretched out, offering you a blanket. "To cover yourself." he says, a faint blush on his cheeks. “I’m Taehyung, by the way.” You accept it, holding it against your naked chest. Suddenly, the big ball of fur next to them comes to life and approaches you, sniffing. You stare at it, not quite sure what to do. Jimin quickly grabs the animal, afraid it might do something to scare you. "This is Max, the one to see you first. He's a good dog." You smile at the animal you now know is a dog. You had seen dogs in videos that Mark showed you, but they looked nothing like this one. You extend your hand to pet him as you've seen people do, and Max happily accepts your hand, rushing forward to lick your face. You giggle and continue to pet him. The men are still looking at you, curiosity in their eyes. "I noticed you got a bruise there." says Jimin. "Can I see it?" You look at your shoulder, where a big scratch opened your skin enough to draw blood. The area surrounding it is red and hot to the touch. You give him a nod in affirmation and he gets a little closer to you, eyes focused on your wound. “It doesn't look that bad, and I don't think you'll need stitches.” his fingers lightly graze the skin around it. “But it definitely needs to be cleaned.” You shiver at the skin contact, looking at his face. People don't usually treat you kindly, besides some exceptions, but these men were taking care of you. A part of you was still fearing for their intentions, but there was nothing in them that made you alert. Jimin is concentrated on his current task, cleaning and disinfecting the cut. Taehyung and Jungkook watch from the side, not quite sure what to do. “Ok, it's all fixed.” says Jimin. “You should be ok now.” and stands, giving you space. You notice how the younger has his gaze focused on your tail, a slightly freaked out expression on his face. His gaze caught your eyes and he quickly looks at the ground, ears turning red. The other one looks at you in a mix of fascination and curiosity. “How is this possible…” you hear him whisper. “What happened to you?” he asks, this time aloud and directly at you. You close your eyes and sigh, memories coming back to you in full force, now that you try to remember what happened. Your memories are still foggy, but you can clearly remember that Mark was shot, lost control of the van and crashed. You remember the feeling of falling and the sensation of the freezing waters when you fell into the ocean. After that, it was only darkness. And now you are here, in a stranger's boat. You sigh and look at Taehyung, your eyes starting to tear. “Oh, right… you don't speak.” he looks around and grabs something from a near table. “Do you know how to write?” and shows you a notebook. You nod fervently, stretching your hands in his direction. They had taught you how to write at the lab. The man gives you the notebook and a pen and you open it on a blank page. You immediately start writing everything down. Your name, where you were locked up before and how you got there. Your final words: Help me. You hand him the book, and the three of them get together to read what you wrote, eyes widen at your words. “Oh man, holy shit, this is for real!” “Are you sure they'll be looking for you?” asks Jimin. “Maybe they'll think you died in the crash.” You shake your head no. You know she will never stop looking. -------------- Jimin is back on deck, looking at the after storm sky. They, fortunately, got to the marina not long after rescuing Y/N. The storm wasn't as bad as it looked and he was glad for that. Stars shine in the clean dark blue sky, the marina quiet at that hour of the night. He couldn't stop thinking about what happened. "It feels unreal, right?" says a voice from behind. Jimin turns around to give a faint smile at Taehyung that stops next to him. He had given his room to the mermaid, preferring to sleep on the couch, and the exhausted girl fell asleep not long after hitting the pillow. Jungkook had run to his room as soon as the excitement of the newcomer died off, leaving Taehyung and Jimin alone to reflect on the recent events. "It feels like a dream." Jimin laughs, fingers brushing his hair. "I have a fucking mermaid sleeping in my bed!" "We gotta watch our backs." laughs Taehyung. "Now is mermaids, next thing we know we have the Kraken trying to sink us." Jimin looks at the brunette with wide eyes, proceeding to punch his arm. "Yah, don't say that!" he laughs. "My grandpa would haunt us for the rest of our lives." "What are we going to do about all this though?" "Well, we have to protect her, of course." says Jimin. "I know a guy that can help us." "You know a guy?" Taehyung laughs. "A mermaid specialist or something?" "Well... you know Min Yoongi?" "Crazy Min! Are you serious?" he scoffs. "The guy is batshit crazy!" "Yeah, but I think he can help us. I'm going to ask around for him tomorrow." "Well, good luck on that." Both men spend the next minutes sitting on the boat limits, just looking at the night sky and enjoying the silence and the smell of sea water. Jimin decides to break the quiet. "I didn't forget our talk, so don't get too comfortable." Taehyung lowers his head and stands up. "I think I'm going to bed." "Hey hey hey, not so fast!" Jimin grabs him by the elbow, making the other man stop and gaze at him with an annoyed look on his face. "C'mon Taehyung, just cut the shit." "Jimin, I said it before, it's none of your business." he tries to pull his arm from Jimin's grasp, but he doesn't let go. "I swear to God I will punch you, let me go!" "So tell me." he lets go. "Please, Tae." Taehyung closes his eyes and grunts in frustration. "Look, I don't know either ok?! One time we were good and the next time I see him he hates my guts." They lock eyes. "Happy?" "Not really." Jimin shrugs his shoulders. "There's something you're not telling me." "You're insufferable, you know that?" he's serious, with a shadow of a smile on his lips. "One of my best qualities, if I say so myself." says Jimin with a smirk. Taehyung turns his back and walks inside the sailboat. "Goodnight, asshole." "Yeah, you know you love me." his expression turns serious. "But Tae, for real, I'm not letting this go until you either tell me what's going on, or you fixed it. I want my friends back." Taehyung stops but doesn't turn. "Curiosity killed the cat." he sighs. "Goodnight, Jimin."

#bangtanarmynet #bts jimin #park jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin scenarios #bts scenarios #bts taehyung #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #Between Sea Foam #my writing

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