#but the pages I saw were filled with nothing but mean comments and boring descriptions

[swifttosaturn]

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[subwaysurf45]

Winter Makes Ice (Ep.7)

Summary:  you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title

Words: 3412

Episode: seven

Warning: PTSD, vomiting

Masterlist! Winter Makes Ice Episode: Six

Time: 8:01am 

Date: October 7th 2024

Were you running late?

 Yes.

Your final appointment with Bruce was today and it was scheduled for 8:00 in the morning, you had set your alarm with enough time to get there but Bucky had other plans. While you were getting up Bucky snaked his metal arm around you, he knew you couldn’t break out of it, he pulled you back in his chest so you could stay for a little longer but you managed to bribe him after giving a few kisses down his neck. As you sucked his hand relaxed and when he didn’t see it coming and you snuck out to your bathroom to get ready for the day, you knew he was too tired to get up and pull you back. 

The surgery for both your nose and removing the serum went without a hitch, though you did have a panic attack a day later because it seemed too good to be true for you, everything else went fine. Bruce managed to take samples of your skin and make them into cartilage for your nose, it took a couple days for it to marry and accept your face, it would turn really red and then lose all colour in a matter of minutes. The serum removal took longer than expected, and it turns out what Bruce’s lab was creating wasn’t what he was expecting. The antibiotic would actually get into your bloodstream and split the serum from the red blood cells, but it wouldn’t remove them, the serum would still circulate in your body but just next to the red blood cells. 

A heart-lung by-pass machine was used while you were sedated, you could have been awake but seeing your blood fill a tube and then go back into you while a bag filled with blue liquid was just extra trauma you didn’t want to see. There were always complications with being sedated, but Bucky supported you no matter what. You weren’t left feeling sick after but like you hadn’t slept in days, you found there was a difference between waking up from passing out like you did in the cell and just lack of sleep, Bucky had looked at you quizzically when you said it randomly, but you couldn’t seem to explain. 

You still get headaches from time to time, it normally comes from that same spot in the back of your head and high on your neck, you’d feel around for a scab or scar but would find nothing. There was a bump when you’d checked recently but it seemed as though it was a goose egg form getting hit, but that was so long ago. You didn’t talk about your bump much because you thought people would look at you crazy, some people already did; while others looked at you like you were a ghost. 

As you walked to Banner's lab an agent stopped talking to her friend to look you up and down, and hand came to cover her mouth but you saw the smirk in her eyes. You just shrugged and turned into the lab. 

“You’re late,” Bruce said, he was sat on his stool with everything in hand, clipboard and pen at the ready. 

“Sorry,” you smiled and sat down. 

Bruce began to do the checks, he got good at hiding that he was taking blood, he’d point across the room to show a floating hologram of all your vitals and while you were reading over them he’d quickly stick the needle in to draw a bit of blood. 

He did the same except he pinched your thigh as he stuck in the needle point to make your attention go to your leg instead of the inside of your elbow. 

“Ow!” you slapped his hand away, “I’m used to it by now, and I also trust you and know you’re not trying to stick a foreign serum into me.'' You shook your head and read the file that was left open, “I can’t believe it’s my last test,” you sighed and leaned back in the chair. 

The whirl of the centrifuge wasn’t too loud, Bruce stood beside it with one arm holding his weight on the desk. He watched as you looked over the file again and again, your finger would trace the words and slowly find their way to the corner of the page to flip. The further you got into the file the further back you went, Bruce noticed you tend to stay on your injury report page a bit longer than the others, you’d study the little picture of a person and all the ‘X’s that were drawn where you got hurt; you could barely see the human drawing underneath. He’d watch as you read over every description of the injuries you’ve gotten, one time he asked why and you looked at him and said. 

“Because I go over how to fix each injury, so when I go back into the field I can stay on my toes.” 

But he knew you were just tired of feeling like you weren’t helping when in reality you prompted a medical breakthrough, not everyone gets infected by a mind controlling serum, but the new use of a heart-lung by-pass was being looked at by hospitals. 

Bruce took the blood out of the centrifuge and looked into the vial, there was no trace of blue like there was the first time he did it, just plasma and blood. You were still reading and he knew you’d pass his test so instead of telling you he was starting the evaluation, he just did it. 

“Close that book.” He lowered his voice which sent a boom through the lab. 

You didn’t close it but it did scare you for a second, a little jump but you went right back to reading. You weren’t trying to be mean by not listening but you had to show that you wouldn’t follow orders but rather respond like a normal human, the first day you flinched for the stool when Bruce asked you to walk it over to him but after that you tended to act like he wasn’t in the room. 

“Stand up.” he barked. 

You looked over to him, “no thanks,” you smiled, Bruce smiled back. 

“Can you stand for a second, please?” Bruce squinted and leaned back on the desk, he was challenging how you’d react to an indirect command, it was an offer rather than a command. 

“I don't know, can I?” You tilted your head to the side, a wide smile was being suppressed by a terrible poker face. 

“May you please stand?” Bruce walked over with a proud smile on his face, he was no longer challenging you. 

You just laughed and stood, “only because you asked so nicely,” you let your teeth flash while you both laughed. “Why did you choose standing? That’s like, day one stuff,” you sighed from laughing and closed the file. 

“Because I want to hug you,” he opened his arms wide, “to congratulate you. Now give me a hug, that’s an order!” he giggled but laughed even more when you pretended to scope him out, “just kidding, come ‘ere, kid.” 

You fell into a hug and wrapped your arms tightly around him, Bruce did the same. It was quick but it meant the world. “Thanks for everything, Bruce.” You smiled as you walked out of the room, “I mean it, you really helped me out.” 

“Don't mention it, you’re free!” he opened his arms wide to shew you out of his lab. 

You walked out and closed the door behind you, you only took a few steps before staring off into the distance. “I guess I am…” you muttered to yourself before continuing to walk back to your room. 

As you walked you didn’t even see Bucky in the kitchen “doll!” he called and you turned instantly, “breakfast?” he tilted the frying pan over so you could see french toast. 

Your eating and sleeping were the only things that didn’t seem to get better, nightmares plagued you every night and you could barely stomach a workout smoothie. Bucky would try his best to get you to eat but he typically ate your leftovers instead of making a meal for himself, it was hard to watch because you weren’t gaining weight and he still felt guilty when he’d touch your back and feel every ridge. 

“I’ll have a bit,” you smiled and walked over, “I’m a free bird now.” you commented as he slipped the bread on your plate. 

“Way to go, babe, I knew you could do it.” He scrunched his nose and took the stool beside you, “eat slow and as much as you want, no worries.” He kissed your temple before pulling out his phone. 

You slowly started to eat, you put the corner of the bread in your mouth and chewed slowly. The sweetness and the flavour was still overpowering, you weren’t used to this much intensity and it only made you feel nauseous. As much as Bucky acted like he wasn’t paying attention you could see his eyes look over as far as he can to gauge your reaction, when you’d catch him looking he’d just cough and look forward. You only got four bites in before turning your nose up and pushing the plate to Bucky. He didn’t want to seem disappointed but he was, not in you but rather himself, nothing was working. 

“What do you think you can eat?” He asked softly. 

“Plain yogurt?” you questioned. 

“I’ll give anything a shot,” he breathed and stood. The yogurt was far back in the fridge but he found it eventually, he poured a little bowl, “you want granola?” he asked. 

“Just yogurt,” she sheepishly replied, a thin line formed on your lips. 

He served it up and went back to eating the french toast, you scooped it up and took a spoonful. It was so plain and boring, nothing tingled on your taste buds. There was no category for it, it wasn't sweet or sour, it wasn’t savoury; it was just plain. The metallic taste from the spoon had more power than the yogurt itself. Nothing to chew, no berries or granola. 

It was perfect. 

In no time you scarfed it down, the spoon clicked on the bowl as you scraped for the ends of it. Bucky had been cooking your favourite foods to make you feel at home, you liked spice and sweetness normally. You’d turn down yogurt a month ago if it didn’t have your favourite granola in it, but what both you and Bucky didn’t realize was that you started with crazy flavours instead of the basics. Butter and bread, plain crackers, and maybe some almonds sounded great right now.  

Bucky looked over in shock to see you done with your food, he watched as you went to the pantry and pulled out some unsalted crackers. You plopped a few into your mouth and just waited to see if your body would reject it, but it didn’t.

“Guess I went too fast, too soon, huh?” he let out an unhappy laugh, “you could’ve been eating for a while…” he muttered and stood. He was exhausted, the darker circles under his eyes and the flatness of his skin didn’t go unnoticed. You woke up every night screaming and thrashing around in the bed, the sheets would be piled on the floor from your arms swinging around. As much as Bucky wanted some sleep, he knew for a fact that you’d been in disposition before, you’d been the one to gently ease him out of a nightmare for three weeks straight.   

“You did your best and I love you for it,” You smiled and leaned across the counter to kiss his lips, he sat back down again, “I would have done the same thing, if it makes you feel better.”

Bucky just rubbed his face and looked up to you, “how?” was all he asked. 

“How...what?” you giggled, but Bucky didn’t crack a smile. 

“Why are you so upbeat right now, I get it you finished your tests with Banner but, god, I don’t know how you’re so happy?” He didn’t sound angry but more in disbelief, if it were him, Bucky knew he’d be curled into a ball in the middle of the bed for days, there wouldn’t be anything to make him happy. 

You just sighed and sat down next to him again, “I’m not upbeat right now, if I’m being honest,” you looked forward and the sleek grey cupboards, “I can’t train because my stitches will fall out, I can’t run for the same reason. Half of the team treats me like fine china while the other half still punches me in the arm when they tell a funny joke, if I’m hanging out with Steve he will ask if I’m okay after every little thing while Tony doesn’t seem to understand that I don’t like sneak attacks anymore.” You wiped down your face with both hands, “my head still hurts like crazy, especially in that one spot in the back, everyone is too loud and I’ve been called ‘too quiet’ too many times for me to count.” You finally looked over to Bucky who had the saddest eyes, his lips curled down as he scanned over you, “you’re the only one who I can be, somewhat, happy around because you get it. Yes, you can be very cautious but you’ve backed off when I’ve said no and you’ve learned not to push when I can’t remember much. Bucky,” you cupped his face with one hand, you could feel him push into it, “you see me happy around you because you’re the only one who knows how to put a smile on my face right now, and I’m so happy it’s you.” Before he could say anything you pulled him in for a kiss, he hummed into it and reached up to place his hand over yours; it was still resting on his stubbled cheek. 

“I didn’t know I was doing all that right, I thought I was failing.” Bucky muttered against your lips, you could feel the sadness in his voice. 

“I still can’t lift my arm up all the way without it hurting, you wash my hair and put it in the clip when I ask, you might not have figured that food out or my nightmares but you do the little things, and that’s what makes it better.” Bucky’s arms moved down to hold you at your waist, you were still close. All he could do was smile, the kind of smile you use when you get a prize for a thing you really didn’t think mattered or when you’re embarrassed of how you fell in front of everyone; his lips turned down but his eyes smiled. 

The rest of your morning flowed into your afternoon easily, you’d spent some time just lounging in the bed and keeping each other warm. Little make-out session might brew but nothing went too far, it wouldn’t for a while and you both agreed on that. At one point you fell asleep curled up against Bucky’s chest, he stayed still and when it came time, he helped you out of your nightmare. The little kisses littered your face until you were calm again, he didn’t dare to fall asleep at this point because he knew you would too and being woken up by twitches and little pleads for help weren’t something he enjoyed for his own mental health. 

Time: 9:30pm

Date: October 7th 2024

Everyone filed into the cinema room for movie night, this was your first one since you came back. Bucky had tried to talk you out of it due to it being October and a horror movie was on the list, apparently it was a early 2000’s slasher, basically the worst movie to come back to. You were done with hiding away from the team, you wanted to see them again, scary movies didn’t bother you before because you knew they were just movies and alien killers weren’t real, you really didn’t know how much could change now. 

There was a bowl of popcorn for you and Bucky, you sat in the corner so you were nestled into the armrest and the back pillow, Bucky was on your left, cautiously watching you as Nat queued up the movie. 

“I now present,” she held her arms in front of the screen, “Camp Blood!” The movie faded in from black and a hush fell over the team. People snuggled deeping into their blankets and got ready for the movie, you just leaned your head on Bucky’s shoulder and threw a few pieces of popcorn- without butter -in your mouth.

Not even a half an hour later you were really shaken up, the gore and the blood had slowly broken down your walls and gotten to your head. You had hid it so well Bucky genuinely had no idea even though he was checking in on you after every kill, a little kiss to your temple before a double check. 

“I have to pee,” you whispered to Bucky and left the room. 

You sprinted down and to the back where there was a door to the outside, the air was suffocating and you couldn’t breathe. It seemed everything you could remember was flashing in your mind all at once while new memories were coming into play, it was all so overwhelming and you couldn’t handle it. You pushed the door open and stumbled to your knees and the cold fall weather opened your lungs so wide you thought they were going to pop, the gasps came out unevenly and some were quick shots of air. Your hand was pulling and scratching at the finally held bruise on your neck, it was like you could feel the chains slowly wrapping around you like a snake's tail, coming up around your neck and squeezing tightly. 

With one push, the chains in your mind snapped and all the popcorn you had eaten came back out, right onto the deck that was power washed three days ago. A few pieces of kernels got stuck when you took your first breath in but after spitting them out you could finally breathe again. 

You sat back up on your feet and just looked into the night sky, it was too cold for you to be out here but it was peaceful. With the serum you would have been fine with this weather but that had left you, you were free now, if you wanted you could run down the grass into the forest and never see anyone ever again. It was horrifying that that idea was pleasant to you, you’d never see Bucky ever again but you could be free. 

One foot hit the grass, but then the sound of a lock pulled you from your fantasy, you looked over your shoulder to see the lights off and the red emergency lights spinning around. You ran up to bang on the door but no one could see or hear you, “let me on!” you screamed for anyone but you knew these glass doors were sound proof. “Fuck!” 

“Soldat,” you froze, the voice you remembered vividly rang through your head, you shook it off and kept pounding on the door, “they’re never going to help you,” it chanted in your mind. 

“No, let me in!” you screamed again, your head hit the glass door in defeat, the voice mocked you in your brain. You pulled away from the glass and looked into the building, but then your focal point focused on the reflection. 

“Soldat, break in and kill them all.” the voice said, the slick hair and the notch in his brow, the leader that got away. To your horror, your break straightened and your chin went up, you turned towards the man who never gave you his name. He dressed in all black and wore a Hydra pin over his heart, “you really think we’d let you get away?” he asked, “you really think we only gave you the serum?”

“What is happening?” you asked, your mind was being taken over. 

“I’ll say it again. Soldat, break in and kill them all.” his smile grew. 

You didn’t want to, but somehow the other part of you did. 

“copy.” 

And the glass shattered with one punch. 

Winter Makes Ice tag list: @small-death-and-codeine​ @commonintrest​ @buckyys-doll​  @lil-baby-nor @wafflesncream​​

let me know if you want a tag!!!

[writer-k-pop]

Misunderstood (P3)

네가 정크 푸드를 먹고 있어서 그는 불행할 거야. He'd be unhappy because you're eating junk food.

Description: 8 months after starting work as Soonyoung's secretary at Starlight Entertainment, the feelings you have for Soonyoung only continue to grow. When you accidentally end up confessing to him, will he respond and let you into his life or shut you out? Will what you've seen and learned about him in the past eight months be enough? Warnings: Swearing Genre: Angst, Fluff, CEO!Soonyoung/Hoshi x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5.8k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

2 months later

"Late morning, sir?" Seungkwan's voice seeped through the office door.

"Something like that." Soonyoung replies.

I raised my head when the office door opened and Soonyoung walked in dressed very formally. I stood to greet him.

"Morning, (y/n)." Soonyoung beat me to words, "Sorry for being late. I had an appointment."

"Morning." I took my seat again and briefly looked at the calendar, "It wasn't written here."

Soonyoung shook his head, setting up his desk for the day, "It was a last minute thing."

I nodded slowly, "Is it the reason you're wearing formal wear and making me look lazy in the process?" I joked, looking down at my simple but clean outfit.

"Partly yes." Soonyoung answered but quickly rephrased, "I mean, I needed to wear this for the appointment and something I have later on tonight but you could never look lazy. You always look great in your outfits."

My shoulders straightened slightly at his comment. "Oh, thank you."

"Some days, even, I feel like you out-dress me. Which makes me look lazy." He rambled on, trying to make up for something.

I laughed, "That's a pretty high compliment coming from the CEO of Starlight." Straightening a stack of documents, I head over to his desk with the papers and a notepad. "These are the finances from the previous quarter's releases and debuts." I informed him and sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Soonyoung took the documents from me and flips through them before nonchalantly setting them aside. "Our schedule for the day?" He asked, leaning forward, expectantly. I don't know when he started calling it 'our schedule' but I noticed it about a couple months ago. Though every time I try to ask about it, he does what he does best and skirts around it, usually changing subjects. So I decided to just stop asking.

"Let's see." I opened my folder and pulled out the day's schedule, "There's a meeting in 20 minutes about Starlight's finances.”

Soonyoung sighs heavily, "Boring."

"That's what you always say, yet you always pay so much attention in those meetings." I countered but before he could reply, I moved on. "Then you immediately go into rehearsals for Basics and that new group who's name you still have to finalize. They also requested lunch with you so I've arranged for some sandwiches to be delivered to the practice rooms for that."

I glanced up and saw Soonyoung pouting and looking down at his attire which is not fit to be in the practice room.

I nodded towards the closet in the corner, "You seem to forget that you have at least two changes of clothes in there for times like these."

His face lit up at the reminder and I shook my head. Sometimes I believed that if I wasn't around, the poor man would forget his head somewhere.

"What's after all that?" He asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, because you were late and missed your 9am meeting, I moved it to 3pm." I read off, "Then after that, there's nothing."

"Great!" Soonyoung suddenly exclaimed. "How would you like to go out with me tonight?" He asked, shocking me into silence.

I cleared my throat, "Uhm, it's not Thursday, Soonyoung. We usually go out on Thursday nights." I said nervously, wondering why the sudden change.

He shakes his head, "It's not Thursday, but we can still have dinner together, no?" He tilts his head to the side in question.

"I mean, yeah, I guess so." I answered, "Where would you like to go? I'll make the reservation."

Soonyoung shrugged, "Wherever you want to go. You pick tonight." He smiled warmly.

I smiled back, though my mind was racing trying to find a suitable place. "I will do that. Anything else?"

"You want more than dinner?" He asked, shocked. "I mean we could also do dessert but that might be a lot of food. And it might be late when we do, are you sure you can stay up that late?"

I chuckled, "I meant about your daily schedule."

He chuckled too and then shook his head.

I took my leave to my desk but halfway there, Soonyoung suddenly remembered one last thing.

"OH!" He exclaimed and I turned on a dime to face him, "Can you go check up on Alissa Kim and her recovery? And maybe bring her some flowers?"

"We can do it together, later." I reminded him, "You don't have any meetings after 3 and I'm sure she'd love to talk to you in person and not just your secretary."

His mouth dropped open in a small 'o.' "Good idea." He gave me a thumbs up and I walked back to my desk.

"Order flowers." I wrote on a notepad as a reminder.

After some minutes of silence, Soonyoung moved out of his chair.

"Aren't you coming with?" He asked when I didn't move from mine.

I shook my head, "Not this time, unfortunately. Seungkwan asked me for some help on a few things."

Soonyoung's shoulders sagged ever so slightly I'm surprised I even caught it.

"And the rehearsals?" He continued, ignoring the remaining time before his meeting which ticks away.

"I will try but I can't stay for the entirety of it." I answered, "Your job may be chunked off, Soonyoung, but mine never slows."

"Well, remind me to change your job description then." He commented.

"You don't have to, I actually enjoy it a lot." I told him before noticing the time, "Now go before you're late for the second time this morning." I shooed him out of the office as he chuckled.

Once the office door was firmly shut behind him, I took my seat again and let out a breath.

Why would he all of a sudden want to have dinner with me? And the disappointment when he heard I wouldn't be joining the finance meeting. Did I imagine seeing the disappointment? He couldn't have been that disappointed when I said I wouldn't be going, could he? And what last minute appointment could he have had without telling me? Maybe he didn't have time to tell me? No, he always tells me about his schedule if it effects his schedule here. So where was he?

During the past two months, I have done well at keeping my personal feelings out of the workplace but just watching him work and the way he treats his employees makes the feelings continue to grow.

"I've got to stop reading into things." I mumbled to myself before shaking out my shoulders and looking at the new emails that have popped up.

"Reading into what?" Seungkwan's voice appeared in the office making me jump and scream in fear.

I spun around to see him standing half in the door with an apologetic look on his face.

"I didn't mean to scare you." He apologized quickly.

Holding a hand over my heart, I shook my head. "I'm fine. You just snuck up on me."

"You scare easily, don't you?" He observed and made his way to my desk.

"Very." I told me then looked at him in warning, "But don't you ever tell Soonyoung that. He'll take advantage of it and one day you may end up visiting me in the hospital."

Seungkwan let out a loud laugh, "Soonyoung wouldn't do that. Not to you. He cares too much." He said, casually.

I paused for a split second, wondering what he meant by his last statement. 'He cares too much.' About who??

"So can you help with the project?" He continued on as if nothing was wrong with what he had just said.

"Uh, yeah." I watched as he grabbed one of the chairs near Soonyoung's desk and dragged it all the way over to my desk. "I think I can mess with the schedule enough to make it happen."

"Are you sure it's going to be okay for me to take that many days off? I've never done it before." Seungkwan worried.

I nodded, "Yes, it's going to be okay. Your sister's wedding is absolutely a reason to take a week off. Plus like you've said before, I'm here now."

Seungkwan gave me a warm smile and wrapped me in a hug, "You're the best."

...

"I have a reservation under (y/n)." I told the hostess when we reached her station.

The restaurant rumbled with the conversations and clanking of silverware but wasn't extremely busy. I was thankful for that considering I was walking around with the CEO of Starlight Entertainment who I also seemed to have a growing crush on. Liking for? Whatever the appropriate term is.

"Right this way, please." The hostess smiled, picked up two menus, and started walking into the restaurant.

As we passed the kitchen, the warm scents of sharp spices and nutty sauces filled my nose and sent my stomach into a spiraling realization of how hungry I actually was.

"Is right here okay?" The hostess asked, gesturing to the table tucked away in the corner.

"Perfect." I told her and she set the menus on the table before heading back to the front of the restaurant.

"I've never been here before." Soonyoung looked around while blindly placing his jacket on the back of his chair.

I took my seat and glanced around as well, "It's been a few months since I was here but it's one of my favorites." The restaurant has changed decors slightly to match the concurrent season but other than that, it was practically the same.

"If it's one of your favorites, what do you recommend?" Soonyoung sat and opened up his menu, scanning the options.

I opened mine, "Would it be cheesy if I said the whole menu?" I glanced at him a playful smile on my lips.

He tried, and failed, to hold back a laugh and nodded, "Very cheesy. But I'm not complaining."

"Then, the pastas are really good and the steak is also excellent." I offered, ignoring the last part.

"What are you gonna get?" He asked, continuing on the path I'd chosen.

"I think," I paused and scanned the pages, "I think I'm going to get the shrimp pasta. It's got lots of veggies." I smiled happily. "What about you?"

"The braised chicken looks good." Soonyoung leaned back, arms outstretched, like an old man reading his morning newspaper.

"Evening." Our waiter walked up to the table with two glasses of water and set them down in front of us. "My name's Bomin and I'll be your server tonight. Are you ready to order?"

I nodded, "I'll get the veggie and shrimp pasta, please."

"And I'll have the braised chicken." Soonyoung added.

"What would you like as a side?" Bomin questioned, "We have a side salad, mashed potatoes, grilled green beans, or steamed vegetables."

"A salad would be great." Soonyoung smiled, brightly.

"And anything else to drink besides water?" Bomin asked the both of us.

"What kinds of wine do you have?" Soonyoung wondered.

"Oh, I apologize for not having that menu ready for you, Mr. Kwon." Bomin bowed apologetically and pulled out a folded sheet from his apron, "Here are our wines for the season."

I glanced at Soonyoung with a "are you serious?" expression but he was too busy reading the wine menu to notice.

After a couple seconds, he frowned. "Who am I kidding? I'm not a wine connoisseur." Then he leaned forward slightly. "Would you pick one for us?"

Bomin nodded, "Two glasses?"

I put a hand on Soonyoung's arm for a moment to stop him, "Actually, I won't be drinking tonight."

"Why not?" Soonyoung questioned.

"It's a week day and I have to go back to the office later to finish up some things." I informed him.

"Just one glass, then." He said and Bomin nodded before walking away with our menus. "But we drink on Thursdays?" He wondered, turning towards me.

"We do. But it's usually when we're completely clocked out." I told him, "Which I am not currently."

"We have a driver so if you're worried about driving..." Soonyoung reminded me, trailing off.

I shook my head, "I gotta have a clear mind for work."

"Is the work too stressful?" He asked, suddenly very concerned.

My eyes widened at the fact that he would even think that, "Not at all!" I waved my hands in emphasis, "It's a personal choice. Alcohol hits me pretty easily."

Immediately the concern was wiped away and replaced with teasing. "So you're a lightweight. And to think I thought you could handle your alcohol seeing as we drink together weekly."

"And here I thought you'd never been here before yet our waiter seemed to know who you are." I raised my eyebrows at him, throwing his joke back at him.

He raised his hands in surrender, "You caught me." He placed a hand on his heart and bowed his head slightly, "My apologies if I have offended you. It was just fun to see you get excited about this place."

"No offense." I told him, "Just tell me next time."

"You got it." Soonyoung nodded curtly just as our waiter returned with our food and his wine.

...

"Can I ask you something?" I set down my fork, my stomach full to the brim with pasta, shrimp, and veggies.

Soonyoung rested his forearms on the edge of the table, fork and knife still in his hands, "Shoot."

"Why don't you correct them?" I questioned, a dull feeling a deja vu rising.

"Who?" He asked, popping another bite of chicken into his mouth.

"The articles that say you're mean, angry, and selfish." I clarified and watch as his chewing slowed down considerable.

"You could always correct them. There's nothing in any company policy or contract that says you can't." He swallowed and took another bite as if my options were obvious.

"I don't do it because I wouldn't ever do anything you didn't want me doing. And it's clear you don't want to fight the articles so I don't." I explained, "But I'm serious, Soonyoung. Why don't you? They're straight attacking you and your character."

After swallowing, he laid down his fork and knife before wiping his mouth with his napkin. "Because they're not entirely false. And at this point, it'd take too much money and time to correct the situation."

He lifted his wine glass to his lips and took a careful sip. 8 months ago, the stark contrast from the media portrayal of Kwon Soonyoung and the actual Kwon Soonyoung would've shocked me to my core. But now, it just made me worry about how that portrayal was effecting him.

"Plus this way," He swirled the wine around in the glass and stared at it. "I get the best of the best trainees. The ones who know about my 'reputation' and who are still brave enough to join my company because they want this career more than anything in the world."

"I don't think any of what the articles say is true, you know." I said going back to a previous statement of his.

He smiled sadly, still staring at his glass. "Then you don't know me."

"Soonyoung." I turned my body more towards him, "I have worked with you for eight months. I have seen you every working day from literally dawn to dusk sometimes. And none of those articles are true. You aren't mean or angry, you're confident and really good at your job. Sometimes a little too stubborn but that stubbornness has gotten you where you are. And you are nowhere near selfish. You are honestly the most selfLESS man I have ever met. I don't know of any other CEO who personally checks on his trainees on a weekly basis. And not just to check their progress but also their mental and physical health."

Soonyoung chuckled but the sad undertone still lingered. "You don't know what I'm like from sunset to sunrise." He stated.

Before I could stop myself, my heart took the reins, "What if I wanted to?"

He looked at me, eyes searching for any signs of a joke being played. I stared back and hoped I didn't just make a complete fool of myself.

"You." Soonyoung finally spoke, "You want to know that side?"

I nodded, lips sealed together, too afraid I'd say the wrong the thing if I used my voice.

"Why?" He wondered.

I took a deep breath, "Why not?" I started, "I've come to enjoy your presence, your personality, and well, you. The way you had only known me for less than a day when you decided to cut off all business with Mr. Park because I was treated poorly at his company."

"That should've been done years ago." Soonyoung interjected.

"But I was the final push to end it." I continued. "And the way you care so intensely for all of your staff and trainees. Worrying about their health to the point of almost panicking when one is hospitalized. Much like a father."

"Anyone would do that." He interrupted, seemingly not wanting to believe my words.

"No. Not just anyone would do that." I argued with him then continued, "You celebrate each of your artists' comebacks and debuts as if they've just won the biggest award of the year."

"None of those explain why you, (y/n), want to know why I say the rumors are not entirely false." Soonyoung shook his head.

"Because I like the man I've seen everyday at work. I admire his ability to ignore the articles and do what he does best: care for and support others." I stated. "I enjoy seeing the little knick knacks that no one else gets to see. The little jokes you throw that no one else understands. Right now, I have your days. Well, most of them. But I want the nights. I want to see who you are when the company ID is not on your immediate person. When your mind isn't focusing on everyone but yourself. I want that Soonyoung too. Not just the CEO version." I finished softly.

"And what if you don't like that Soonyoung?" He questioned, glancing away like if he saw me say the answer, he wouldn't be able to handle it.

"You mean, what if I find the articles to be true?" I rephrased his question and he simply nodded. "From what I've seen, you're not even half of what they claim you to be. Even if you are a little selfish, mean, or angry outside of the company, anyone would understand. Your life's in the spotlight. Your marriages and subsequent divorces were messy and publicized. Anyone would be angry about that. No one wants a messy life. And who knows, maybe you'll be the one who doesn't like non-secretary (y/n)." I shrugged, reality sitting smugly on my shoulder.

"That'd be impossible." Soonyoung whipped around and countered.

"How do you know?" I questioned, "I could be carrying the weight of four divorces and am just hiding it." I joked.

Soonyoung's eyes widen in shock, "Do you?" He lowered his voice and leaned closer, a hint of belief could be heard.

I smiled and giggled, "No, if I went through four husbands in the span of my life so far, I would say I'm a very messed up person."

He let out sigh of relief then glanced at his watch. "Oh shit, it's already 9pm."

"Already?" I snatched my phone from my purse then cursed under my breath when the clock surely reads 9:06pm. "I gotta get back to the company."

Soonyoung only nodded as I stood up. "You go ahead, have Sam take you and then tell him he can go home."

"What about you?" I worried, hands resting on the back of my chair.

He raised his half full wine glass, "I think I'll finish this wine and then take a taxi home."

I shifted from one foot to the other, uneasy about his plan.

"It'll be fine, I've done it before." Soonyoung said when he noticed my nervousness. "Just go and get your work done and then go home and rest."

"Okay." I caved to his plan and turned to leave.

As I thanked the hostess, the realization that I basically confessed to Soonyoung and he didn't give a full answer hits, crushing my soul like a ton of bricks. Sam was waiting outside and opened the car door for me when I exited the building.

"Is Mr. Kwon having a wine night again?" He wondered when he took in my solo appearance.

It took a second to register that he was talking to me. But my voice didn't want to work so I just simply nodded and dipped into the car.

Sam closed the door, quickly moved to the driver's seat, and began the drive to the company. Leaning my head against the window, I couldn't help but replay parts of the night's events. From the aloof conversations during the meal to the sombre atmosphere at the end. The sadness in his eyes projecting his belief in the rumors about him burned into my mind.

'Because it's not entirely false.' Soonyoung's voice echoed in my mind. 'None of those explain why you, (y/n), want to know why I say the rumors are not entirely false.'

"Ms. (y/l/n)?" Sam spoke from the front of the car, breaking me out of my thoughts. "We've arrived."

I looked out the window and sure enough, we were parked in front of the company building.

"Thank you, Sam." I said and then exited the car.

Scanning my ID, I waited for the loud clicks of the doors. As I walked through the lobby, I heard some chatter near the cafe. Walking over, I caught two male and two female trainees snacking on chips and junk food.

"What are you doing?" I asked, making them freeze.

"We were hungry." One of the male trainees lowers his gaze in shame.

"We didn't have enough cash for any meals." A female trainee added on.

"What do you think Mr. Kwon would say?" I said, crossing my arms.

The younger male trainee took in a breath, "He wouldn't be very happy at us for eating."

I smiled sadly. It was obvious that this trainee was new and had read the articles. "You're right. He wouldn't be very happy but not because you're eating. He'd be unhappy because you're eating junk food and not proper food." I looked towards the older trainees, "You know you could've asked for a meal and the company would've paid for it."

"We couldn't find anyone here this late." The second female trainee said.

"What about your managers?" I questioned, eyebrows scrunching in concern.

"Ours went home for the night." The older male trainee said.

"And ours is already really stressed about Alissa so we didn't want to stress him out even more." The second female trainee explained.

"How many of you are here in the practice rooms right now?" I asked, realizing that their hushed tones must've meant they were trying to hide from everyone in the building.

"A few more of us." The first female trainee stated, "They said they weren't hungry so we came out because Tae was on the verge of fainting." She gestured towards the younger male.

I sighed and pulled out my wallet. Sliding out the company card, I handed it to the first female trainee, "There's a sandwich shop down the street that's always open until 11. Go buy enough sandwiches and water for everyone who's in that practice room."

The trainee took the card into her hands with care, as if a sudden movement would break the card in two.

"And when you get back with the food, you can bring the card up to my office to return it." I finished, "And don't do this again."

"You won't tell Mr. Kwon, will you?" The older male trainee asked, worry in his voice.

I smiled and shook my head, "I won't if you leave right now."

With that, all four of them stood up, bowed, and quickly left the building, talking excitedly about what kinds of sandwiches they were going to buy. I watched them until they disappeared from view then began throwing their trash in the garbage can. After their mess was cleaned up, I quickly shuffled to the elevators and didn't even have to wait for an elevator to arrive. Once I reached the tenth floor, I nearly jogged down the hall and into the office.

The draft's deadline was up at midnight and I hadn't even started to organize and make it presentable. Sitting down, I began to type, click, and drag paragraphs and diagrams around into the order I wanted them.

Halfway through my computer haze, a knock sounded from the office doors.

"Come in." I called, thinking it was the trainee returning my company card.

The door opened and closed and footsteps made their way towards my desk. Again, thinking it was the trainee, I didn't bother to look up or take in the fact that the footsteps were much heavier against the floor.

"What was a trainee doing with your company card?" Soonyoung's voice made my entire body freeze. He set the card down on my desk by my keyboard.

Squeezing my eyes shut in failure, I let out a breath. "I caught them eating junk food in the lobby and told them to use my card to buy them and their fellow trainees some sandwiches at the shop down the street."

I reached for the card but Soonyoung placed his hand over mine, effectively stopping me.

"And you weren't going to tell me?" He questioned.

I stayed silent and he took that as his answer.

"That would explain why she looked so nervous when I asked her what she was doing at the elevators." He chuckled. "Where were the managers?"

I looked up at him then. His cheeks were slightly tinged pink so he wasn't drunk but he wasn't completely sober either. His hair looked more messy than when I had left him over an hour ago like he'd run his hand through it one too many times. In his state, I wondered if I should tell him now or wait until the morning.

Soonyoung pouted, "Please? I promise I won't do anything about it until the morning." He held out his pinkie.

I gave him a lopsided grin and connected my pinkie with his. "It was a group of female and male trainees. The female trainees didn't want to bother their manager because their manager is with Alissa. And the male trainees said their manager simply went home for the night."

"He just left them here?" Soonyoung stood up straight, in disbelief. "Absolutely ridiculous." I took the opportunity to pull my previous trapped hand back towards me. The warmth of Soonyoung's hand still lingered on my skin.

I looked up in time to see Soonyoung march towards his desk, muttering something about firing or disciplinary action.

"Soonyoung," I called out to him, making him pause and look towards me. I raised an eyebrow, "You promised nothing until tomorrow morning."

He composed himself and pulled his shoulders back. "You're right. I promised." Then he made his way to small couch opposite his desk, and conveniently perpendicular to mine, and plopped himself down on it.

After eyeing him for a couple seconds, I decided he wasn't going to do anything rash.

"Let me finish this draft and then we can get you home." I told him, eyes already back on my computer monitors.

As I worked, I could feel his eyes staring at me from the couch. I brushed it off, needing to finish it by the deadline but after a while, it became impossible to ignore.

"Can I help you something, Soonyoung?" I asked, looking over at him.

Soonyoung lazily shook his head, "Nope, I'm just lookin' at you."

"Why? Do I have something on your face?" I wondered, hands flying to my cheeks.

He shook his head again, "Nope, you're just pretty."

I felt my heart speed up to 100 miles an hour and tried to hide it. "I think you had a little too much wine. And why did you come back here? I thought you were going home after you were finished at the restaurant?"

"I missed you." Soonyoung sank further in the couch, his head resting back.

We fell into a silence filled only by the clicks of my mouse and the clacks of my keyboard as I tried my best to refocus on the task at hand.

"Say something." Soonyoung whispered just as I saved and sent the document off. An hour before the deadline, but still the latest I had ever turned something in.

"What would you like me to say, Soonyoung?" I questioned, moving towards my email, looking for anything urgent before I took him home.

“Anything." He said softly.

I looked at him from my desk. His eyes trained on the ceiling and his shoulders sagging in exhaustion. I couldn't tell whether the exhaustion was physical or mental.

"Shouldn't it be me asking you to say something?" I countered, watching his face as he tries to decipher what I meant.

He stayed silent as I packed my bag, turned off my computer, and helped him to his feet. The entire way to my car he was silent. I had wanted to check on the trainees before I left but with Soonyoung at my side, that wasn't something I could've managed so I decided to do it the next day when I could sneak away. Knowing the way to his home, I drove us in a never ending silence through the dark night.

When we arrived at his house, he still hadn't said a word. Even as I guided him into his house, his lips stayed shut, voice mute.

"If you're not going to say anything, then I will." I finally spoke, stopping in my tracks. Soonyoung doesn't realize I stopped until he's a few steps ahead and turned around.

"I like you. I want to know every version of you that there is. And I want to make my own conclusions. Not rely on the ones from the articles." I launched into a small confession. "If you don't feel the same, just say so and I'll go back to being your secretary and only your secretary. You just have to say so."

I waited for an answer but he still stayed silent. As I turned to leave, he finally spoke.

"I've never had anyone who wanted to know." He said softly, taking small steps towards me. "Well, there have been a few but they all got scared by the articles before they could make their own conclusions. So I'd learned to just let people believe what they wanted. And then you showed up. From day one, you didn't treat me like the big intimidating boss like the others had. You treated me like a regular, stressed out CEO trying his best to run a successful company."

I looked down, trying to hide a smile at his near exact CEO image I saw.

"I'm grateful for that, you know. But I'm afraid that you'll walk away like everyone else." Soonyoung continued. "That you'll end up hating what you find and leave." By now he was standing right in from of me. Close enough that I saw his longing for me and the fear that rimmed his eyes.

"I can't promise that I won't leave." I almost whispered, "But I can promise I won't be scared off by the articles and make my own conclusion."

He leaned his forehead against mine, "That's enough for me." He mumbled before placing lips on mine.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, it was easy to melt into him and his kiss. His arms wrapped tightly around my waist and I could smell the last traces of wine against his familiar cologne.

We pulled apart but stayed wrapped in each other's arms.

"So I was never reading too much into things all these months?" I questioned, looking into his happy eyes.

"Probably not." Soonyoung smiled.

"Then if you'll give me this answer, when did this all start?" I wondered carefully.

Soonyoung looked off to the side in thought, "Probably a few months ago. I had asked you what 'our' schedule was in the elevator and you had totally missed the fact that I said 'our' and said it all in terms of 'your' schedule."

I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed back slightly. "I'm sorry, I don't remember this ever happening."

"You don't?" He asked, in surprise, "It was the morning when I bought you the apology coffee from the cafe in the lobby?"

"THAT day?" I repeated, "Why that day?"

Soonyoung shrugged, pulled away but grabbed my hand, leading me towards the back of the house. "I think it was the day when I knew you were fully committed to the job and to me. It was refreshing and wonderful to know that I had someone so close who was on my side all the time. At least during the business hours."

We reached the living room and he sat us down.

"And to think, I barely remember that day." I thought back to the day, "Except for the coffee and Alissa's hospitalization, that day is blurred with the rest."

He chuckled, "Doesn't matter much now though."

"I should get going." I said, standing back up, "It's late and you should also be getting some sleep, especially after the wine you consumed."

Soonyoung looked up at me, lips pouted, "Why don't you stay here for tonight?"

I smiled, "Two reasons: 1. I don't have a change of clothes with me and I don't particularly want to show up to work tomorrow in today's clothes. 2. Why would I stay the night at a guy's house when he hasn't even taken me out to dinner yet?"

He opened his mouth to retort but quickly realized I had valid points.

"I win." I stated happily, "I'll show myself out and you get some sleep, mister." I playfully scold him.

"And if I take you out to dinner?" He called out after me.

I laughed, "Then we'll see!"

"Free your schedule for Friday night." Soonyoung basically demanded, "And I mean it, no 'gotta go back to the company' excuses. I'm taking you out on Friday night."

I turned around and waved a hand above my head, "It's a date!"

As I walked away, I heard Soonyoung whisper a very excited 'yessss' to himself and it brought a smile to my face.

I took a deep breath once outside the front door. I didn't know what I would find on this journey but one thing was for sure: Soonyoung wouldn't stop caring for me or making me laugh.

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Brown

One-Shot

Description: Nick Vaughn meets the Reader for the first time after the end of the movie Before We Go.

Warning: None. Some sadness in the beginning but overall fluff with a happy ending. I managed to keep this one appropriate for all ages 😅😅

This one-shot is my entry for Week 6 of the Weekly Writing Challenge organised by @donutloverxo , @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho and @captain-a-rogerss . The fic was supposed to be based on the moodboard below. Click here to participate in the challenge!

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr and AO3, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

Life felt dull. Boring. Plain. Desolate. 

Life felt brown for Nick Vaughn. 

After dropping off Brooke, the married art consultant whom he had unfortunately developed feelings for, Nick had skipped his audition for Duke Terry. Always the one to look for signs, he thought letting Brooke go was an indication that, maybe, he should let go of his jazz career as well. 

He crashed at his friend's place in New York for a few days, hoping to find a sign, a direction, or just a goddamn clue about what should he do with his life, now that he was all alone. Nick's long days turned into even longer nights, with beer always available to give him company.

Finally, on the 15th day of his self-inflicted house arrest, his friend finally pushed him out of the door, urging him to take a walk and explore, "Get out! You are not going to get a sign while wallowing in your sadness!" his roommate exclaimed.

Nick's steps were measured on the sidewalk, barely making any progress. He looked around and saw multiple signs of the shops hung at both the sides of the road. Not exactly the signs I am looking for, he muttered under his breath.

The vivid colours around him turned darker and murkier, turning into filthy shades of brown to compliment his mood. As he turned the corner, sweet notes of music somehow managed to break through his swamp of a mood, luring him inside the black record store as if in a trance.

6 BLOCKS AWAY, you were working on your script, furiously typing away on your laptop. You groaned into your coffee as you re-read your pages, and swiftly clicked on "DELETE". Your story about a jazz musician who goes from rags to riches to rags again was already done to death. Growing up surrounded by wonderful jazz culture, you were hell-bent on writing a story that represented the magic created by this genre of music. 

You took your coffee to go, heading towards a quaint records store nearby. Maybe inspiration was waiting for you in a shiny black record? 

Just outside your next destination, an oblivious passerby managed to barge into you, spilling your coffee on your dress, barely missing the laptop case. Great, just what I needed, you muttered entering the store.

"Hey girl what's- ohh why the frown?" Earl greeted you as you stepped inside. 

"You ever think to yourself, why me? That's exactly what I am thinking right now Earl," you replied none too gracefully, placing your laptop case on the billing counter. 

"Here use these napkins to wipe that off. What is it? Coffee?" You nodded in response. "You can hardly see it on your brown dress doll," Earl assured you. 

"I am stuck on my script Earl," you admitted, "I have to submit it in a week and… ugh I just don't know what to write! You have been the owner of this store for almost 40 years now-" 

"52," Earl corrected you with pride. 

"Help me," you slumped your shoulders.

"I don't know nothing about scripts doll. But I do know what will inspire you." He nodded his head towards Nick, "See that tall drink of a man? That's your inspiration right there."

"Who is he?" you inquired.

"I don't know."

"Then how can he help me?"

"Have you seen him doll?" Earl cocked an eyebrow, "That man had me wishing I was 30 years younger. Just look at that back, those thighs, and the plump butt-"

"You are married Earl," you reminded him, breaking his trance.

He smirked at you, "So what? Just because I have a husband at home didn't mean I can't look at the menu. A damn fine menu at that."

You chuckled, shaking your head, "This better work Earl. Tell James I said hi."

"Will do," Earl called out after you as you headed towards the mystery stranger.

You had to admit, he was more than pleasant to look at. As he was busy listening to a record via headphones, you tapped his shoulder to get his attention. Nothing prepared you for the mesmerizing blue eyes that pierced through your heart.

He stared at you intently, waiting for you to speak. When you didn't, he just said a small, "Hi." Clearing your throat, you introduced yourself. "Are you a musician?" you asked him.

"Did my depressed looks give me away?" the corners of his mouth turned slightly upwards.

"Oh no no, you look damn fine. I-I mean good. You look good," you gushed, barely managing to keep a straight face, "The reason I asked you is because this shop is not exactly a hotspot for music listeners. Very few musicians know about this place."

"I was a musician. Used to play the trumpet, but not anymore," he shared solemnly.

"Oh that is actually perfect!" you claimed excitedly, "You see I am a script-writer and I am currently working on a story about a jazz musician. Maybe you can give me some pointers?"

The man narrowed his eyes, "I am sorry I don't think I can help you." He started making his way towards the exit.

"No wait," you almost shouted, "Listen. I am really desperate." You grabbed his upper-arm and turned him around gently. You didn't let go as he faced you. Wow, you thought, feeling the thick, strong muscle beneath your fingers.

It was then that Nick actually looked at you. He took in the colour of your eyes, the shape of your face and your lips. He glanced down, noticing how well the dress draped over your figure. Were you really wearing a brown dress? He looked around the store, the dull surroundings suddenly restoring themselves to their original colour. The sepia decor turned into shades of pastel blue and green as the covers of the albums transformed to bright yellow, orange, red and black.

He looked at you again, your dress still brown as you made your case, asking his help for a script. As you let go of his arm, the world started to turn a shade of brown. Yet, it restored when he inhaled your perfume. 

"Please, is a sign," your sweet voice broke his train of thought. 

"A sign?" Nick managed to ask.

"Yes a sign! I have to submit my script in a week and I have absolutely no idea what goes on in a jazz musician's life! I came here to talk to Earl," you gestured towards the cash register and Earl enthusiastically waved at Nick, "and I met you! A real musician! Please help me. I will even buy you lunch," you offered.

"Lunch is a good idea, since you surely cannot be trusted with coffee," Nick smiled. 

You blushed looking down at your dress. "I am Nick," he extended his palm. Shaking it, you started, "Hi Nick. I am-"

"I know you already told me," he interrupted you, repeating your name. 

Earl threw you a wink as you both stepped out the door. Nick's phone buzzed. He beamed as he read the message; Duke Terry's team still wanted him to come and audition for them. Turns out the vacancy for a trumpet player hadn't been filled yet.

His eyes never left you as the two of you walked down the street, his attention lost to your voice as you explained what you needed from him. 

Maybe he was meant to leave the house today. Maybe he was destined to run into you. Maybe you were the sign that he was looking for. Whatever it was, he was sure about one thing, brown was definitely one of his favourite colours now.

Chris and his characters' taglist - @onetwo3000

Taglist open! Just comment, send an ask or message!

[swinterr]

VALERIE III

People in Twitter are twitting about a video of Val’s reaction when she saw Shawn and Camila, she received mixed comments about her reaction.

Her parents are really protective about her, even her siblings mostly Vernon. Her Dad and Mom doesn’t understand what’s happening between them, they all thought that Shawn is gonna be Valerie’s forever.

Of course Shawn saw the video. He’s not stupid, he knows that he’s hurting Val.

He also saw the message Valerie send him but he didn’t read the it because he knows he cannot stop himself on answering back.

He loves Valerie so much, but he has to do this.

When he first play the video the first came to his mind is that Valerie looks so pretty, very pretty. Valerie isn’t really like those blonde, long legged, orange tan (well she is tan but not oramge tan). She looks like a goddess. She’s perfect.

Then he saw Vernon from the background, Shawn gets along well with Valerie’s family well but Vernon is the hardest one to get along. He is scared genuinely of Vernon.

The time when Brian told him that Valerie broke up with him, he excused himself on sound check saying he wasn’t feeling well. He went back to his hotel and cried holding Valerie sweater in his chest.

He cried for the half of the day. He only went out when it’s Q&A.

He really wants to fix this but he can’t, it’s too fucked up to be fixed. He feels so powerless.

-

Valerie feels awful when she got back home.

She didn’t ate dinner instead she spend her whole evening, well half of it, on the gym boxing with Vernon is a good exercise but she did her exercises alone, she did it without a trainer while Vernon does cardio. Actually she didn’t even do her exercises, she just keeps punching the punching bag until her knuckles bleed, until they severely bleed. Her mom has to take her to the nearest clinic to aid her bloody knuckles.

“Val, you’re knuckles are going to bleed if you keep doing this. Stop it you’re hurting yourself.” Vernon tried reasoning with Valerie, growing more and more concerned about her and her new obsession with puching the punching bag carelessly.

“No, it’s either I ruined this punching bag or I do more stupider sh!t than this.” Valerie’s voice is quiet and cold, She always had a my-voice-is-so-soft-and-I-will-not-raise-my-voice-on-anyone-bc-that’s-rude-attitude.

“Can you at least where gloves, hand wrap is not enough you know.” Vernon reminder her.

Valerie didn’t listen and brought her fists close to her face, finding her aim and released all of her pent up anger, frustrations and pain out through quick, sharp punches, showing no mercy on the already worn punching bag wanting to release all the pain she felt in the past few weeks. Sweat glistened every inch of her body, especially in her face.

Vernon can’t even distinguish if that even is sweat or tears, her curly hair sticking to her back, arms and all angles of her face.

Val could her Vernon stopping her in the background but she didn’t listen.

Soon the punching bag falls from where it’s hanging. And Valerie knuckles are bleeding.

“Dammit Valerie! You’re bleeding! Mom!” Vernon shouts.

Ever since Val and Shawn broke up Vernon is more over-protective of Val.

She really wants to go back to Toronto, but Toronto has too much memories for her to handle. She wishes that Bella and Gigi are here with her. She’s lucky enough to have a thought, loving and caring Anwar Hadid by her side.

Gigi, Bella and Anwar (even though they live near), Aaliyah, Ana, Lauren and Dylan (her friends back home), Kiera and Darius (her dorm mates) are texting her everyday saying that everything gonna be alright and Shawn’s a dick.

She can’t wait to go back to Massachusetts and receive pity looks. Insert sarcasm.

She just needs to wait few more days until they are schedule free.

Valerie hadn’t spoken to anyone since they came back from downtown Los Angles (besided her mom and Vernon who approach her). She is currently laying in her king sized bed.

Staring at the clock, watching it tick by. 11 o’clock in the night, she should be asleep by now but her mind is somewhere far away. Far away from all this drama and chaos that is currently happening in her life.

Sobbing her heart out. Puffy eyes and runny nose are they best description of Valerie right now. Maybe a fever in the morning too.

She never wanted to end their relationship like this. To be honest they can survive this relationship, Valerie is just tired of being treated like this.

Don’t get me wrong, Shawn’s a great boyfriend but he focuses on his career more than their relationship.

People though they are perfect for each other. She thought that Shawn will be THE ONE. Her grandparents from her mother and father’s side already met and approve of Shawn even the ones who live in Florence.

She genuinely believe that they are ment to be together but jealousy got her. Her insecurities got her.

Her heart still aches profoundly with pain. She miss her so much but it’s so unfair that he moved in that quickly.

Valerie, Shawn and Camila are trending right now. Everything seems so chaotic. Her sobs still fills her big room.

Instagram stans are making up the craziest sh!ts right, some makes her laugh and some are true that makes her cry hard.

@queenval

@queenval to be honest val is the greatest thing that ever happend to shawn. i love shawn sm but he stupid!!

50,234 likes

Shawn is the greatest thing that ever happend to her.

Shawn’s fans been calling him out because of his stupid moves. Many of her fans are still supporting Valerie even if they are not together anymore.

Valerie shakily reaches for her phone she usually listens to His music when she’s sad, but at this state listening to His music will make her more sad than ever.

Malibu Nights by LANY played. Is it ironic that she is listening to Malibu Nights heartbroken and she really wants to go to Malibu. Its just a 40 minute car ride. She can survive right?

She brought a beach house recently somewhere in Pacific Coast Highway. She brought it the exact day Shawn left Canada to continue his tour, Valerie brought the house because when she will visit Shawn on his tour this will be their hiding place.

People say that Valerie have it all; Brains, Beauty, Wealth but everything means nothing if you aren’t happy right?

Decided to spent the rest of her days in Malibu. Valerie picked this big ass box that has been sent to her by a company. She didn’t even bother to read what company it is all she knows that is a clothing company. Few shoes, hoodies and her underwears on her bag.

She dressed herself into a pair of jeans and a shirt, hoodie on her arm incase she’ll needs it.

Everyone is asleep so this should be the perfect time to sneak out, she closed her room door quietly as she held the big box on her hands, struggling to balance it and keys and a Gucci bagpack filled with he laptop, personal needs, medicines and this tiny vape pen she got from Anwar.

Valerie isn’t the type of girl who does wild stuffs, stuff like normal teenagers do. Maybe that’s the reason why they broke up, she’s too boring for him.

Well now that they are over, Valerie wants to do the things she didn’t do when they were together. Things teenagers would do.

Now she be vaping, she wants to have tattooes too. Val got a rose tattoo behind her ear on her 19th birthday. She wants to add more.

Valerie successfully got down from the 3rd floor, her room, to the ground floor.

She wants to do things that she hasn’t done yet. She opened her parents wine cellar and pulled out a bottle of Pinot Noir with a three bottles of beer and a big bottle of her father’s whiskey.

She didn’t really want to steal this alcoholic beverage but she know that many shops out there knows her and has a high possibility that they will post pictures about her underage and buying drinks.

She puts the bottles on her bag, wanting to go to Malibu quickly, she runs towards their garage, mentally kicking herself for having a loud foot steps.

For Valerie if is she’s sad or disappointed she chooses to be alone. Being with herself alone is always the best part of her day or best time of her day.

Valerie picked the black Mercedes-Benz G wagon.

She puts her things in the passengers seat and zoomed off to Malibu.

She felt tears start to form as the now familiar burn caused her to shut

her eyes for a moment and stop at the side of the expressway she like crying. For her crying is good for her mental health because crying can help reduce pain. Oxytocin is a hormone that promotes feelings of love and Endorphins help relieve pain. These two make people feel good and may also ease both physical and emotional pain.

But sometimes crying too much can also be bad for her, too much crying can lead to depression and she doesn’t want that. All she wants is to move on and live a happy life.

But moving on takes a lot of time.

The whole drive was quiet except for the radio and her quiet sobs.

She stopped on Target along the way to pick up some food for the next few days.

Valerie pulls up on the parking lot. The Californian cold wind creeps on her arm, regretting not wearing a hood and leaving it at the car.

Valerie pulls out the vape pen as she walks along the entrance of Target, she holds it to her mouth, tasting the vanilla flavored vape before releasing it. She lets out a deep sigh with some vapor leaving along her mouth and nose she continues this few times and stopping as she enters the shop.

She just pick up fruits for breakfast, pasta, vegetables and chicken for dinner, chocolate flavored milk, a gallon of water and eggs. She likes cooking, she doesn’t buy a lot of processed foods and microwaveble foods. She payed the cashier keeps giving her looks, is it because the cashier knows her or because she is the front page of one of the magazines on the counter.

“Is this you?” the cashier ask as she types something on the computer.

“Nope.” Valerie answers back as puts the goods she brought on a biodegradable bag and puts it back to the cart.

She walk back to her car and few teenagers curiously stares at her. She struggles to put the groceries on the car because it has a big tires and obviously a tall car competed to her 5’6 self.

She finally sees her house on the view.

Her gates open, headlights giving her the view of her house as well as the Pacific Ocean. The entryway features a reclaimed European fountain and big door that open to opulent interiors.

Her house looks so homey yet loney. She is used to go on a vacation with her family or family or with Shawn.

She inserts the keys while struggling to lift her heavy backpack filled with alcoholic drinks the big box and groceries she brought are stacked upon each other.

She enters her new house, she walks on the hardwood floors pushing the box with the groceries on top, she stares at vaulted ceiling and sees a Indian stone fireplace and custom designed sitting area.

For her, a house with a fireplace and a big couch is a must.

The balcony is a sliding door that has a view of the Malibu Coast.

Valerie finally fixed her clothes on her closet, turns out the box is from Gucci. Now she has a Gucci filled closet. Yey!

Her refrigerator is filled with groceries. Yey!

It’s already 12:34 am and she is still wide awake. She sits on her couch as she finds for her cell.

She looked everywhere, her hoodie, her bag, her car, on the closet even the refrigerator.

She left it on Bel Air. Yey!

She doesn’t have anything to do she she just drinks the alcohol she brought lol! Her TV still doesn’t have any channels and her house doesn’t have a wifi.

Valerie drinks the vodka shot in one gulp, ignoring the burning sensation in her throat caused by the strong liquor.

“I love you so much why did you do this to me!” she gulped the vodka down.

“I wish I didn’t love you! But I did I’m so stupid!” she gulped the other one.

“I don’t wanna date anyone anymore!” and another one.

Despite this, Valerie’s body feels more relaxed and her mind feels lighter and more problem free. It took her couple vodka shots for achieve this but it was worth it.

The bottle is nearly empty so she just decided to drink the bottle.

It’s a quarter past midnight. The buzz has worn off, now she is just dead ass drunk.

She miraculously arrived at her room, passing the stairs and remembering her room is a miracle.

As much as she wanted to sleep she washes her face and brushed her teeth and changes in a bougee Gucci pajama and sleep on her big bed with the view of the sea like a baby.

Alcohol can really make you forget everything temporarily even pain.

taglist:

@night-girls-world

@alinashawn

@feliciaceciliamariajacobsson

-

I FINALLY POSTED THIS. PLEASE LOVE ITT HEHEEH

[storyswept]

Valyrian Steel Remembers : A Theory about Ice, Widow’s Wail and Oathkeeper (Part IV)

Welcome to the fourth (and last) part of this essay.

Links to the previous installments: Part I, Part II, Part III

Previously, I discussed the changes in Ice’s Valyrian steel and how it might have been stained by blood and soul like in the tale of Lightbringer’s forging.

This time we’re going to focus on the role(s) Widow’s Wail and Oathkeeper might have in the narrative.

Widow’s Wail, Oathkeeper and The Long Night

Both Widow’s Wail and Oathkeeper are Valyrian steel blades. For this reason alone, they could be useful in the fight against the White Walkers. It’s been suggested in “A Feast for Crows” that Others are vulnerable to Valyrian steel:

 "The armor of the Others is proof against most ordinary blades, if the tales can be believed," said Sam, "and their own swords are so cold they shatter steel. Fire will dismay them, though, and they are vulnerable to obsidian." He remembered the one he had faced in the haunted forest, and how it had seemed to melt away when he stabbed it with the dragonglass dagger Jon had made for him.

"I found one account of the Long Night that spoke of the last hero slaying Others with a blade of dragonsteel. Supposedly they could not stand against it."

"Dragonsteel?" Jon frowned. "Valyrian steel?"

- AFFC, Samwell I

But there’s plenty of evidence indicating both blades could have an even bigger role to play in the Long Night to come.

1) It’s mentioned several times how both blades are “unique”, because of their peculiar coloring.

“The colors are strange,” he commented as he turned the blade in the sunlight. (...)

“A crimson sword might flash prettily in the sun, but if truth be told I like these colors better,” said Tyrion. “They have an ominous beauty … and they make this blade unique. There is no other sword like it in all the world, I should think.” “There is one.” The armorer bent over the table and unfolded the bundle of oilcloth, to reveal a second longsword.

- ASOS, Tyrion IV

“Is this Valyrian steel? I have never seen such colors.”

- ASOS, Jaime IX

2) There’s foreshadowing for the blades to be involved in an heroic deed.

“A sword to sing of, sire,” said Lord Redwyne.

“A king’s sword,” said Ser Kevan Lannister. King Joffrey looked as if he wanted to kill someone right then and there, he was so excited. He slashed at the air and laughed.

“A great sword must have a great name, my lords! What shall I call it?”

- ASOS, Sansa IV

As Joff drew his sword, Margaery laid a hand on his arm to restrain him. "Widow's Wail was not meant for slicing pies."

- ASOS, Tyrion VIII

When she slid Oathkeeper from the ornate scabbard, Brienne's breath caught in her throat. Black and red the ripples ran, deep within the steel. Valyrian steel, spell-forged. It was a sword fit for a hero. When she was small, her nurse had filled her ears with tales of valor, regaling her with the noble exploits of Ser Galladon of Morne, Florian the Fool, Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, and other champions. Each man bore a famous sword, and surely Oathkeeper belonged in their company, even if she herself did not. "You'll be defending Ned Stark's daughter with Ned Stark's own steel," Jaime had promised.

- AFFC, Brienne I

3) Another connection to the forging of Lightbringer is hidden in one of Brienne’s chapters: three swords, the last of which is Oathkeeper, are mentioned in the following quote.

Her scabbard was a plain thing, wood wrapped in cracked brown leather, and her sword was plainer still. She had bought it in King's Landing, to replace the blade the Brave Companions had stolen. Renly's sword. It still hurt, knowing she had lost it.

But she had another longsword hidden in her bedroll. She sat on the bed and took it out. Gold glimmered yellow in the candlelight and rubies smoldered red. When she slid Oathkeeper from the ornate scabbard, Brienne's breath caught in her throat. Black and red the ripples ran, deep within the steel. Valyrian steel, spell-forged. It was a sword fit for a hero. When she was small, her nurse had filled her ears with tales of valor, regaling her with the noble exploits of Ser Galladon of Morne, Florian the Fool, Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, and other champions. Each man bore a famous sword, and surely Oathkeeper belonged in their company, even if she herself did not. "You'll be defending Ned Stark's daughter with Ned Stark's own steel," Jaime had promised.

- AFFC, Brienne I

4) Jaime had an interesting dream in “A Storm of Swords”, involving Brienne, darkness and burning swords (among others).

[Cersei’s] torch was the only light in the cavern. Her torch was the only light in the world. She turned to go. “Stay with me,” Jaime pleaded. “Don’t leave me here alone.” But they were leaving.

“Don’t leave me in the dark!” Something terrible lived down here.

“Give me a sword, at least.”

“I gave you a sword,” Lord Tywin said. It was at his feet. Jaime groped under the water until his hand closed upon the hilt. Nothing can hurt me so long as I have a sword.

As he raised the sword a finger of pale flame flickered at the point and crept up along the edge, stopping a hand’s breath from the hilt.

The fire took on the color of the steel itself so it burned with a silvery-blue light, and the gloom pulled back. Crouching, listening, Jaime moved in a circle, ready for anything that might come out of the darkness.

From behind came a great splash. Jaime whirled toward the sound … but the faint light revealed only Brienne of Tarth, her hands bound in heavy chains. “I swore to keep you safe,” the wench said stubbornly. “I swore an oath.” Naked, she raised her hands to Jaime. “Ser. Please. If you would be so good.” The steel links parted like silk. “A sword,” Brienne begged, and there it was, scabbard, belt, and all. (...)

Brienne’s sword took flame as well, burning silvery blue. The darkness retreated a little more.

(...)

Tell me, Jaime. What lives here? What lives in the darkness?”

“Doom.” No bear, he knew. No lion. “Only doom.”

(...) there came two riders on pale horses, men and mounts both armored. The destriers emerged from the blackness at a slow walk. They make no sound, Jaime realized. No splashing, no clink of mail nor clop of hoof. He remembered Eddard Stark, riding the length of Aerys’s throne room wrapped in silence. Only his eyes had spoken; a lord’s eyes, cold and grey and full of judgment.

“Is it you, Stark?” Jaime called. “Come ahead. I never feared you living, I do not fear you dead.” Brienne touched his arm. “There are more.” He saw them too.

They were armored all in snow, it seemed to him, and ribbons of mist swirled back from their shoulders.

- ASOS, Jaime VI

Now, in Jaime’s dream, the riders turned out to be the dead members of the Kingsguard accompanied by Rhaegar Targaryen. But if you compare the description above with the ones mentioning the Others, you get more than a few similarities:

The Others made no sound.

(...)

A shadow emerged from the dark of the wood. It stood in front of Royce. Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every step it took.

- AGOT, Prologue

Tormund turned back. "You know nothing. You killed a dead man, aye, I heard. Mance killed a hundred. A man can fight the dead, but when their masters come, when the white mists rise up … how do you fight a mist, crow? Shadows with teeth … air so cold it hurts to breathe, like a knife inside your chest … you do not know, you cannot know … can your sword cut cold?"  

- ADWD, Jon XII

When the swords burned in Jaime’s dream, “the darkness retreated”, just like in a certain prophecy:

"In ancient books of Asshai it is written that there will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world. In this dread hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him."

- ACOK, Davos I

Will Widow’s Wail and Lightbringer bring the dawn?

It’s a possibility, though the prophecy mentioned only one sword, and there are of course, other Lightbringer candidates, like Stannis’ sword, the ancestral sword of the Dayne’s (Dawn) or Daenerys’ dragons.

Ice could be reforged, but considering two swords appeared in Jaime’s dream, it might not be until after the White Walkers are defeated (if they’re defeated).

I mentioned dragons because the original Lightbringer seemed to kill in a manner very reminiscent of them:

"I looked at that book Maester Aemon left me. The Jade Compendium. The pages that told of Azor Ahai. Lightbringer was his sword. Tempered with his wife's blood if Votar can be believed. Thereafter Lightbringer was never cold to the touch, but warm as Nissa Nissa had been warm. In battle the blade burned fiery hot. Once Azor Ahai fought a monster. When he thrust the sword through the belly of the beast, its blood began to boil. Smoke and steam poured from its mouth, its eyes melted and dribbled down its cheeks, and its body burst into flame."  

- ADWD, Jon III

There’s no guarantee that if a new Lightbringer emerges, it will kill just the same way, however.

Blood, Fire and Rubies

While the blood that is now present in Widow’s Wail and Oathkeeper represents the Stark blood that was spilled, I can’t help but wonder if there’s another meaning to the color change.

Consider this: the blades made from Ice have ripples, “like night and blood upon some steely shore“ and their hilts were set with rubies, because  “Garnets lack the fire.” (ASOS, Tyrion IV)

“Rubies,” Sansa said, lost. “What rubies?”

Arya gave her a look like she was so stupid.

“Rhaegar’s rubies. This is where King Robert killed him and won the crown.”

- AGOT, Sansa I

Blood... Fire... That sounds very Targaryen.

To further the parallel, the Targaryens had two Valyrian steel blades also: Dark Sister and Blackfyre.

I’m not sure how to interpret this.

It could be that Jon, who has both Stark and Targaryen blood, will find himself wielding one of the swords. He dreamed of wielding Ice, once.

When Jon had been Bran's age, he had dreamed of doing great deeds, as boys always did. The details of his feats changed with every dreaming, but quite often he imagined saving his father's life. Afterward Lord Eddard would declare that Jon had proved himself a true Stark, and place Ice in his hand. Even then he had known it was only a child's folly; no bastard could ever hope to wield a father's sword. Even the memory shamed him. What kind of man stole his own brother's birthright? I have no right to this, he thought, no more than to Ice.

(...)

He is not my father. The thought leapt unbidden to Jon's mind. Lord Eddard Stark is my father. I will not forget him, no matter how many swords they give me. Yet he could scarcely tell Lord Mormont that it was another man's sword he dreamt of …

- AGOT, Jon VII

Perhaps with garnets for the eyes . . ."    "Rubies," Lord Tywin said. "Garnets lack the fire."

- ASOS, Tyrion IV

At [Melisandre’s] throat, her ruby gleamed, a third eye glowing brighter than the others. Jon had seen Ghost's eyes blazing red the same way, when they caught the light just right.

- ADWD, Jon VI

Another possibility is that it hints to a Stark-Targaryen alliance. I know it has been theorized that House Stark will eventually unite with another House, mirroring Henry VII’s marriage to Elisabeth of York after the War of the Roses.

I’m open to other explanations.

Conclusion

Ice’s Valyrian steel changed noticeably since the beginning of the series. Lady and Eddard Stark’s death, both dealt by the sword in “A Game of Thrones” could have been the triggers for this change. Links to the forging of Lightbringer and to the prophecy of Azor Ahai Reborn suggest that Widow’s Wail and Oathkeeper will play a role in the Long Night.

The fact that both swords seem to have taken on colors close to the Targaryens ones, raises questions.

THE END

[missbemaeve]

THERE’S A JOKE HERE SOMEWHERE AND IT’S ON ME - YSTLC

x. eerie atmosphere surrounding hawkins

i call, you’re not at home, you’re home but you’re not alone  ( i know there’s something going on ; frida )

saturday, november twelfth, nineteen eighty three

glancing out through the window where the sun had just disappeared behind the horizon, maeve let out a quiet groan. she wished she had never agreed to take an extra shift. pulling herself from the warm haven of the couch, she quickly made her way in to her room where she changed in to her waitress uniform before knotting the strings of the fraying white apron behind her waist. 

maeve tied her dingy, white keds tightly before double checking that she had her wallet and keys before saying her goodbyes as she left the standish home. hawkins, indiana seemed as though someone had pressed pause on the night– a bizarre silence and feeling of electricity hung in the evening air. as maeve locked the car door once she arrived at benny’s burgers, her eyes scanned the parking lot inhabited by only one other car. 

benny’s brother, robert, looked up from the muscle car magazine he’d been reading behind the counter as the bell on the top corner of the door jingled lightly; the usual line that his mouth was pressed in to turned up at the corners in to a small smile when he saw maeve. the older man had taken a liking to the feisty maeve and found her endearing– a word not typically used in descriptions of the teen. “hi, mr. hammond.” maeve placed her things beneath the register’s counter and counted her drawer quickly after the man muttered his greeting.

maeve slid her drawer back in to the register and looked for her small memo pad for orders before finding it wedged behind a toaster against the wall. she brushed crumbs from the thick, navy cardboard cover before pocketing it and plucking a pencil from a cracked mug on the counter. there was something so pleasant about the mundane routine of working in a diner. the mindless work was a welcome exchange for the time she spent with her brain in overdrive. “has it been this dead all night?”

“yep. it doesn’t look like it’s going to pick up anytime soon either, kid.” his low voice filled the space more than the staticky radio from the backroom. 

“i can’t imagine people have actually found something else to do on a saturday night here.” maeve rolled her eyes, despite liking hawkins, she knew the residents had nothing better to do on a saturday evening. the theater was only showing two films, both of which had been out for nearly a month. there were few restaurants and even fewer bars. the suspicion of the strange night was slowly confirmed as she mulled it over in her mind. ‘there’s nothing strange going on; hawkins is always a bore.’ maeve thought to herself before she grabbed a creased copy of the newspaper and flipped the flimsy pages to the crossword puzzle.

for nearly an hour, the two sat in silence, looking at their respective literature mindlessly, until robert spoke once more. “would you mind closing up tonight? we’ve been dead for ‘bout two hours and i don’t think anybody else is gonna come. i told morgan that i would try and read her a bedtime story tonight.” 

maeve had a soft-spot for robert’s daughters. after benny had died, robert took over benny’s burgers without question but he lived nearly an hour away with his family until they could move to hawkins when his daughters finished their school year. “no, of course. tell laura and the girls that i said hello.” 

he smiled gratefully before going back to the backroom to retrieve his things. “you know where the keys are to lock up, feel free to make yourself some dinner, and don’t give any of the nonexistent customers food poisoning.”

“you know, i resent that and you may be missing a couple of pints of ice cream when you come in tomorrow– just in repayment for that comment!” she called after him as he exited while chuckling quietly. 

maeve chewed on her bottom lip, deep in thought. she felt her pulse quicken– being alone in the dark and in a town where she knew bad things happened didn’t make her feel at all at ease. with every creak as the building settled and every time static came through the speakers, maeve responded with a flinch. 

in an attempt to find something more comforting, she flipped the old television in the backroom to a channel that was showing a film she’d seen before. the familiar dialogue and music lessened her anxiety– her relief was interrupted as her stomach made a loud growling noise. in the commotion of the day, maeve had forgotten to eat. 

she dropped a handful of french fries in to the fryer. the oil came to life, spattering and bubbling lowly as the potatoes slowly cooked. humming along to the music from the film, maeve made herself a grilled cheese sandwich. less than ten minutes later, she grabbed one of the plastic red bottles and squirted ketchup haphazardly over her fries before picking up her half-completed crossword puzzle and walking to the backroom and sitting behind the desk. if the bell rang, she’d know a customer had entered and would only be behind the corner, she reasoned as she balanced a glass of soda in her less full hand. 

eating her food slowly, maeve took stock of the events that had transpired. in the past forty-eight hours of her life, more interpersonal interaction had taken place than in the three years previous. she’d found herself with a family that truly cared, multiple friends, and… ‘a boyfriend?‘ it felt strange to think those words to herself. james knew only the surface of the abyss that was her past. would he want anything to do with her if he knew about her real parents? about where she’d come from? would she keep it from him?

her train of thought was interrupted as she heard the glass door swing open violently and the bell clang, alerting her that someone had entered the diner quite frantically. maeve felt her heart begin to pound against her sternum– it could have been anyone. someone from the lab could have known she was here alone, her biological parents, an axe murderer– every possibility ran through her mind. abandoning her food, maeve found a heavy-bottomed iron skillet and kept low to the ground. she crept slowly and silently until she was behind the countertop, she could her someone pacing only feet away as the wet rubber soles of their shoes squeaked against the dry, aging linoleum. 

maeve steadied herself, taking a deep breath before preparing herself to jump and take on whoever was inside the building with her. ‘one….two…three!’ with a short battle cry, maeve popped up from behind the counter, prepared to defend herself. she held the heavy skillet, ready to swing and run before she stopped as the stranger let out a short yelp and held up both hands in surrender. “andie!?” maeve sat down the skillet quickly before coming around to andie’s side.

“maeve!” andie peterson stood in front of maeve, her denim jacket damp and her mascara smudged across her face. her chest rose and fell quickly as she tried to catch her breath. maeve couldn’t fathom what had gotten her to this point. “i saw your car, i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you and i didn’t know where else to go–” maeve cut the babbling, distraught girl off with a tight hug. 

“no, it’s okay.” she held the blonde at arm’s length and examined her. “i don’t know what’s going on but you need ice cream.” maeve walked to the door and flipped the sign to closed before grabbing andie by the hand and pulling her back in to the kitchen. “you scared the hell out of me.” she sat andie down in the second chair in the backroom and wandered toward the walk-in freezer. maeve plucked two pints of ice cream, pistachio and strawberry, from the shelf and two spoons from the clean dishes stack before coming back to sit with her distraught friend.

“what the hell happened, andie?” tossing the lid of the dessert on to the table in front of her, maeve dug in to the swirly, pink confection that was flecked with the red pieces of the fruit. 

“i went to see kyle.” andie spoke, exasperated with herself as she shoved a spoonful of the pistachio ice cream in to her mouth. “i know– you told me it was a bad idea but i had to know!” she complained with her mouth full. “and you were right. he is an awful,” she paused, searching for the right word before settling, “jerk.” andie looked down at the spoon, scraping the green dessert in to frozen curls. it was as if maeve could see andie let down one of her walls so she could finally be vulnerable. “i thought that maybe i meant something to him but he was so condescending and i think it was just…all in my head.” she finished lamely.

“what an ashole.” maeve reached across and squeezed andie’s hand in solidarity. “do you want me to go get him back? you know i’m not above that.” 

“oh, that’s another thing…” she trailed off before putting another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, “i slapped him. and now i am probably going to jail for assault and i’ll never graduate and get in to princeton and i’ll end up working at the tastee-freez for the rest of my life.” she lamented, continuing to eat the ice cream. 

“andie peterson, you little rebel!” maeve’s eyes lit up. “first of all, i’m proud of you for standing up for yourself because, frankly, he deserved to finally get smacked by someone and he is lucky it wasn’t me. second, his pride won’t let him tell anyone that he got hit by anyone, let alone a girl– the sexist creep– so i promise you will not go to jail. but why did you leave your car with him? you’re going to have to go back to his house at some point now.”

andie’s eyes widened, her stress eating not subsiding. “well, actually,” she looked everywhere aside from at maeve’s face, “that is at brett’s house.”

“oh my god, you told him that you turned him in?” maeve whispered urgently as if she feared someone in the completely empty restaurant would hear them.

“not exactly. i was kind of on a roll after the whole kyle debacle so i was going to! and then i was at his door and we were talking and we…just ended up kissing.”

“andrea peterson!” maeve’s jaw dropped, her spoon hitting the floor with a loud clang. “you made out with brett? brett li?! holy shit!” 

“i didn’t mean to! it just happened!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide as she shrugged her denim clad shoulders.

“well?” maeve pushed, her eyes wide.

“and i liked it but i didn’t know what to do so i ran here.” andie finally made eye contact with maeve whose face broke in to an exasperated grin.

“you ran a mile and a half in the rain because a boy kissed you and you were afraid? dammit, andie.” maeve rolled her eyes, laughing lightly before falling silent for a moment. “so, i take it that you didn’t tell him about turning him in?”

“i will, i just need to figure out how.” andie exhaled, her head falling back, her ponytail brushing against the wall. “because it was a really good kiss and i’d like to do it again…”

“you had your first kiss less than a week ago and now you’re a wanton woman, andie peterson!” maeve poked fun at her best friend before grabbing a new spoon from the kitchen. 

the two girls spent the next hour eating and talking about andie’s new endeavors in to the world of potential relationships before she stopped in the middle of her sentence, “wait– i forgot to even ask. what the heck happened earlier at the police station? are you okay? mae, i’m sorry. i was just caught up in all of my stuff and forgot to ask!”

it was now maeve’s turn to avoid eye contact. “yeah, so, everything is…good now, to say the least.” a small smile appeared on her face as she looked down at her hands.

“what is that supposed to mean? i’m you’re best friend! you’re like somewhat legally obligated to tell me everything!” andie pushed, poking maeve in the arm.

“so, i was at the movies with alice and brendan, then that whole thing with steve and nancy and jonathan happened– i’m sure you heard about that– and james showed up with the other cops and decided he wanted to ask me some questions and then he got aggravated that i wasn’t answering and he said he needed to bring me in to the police station so he did and we ended up talking through everything. he was…strangely accepting of it all.” maeve shook her head, “it was really surprising, you know? i guess it’s just nice to know that the two people who mean the most to me are okay with what i can do.” 

now it was andie’s turn to reach out and squeeze maeve’s hand, a half-smile across her face as she paused. “so, what are you two now?”

“he’s kind of my boyfriend, i think.” maeve felt her face turn a shade of pink, still smiling. she wasn’t used to saying that– she was unsure if she ever would be.

“you deserve this, maeve. you deserve to be happy! i can’t wait to finally actually meet him.” andie paused, looking at the girl who was only a stranger a week ago, still a small smile on her face, “what are you thinking?”

“that i’m just really lucky.” andie reached across, hugging maeve tightly. laughing, maeve squeezed the blonde gently. 

their quiet reunion was broken by the familiar bell from the door jingling once more. andie and maeve’s eyes went wide as they separated. maeve mimed zipping her lips and pointed to the ground. andie had no clue that there was anything to fear in hawkins but her trust in maeve overruled that knowledge. a look of worry had taken residence on andie’s face, her blonde brows drawn together in concern. ‘it’s okay.’ maeve mouthed, reassuringly, before she silently crept to the back counter and grabbed the large knife she had used earlier to cut food while staying low to the ground. andie followed closely behind, maeve handed her the large skillet she had used earlier when andie had arrived. maeve nodded to the front of the restaurant, andie followed. after a moment, they were just behind the front counter. andie clutched the pan close to her chest, nervously following maeve’s lead. maeve grasped the knife, prepared to ward off whatever threat had taken residence in the restaurant.

staying silent, maeve listened intently and heard heavy-bottomed boots crossing from the floor toward one of the booths. the sound as the person walked sounded familiar but she was unable to place it to any situation that came to mind. andie raised an eyebrow, making eye contact with maeve who shrugged, distressed. she held up three manicured fingers, andie nodded before maeve mouthed a countdown. on the third beat, the two girls popped up from behind the counter, a shriek breaking through andie’s lips.

maeve felt the tension leave her body as she dropped the knife, it fell to the floor with a muffled clatter. “james houseman! you scared us!” maeve chastised, putting a hand over her pounding heart, the other on her hip. 

james’ hand had moved to his gun as the girls surprised him, “shit, sorry, mae.” he held his hands up. “i got a call that the lights were on here and there were cars but no one inside. someone must have driven by. i just wanted to make sure you were okay.” he half-smiled, shrugging as he put his hands in his jacket pockets. 

andie set the heavy pan down, relieved of the weight. andie’s eyes moved back and forth between the couple, she pressed her lips together to suppress a smile. maeve looked over and rolled her eyes, smiling all the while. “andie, this is james. james, andie peterson. she’s my best friend.” james walked over to the counter to shake her hand, chuckling at the circumstance. 

“it’s nice to meet you finally!” andie held eye contact and gripped his hand– trying to show dominance in a strong handshake. 

he took pause after hearing her speak, “you were the one on the phone last night.” it wasn’t a question, he laughed. “nice to meet you too.” he sat at one of the stools in front of the counter. 

“guilty as charged!” andie grinned. moving to sit on the counter. “it’s nice to see that your black eye is going away.”

maeve internally chastised herself for being flustered like a young schoolgirl. bringing herself back to reality, she picked up the knife and pan to carry back to the kitchen. “so, the people of hawkins have nothing better to do than call the cops about a diner with the lights on?”

“nothing ever happens in this town. they’ve got to get their kicks somewhere.” james shrugged, pulling out his radio to mumble the all clear. 

maeve was glad her face was hidden from the two, a look of guilt overtaking her expression. she’d move heaven and hell to make sure no harm from anything that plagued hawkins ever came to them. she rested her hands on the counter and took a breath to regain her composure before returning to the two who had begun a conversation over something that hadn’t even registered in her mind. maeve sat on the counter in front of james, her legs crossed, silently and listening to the two bond. she just enjoyed being in their company; she felt safe with them. 

andie’s green eyes finally caught on the clock after talking for a short while. “i need to get home. i’m totally exhausted.”

“do you want me to drive you home?” james offered. maeve looked at him, completely enamored with him and his kindness.

“no, thank you though. it’s alright, i’ll call my mom and have her come pick me up.” andie hopped off the counter and went to the back room that they had abandoned once james had arrived. her exit left the couple alone for the first time since he took her home earlier in the day.

“hey.” maeve bit her lower lip, trying not to smile too widely at him.

“hi.” he murmured back. james pushed her hair behind her ear before kissing her chastely.

“hey.” she spoke, dumbstruck.

“you said that already.” he chuckled, taking her hand in his own. 

“sorry, i’m not great at this whole relationship thing so just bear with me.” she laughed, placing his hand palm-up on her leg so she could trace the lines of his palm.

“we’ll learn together.” maeve’s silence coaxed him on. “you alright? i’m sorry that i scared you earlier.”

“no, it’s not that…” she trailed off, “i just–” maeve was cut off by andie re-entering the dining space. 

“my mom is gonna be here in like five minutes. you know when you’re so tired, you feel like your bed is calling you? it’s how i feel right now!” andie stifled a yawn. her day of boy drama and friend issues had emptied her tank and she couldn’t wait to fall in to the plush white paradise of her bed. 

“definitely.” maeve grinned, still holding james’ hand. the three made small talk until their conversation was interrupted by a short blast of a car horn. maeve hopped off the counter, landing lightly and silently on the balls of her feet. she walked outside with andie before hugging her tightly. “i’ll call you tomorrow, okay? and, if my mom calls and asks, i’m staying with you tonight.”

“it’s nice to see you like this, maeve. happy, i mean.” andie spoke as they hugged. “he seems really in to you. you’re smitten!” teasingly, she smiled and pulled away, “have fun! but not too much. don’t do anything that i wouldn’t do!” andie instructed while walking backwards toward her mother’s car.

maeve rolled her eyes in good nature, “okay, mom.” she leaned down and waved at andie’s mother who, smiling kindly, waved back. “drive safe!”

maeve walked back in to restaurant where james had taken to cleaning up the kitchen. “deputy, i don’t think this is in your job description.” she smiled, before making certain that the worn sign on the door was flipped to closed and locking it so no patrons could come in. she wandered to the back room to turn on the radio back on while they finished.

“maybe not, but i’m off in an hour and i want to spend time with my girlfriend.” he tossed a dishtowel over his shoulder as he finished washing the dishes that the two girls had dirtied between the food and ice cream. maeve swept the coffee-stained floors and wiped down the counters and tables with a frayed cloth. they’d mostly finished all of the things she needed to do before locking up for the night; it was an understatement to say that she was excited for their actual second date, even if it was just going to be talking and watching a movie. she occasionally snuck glances at him as they worked in a comfortable silence. maeve turned off most of the lights aside from the neon signs on the windows that colorfully illuminated the restaurant. 

humming, maeve cleaned up anything she came across as she worked her way back toward the kitchen. as she moved to cross the room, she felt james’ hands on her hips. he’d come out from the kitchen after finishing the dishes and putting things away quickly. he spun her to face him, taking one of her hands in his and placing the other on his opposite shoulder. as they came face to face, he grinned down at her. 

she let out a laugh, following his lead and dancing slowly to the staticky sounds of a piano and synth-laden song by journey. she rested her head on james’ chest as he held her close. the two swayed back and forth. ‘this feels right.’ maeve felt butterflies in her stomach and chest. coming to hawkins had been simultaneously the worst and best thing to happen to her in her life. 

a sharp noise came from the radio on james’ belt. his forehead came to rest against her own as they laughed quietly. “every time.” he shook his head before taking a step back and answering it. maeve could barely comprehend the voice on the other end but james did so with ease. “disturbance call at the byers’.” he explained.

“do you think it’s joyce? i know things have been hard on her.” maeve frowned, concerned.

“no telling. you can come with me and then we’ll go back to my place?” he suggested. maeve nodded before unplugging the neon lights and then the radio, stopping the song in its tracks. grabbing her bag and ensuring everything was turned off, maeve took james’ hand and the keys and locked the restaurant behind them as they walked in to the inky-black night.

[spiderfan22]

DAY TWO HUNDRED AND SEVEN - 1/30/17

“DUMPLINGS (MORE, MORE MORE)” by DJS

I think these two are amping up to kill each other.

Also, I’m not including the whole play this time, just the new pages, because that was starting to get fucking annoying. Check back for previous posts for the rest of the story.

Guest trails off, that sudden silly-happy spirit gone as quickly as it came. Lost again. Beat. Then quietly:

         GUEST

Hey, do you wanna hear a story? Or not even a story but like more of an anecdote? Or not even an anecdote but just something I noticed about me recently? It was when I was getting my hair cut. I go to one of those cheapy-y places so generic I can’t even remember the name of it. Great Clips…? Smart Cuts…? I don’t know, not important. I just noticed that I am the worst at hair stylist chit-chat. Like they try to engage me in, you know, very general-type topics. BROAD: we’re talking local sports, TV shows, friendly, nothing too personal or that would force you to “out” yourself on any particular controversial issues. Like they’re not hitting me with where I stand on a woman’s right to choose.  I’m in favor obviously but - I mean a woman’s body is her own… thing.  But I’m getting off topic.  The point is the normal chit-chat thing people do so effortlessly? Small-talk, right, you would call it?  I can’t. I can’t.  I am just incapable for whatever reason of sustaining for any length of time, you know, beyond the perfunctory responses of, just basic like “Good.” “Yeah.” “Sure.”

A for instance or example?

One time I’m sitting there, in the chair, the barber’s, and I’m wearing a Star Wars t-shirt. Pretty much my usual get-up, Star Wars or something superhero related…

 (Important Note: however Guest is costumed, it must be explicit in how they are styled that they would never, under any circumstances, wear Star Wars or other geek related apparel. They are just not that person. To put it more bluntly, Guest is lying right now.)

 GUEST

…I’m kind of a geek that way. Or just really, really set in my ways. Like I want to be able to reach into my drawer in the morning and grab a shirt and not have to worry about it, like I’ll look down and I won’t even know what I put on but it’s okay ‘cause it’s  “Hey, cool, Spider-Man.”

 Anyways, I’m wearing a Star Wars shirt. And I sit down and the first thing-

 Well, I mean let’s just take a moment to acknowledge that it can’t be easy for the stylist either. I mean I’m sure when they go to beauty school or whatever they’re not given lengthy courses on social discourse. But a big part of their job is to be this talkative, you know, outgoing, to engage the customer, to build a rapport in that thirty minutes or an hour not much time, so that 1) the customer feels safe, you know, reasonably sure this total stranger with a sharp object isn’t going to just stab them in the eye, or slit their throat Sweeney Todd style, but is also a professional who’s gonna make them look good. And secondly, the haircut industry being a gratuity-inclusive system, they want you to like them because they make more if you like them, the idea being here that a lot of time when you get a haircut, you’re pretty much just looking for the same thing you got last time, so what you’re really judging them on is personality. How were they personally with you.  I mean am I wrong? I don’t think so, but speak up now or forever hold your peace.

 No but it’s, I guess what I’m trying to say is it takes two to tango. And the conversation, if that other person’s not giving, usually the customer… oh, it’s death. It is death to sit through. For both parties. Because there’s that forced feel to everything, like you’re not in Great Clips anymore but the dentist, ‘cause it’s like pulling teeth. Ugh!

 But anyway, back to my story. So I was sitting there, or I was sitting down, they’d just called my name. And the stylist – and isn’t it that they always tell you their names and you even shake hands but I can never remember – the stylist says, she notices my shirt and says, “Oh did you see that new Star Wars movie?” A completely non-loaded, just chit-chatty question. And my response is, I go “Yeah…” and sort of trail off, “Yeah, yeah…” totally non-committal. So then she asks if I liked it, a natural follow-up, and I just say, “Yeah, it was okay.” Again, the most wishy-washy bullshit response. I don’t elaborate, I don’t ask if she’s seen it, I don’t ask if she’s more of Star Wars person or Star Trek, or a million other lines of inquiry I could have gone down, I don’t say anything, I don’t engage her back, I just leave her there hanging, this perfectly nice, just-doing-her-job, just trying to get through her shift, you know, vary the days- and I always tip well, I always tip like five bucks, it’s not that it’s just- I feel like I’m not holding up my end of the bargain here. Y’know?

 And the reasons for that are… well, they’re… they probably just come down to me being so introverted. Like that’s just my wiring, that’s just how I’m built. And it’s sucky, it… yeah. Kind of debilitating.

    (Pause. Guest makes sad trombone sound:)

Wah-wah.

    (Pause. Then as Dan re-enters)

But it’s not like I can just stop getting my hair cut either.

 Dan enters with a large mixing bowl covered by saran wrap.

 DAN

    (overhearing)

What about a haircut?

He sets the bowl on the table.

           GUEST

Oh, nothing. Just some sad pathetic story I was telling them.

           DAN

It wasn’t boring was it?

 GUEST

    (considers that)

I don’t think so. Introspective, sort of rambling…

    (to audience)

I don’t know, what did you all think? Did you think my story was boring? Or maybe it held some special significance for you, was RELATABLE even…?

           DAN

A haircut – how is that relatable?

           GUEST

Well, we all get haircuts don’t we?

           DAN

Most people, yeah…

           GUEST

Well, see. There you go. There you are.

           DAN

    (mocking, lightly)

There I am.

           Dan exits again.

           GUEST

Where are you going now?

           DAN

    (off)

Just a few more things. I only have two hands.

           GUEST

I said I would help.

           DAN

    (off)

I know.

    (returning)

I know.

 Dan carries on a plate with two spoons, two forks, and a thick stack of pre-moistened dumpling wrappers. Everything goes on the table.

 GUEST

Smells good.

           DAN

That’s the filling, yeah.

           GUEST

What’s in it?

           DAN

Mushrooms and cabbage.

           GUEST

MMMMM. All chopped up together?

           DAN

Yeah/

           GUEST

Cooked or?

           DAN

Yeah, sauteed.

           GUEST

Can I try it?

           DAN

…Sure.

           GUEST

Is that ok?

           DAN

Yeah go ahead.

 Guest removes the saran wrap from the bowl and, using one of the forks, brings a mouthful of filling from to their lips and blows on it.

 DAN

It’s not hot.

           GUEST

Oh.

    (Guest tries the filling. Nodding)

Mmmm. Oh. Yeaaaah.

           DAN

Good?

           GUEST

Yeah, really. I can’t wait to try it in the actual dumplings.

           DAN

Then let’s get started.

 Dan sits down and starts to lay out the materials. Guest joins them at the table.

 GUEST

You seem more in a chipper mood than when we last saw you.

           DAN

Well, I took some time backstage to think about things.

           GUEST

Like what?

           DAN

Just my general outlook on our relationship. The dynamic we share.

           GUEST

And what conclusion did you come to about that?

           DAN

That you’re not really my antagonist in this thing.

           GUEST

How profound.

           DAN

And even when you make comments like that, “How profound”, which could read like you’re trying to get at me, needle me into blowing up again, this big reaction, you’re IN ACTUALITY doing me a favor.

           GUEST

A favor.

           DAN

Yes.

           GUEST

What kind?

           DAN

Well, you’re supposed to be like that little voice inside my head, right? You know the one: that I argue with, that’s always criticizing me, making me feel bad, guilty, or just shitty; that overanalyzes every interaction, stretching moments, obsessing over the minutest; that worries me, panics me, berates me, frustrates me, makes me feel like the most disgusting human being for even thinking that, scares me into a corner, then fucks with me taunting me from the dark.

           Beat.

           GUEST

And that’s who I am?

           DAN

Well yeah, pretty much. You’re an instigator, right? A rabble rouser; a provocateur.

           GUEST

Don’t get foreign with me.

    (pause)

So if I’m not the antagonist – which, let’s be honest, your description of me doesn’t entirely jive with if I’m always this critical apparition, I don’t know if that’s the word you’d use but – this kind of identity in your life, causing you stress and, just creating all sorts of turmoil for you. So if I’m not that, DESPITE what you claim, what does that not make you: the hero?

           DAN

Exactly. I think we’re really blurring the lines here into a grey area of, of thinking about character.

           GUEST

Awesome, ‘cause everyone loves the color grey so much. Grey really pops.

           DAN

I love you.

           GUEST

Oh shut the fuck up, are you high?        

            DAN

What??

           GUEST

No seriously, are you on something? Right now?

           DAN

…no.

           GUEST

You hesitated.

           DAN

Only a beat. And it was because your accusation is totally ridiculous-

           GUEST

Why?

           DAN

Because I’M NOT.

           GUEST

The lady doth protest too much I think.

           DAN

The lady doth protest as much as it takes when she’s TELLING the TRUTH.

           GUEST

Your mood.

           DAN

What about / it?

           GUEST

Just like you flipped a switch. And people don’t have swings like that all willy-nilly, apropos of nothing.

           DAN

What about bipolars?

           GUEST

We’re not TALKING about people who spend half their year living in the ARCTIC CIRCLE.

Now something kicked you in the ass mood-wise, and if you think I’m just going to let you get away / with it again-

           DAN

Get away with what? / With what again?

           GUEST

With turning this into another hospital-hostility situation, it’s NOT gonna happen. NO LIES-

           DAN

But I didn’t, I… there was nothing-

           GUEST

BullSHIT, Dan. Now what is it? You don’t seem drunk.

           DAN

I’m not.

           GUEST

    (finding the bottle they brought onstage)

And neither was I for that matter. That was merely a clever acting ruse for yours and the audience’s amusement.

           DAN

Don’t you mean a-RUSE-ment?

 Dan smiles gleefully. Guest starts to crack, and it takes all of their willpower to keep them from smiling too.

 GUEST

You will not – break me – with bad puns.

           DAN

But they’re your weakness.

           GUEST

No, they’re YOURS.

           DAN

Touche.

           GUEST

    (pause)

The fact you just said “touche” like that, with that little smirk on your face, totally un-ironical, means you’re DEFINITELY on something. You are UP.

           DAN

Better than down.

           GUEST

Stop turning everything around, that’s just easy! Stop quipping!

           DAN

    (channeling Devo)

When a problem comes alone, you must quip it!

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo

Quip it good!

           GUEST

I will fucking hit you.

Plus I think they already made that joke in one of the Austin Powers movies, so kudos for the retread.

           DAN

Well, it’s a popular song.

           GUEST

You can’t stop.

           DAN

I can, I’m just choosing not to. The shoe’s on the other foot now and if you can’t take the heat maybe you shouldn’t have chosen to vacation on the sun.

           GUEST

You’re insufferable. You INVITED me here-

           DAN

Oh sorry, am I not being a good host? Let me get your coat…

 Dan moves to remove Guest’s non-existent jacket. It almost gets physical as Guest shakes him off.

They stare at each other for a beat, Dan grinning, Guest more nervous and worried than anything.

To be continued...