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athingthatwantsvirginia · 4 years

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Eardrum Torture

PART THIRTEEN OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: mentions of a broken arm, lots of unintentional angst but here we are it just happened, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: Application season takes its toll on Ella.

Four days. She had four days left until the applications were due, and she was about ready to rip out her hair. A Wednesday evening brought with it October wind and thick clouds. Though she had the night off, she sat wringing her hands over a scattered pile of papers at a corner table in the diner. It had been danish day, Luke rushing around to accommodate the breakfast and afternoon crowds, and the restaurant was equally packed at dinner. Ella raked her hands through her messy hair, tying it up in a ponytail and blowing loose strands from her eyes. Her nails were bitten down and she had dark circles under her eyes. The only solace was her knowing the torture would soon end. Envelopes were addressed, the stamps were bought, the essays were written, but she couldn’t manage to feel as though the applications were finished.

In all honesty, she knew there was no real reason for all the nerves. It wasn’t as though any of the colleges she was applying to were her dream schools. Financial aid could do some help, but it was simply fruitless to spend application fees on Berkley when she knew she would never be able to go anyway. Instead, the state schools and community colleges which made up her list were modest and affordable. And her father and Fiona were glad to have her able to live at home. No one would have to pick up her chores, and they could save for the wedding.

And she couldn’t bring herself to be angry with them. Disappointment was there, but she knew it was simply realistic. They couldn’t pay for the schools, and they didn’t want her to be buried in debt for the rest of her life. She could appreciate that, especially when she was likely to end up with a degree in something she wasn’t particularly passionate about. What could one do with an art degree anyway? She would settle for something stable, in business or economics, instead of starving for her hopeless dreams. Blowing out a breath, she tried to wake herself up by widening her eyes as she picked up an essay about a significant person in her life to read over for the third time. She’d actually had to write it twice, considering how illegible her cursive was in the first draft.

Rapping his knuckles on the table, Jess sat down across from her with a smirk and a plate in his hand. “Sweepin’ those chimneys nonstop, huh?”

Ella rolled her eyes. “Bite me.”

“You’re gonna give yourself a headache,” he said, holding the plate with the turkey sandwich out before her. It was nearly closing, and she still hadn’t ordered any dinner. He took the liberty of making something for her. Lately, she’d been forgetting to eat altogether.

“Well, we all have to make sacrifices sometimes,” she muttered flatly.

“Look,” Jess sighed, “just take a break for a second, alright? I’ll read it for you if you want.”

She cleared her throat in annoyance, then finally tossed a glance his way. Before she could help it, her stomach growled at the sight of the sandwich. Classic turkey was her favorite. Jess smirked, but said nothing. Ella narrowed her eyes at him and stared him down for a moment, then finally relented. They did a quick exchange, Jess with her paper and Ella with the ceramic plate.

“Thank you,” she said tiredly.

A smug smile painted his face as he began reading the essay. “You’re welcome, Stevens.”

As she ate, he read, brows furrowed in concentration. His face was indecipherable, and her stomach rolled with anxiety at him looking over her work. The sandwich was gone almost instantly, and she hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Luke was making preparations for closing as the last few customers finished up their dinners. The last pot of coffee was empty, and the twinkling lights in the square illuminated the dim evening in a cozy whitish-yellow glow. She licked mayo from her thumb and wiped her mouth with a napkin, finished eating, just as Jess turned the paper over and set it back down on the table.

“So?” she asked, arms crossed over her t-shirt and an expectant look on her face.

Jess nodded. “It’s really good, Eleanor. I like it. Very descriptive. I can tell you’ve got a James Joyce obsession.”

She laughed in spite of herself. “Shut up, jackass.”

“But, really, I love it,” Jess said.

“Thank you,” she said humbly, averting her gaze with a shy blush still present.

“Did she really know June Carter Cash?” he asked.

A wide smile crossed Ella’s face. The essay, though monumentally stressful to finish, had been a joy to write. Instead of offering a more melancholy tale about her mother, she’d chosen her grandmother. Whose necklace she wore, who she had a framed photo of on her desk, and who taught her how to persevere. Though she had died before Ella was ten, the woman was still so present in her memory. Her mother had been a tender rose, but her grandmother had been a giant sunflower, standing tall. A force of nature.

“Yeah. They sang at the same club a couple times. My grandma’s stories could give Miss Patty’s a run for their money.”

“High standards to meet.”

“That they are,” she said fondly, taking the essay and straightening a stack of papers in front of her. Then, she looked back up at him with a teasing eye. In spite of herself, she picked up the essay and began skimming it again. “Aren’t you on the clock? Slacking off, are we, Mariano?”

He scoffed. “Luke let me off early, Caesar’s helping close. Time off for good behavior.”

“Not likely,” she teased, snorting a laugh, then brought her fist to cover her mouth as a yawn overtook her.

Jess felt a pang of sympathy, watching her regain her composure and blink back a watery shine from her reddish eyes. She looked positively exhausted, and he hadn’t seen her without a pencil or an essay in her hand in what felt like forever. Even when she was behind the counter at the diner; Luke was being especially lenient for application season.

“You wanna hang out upstairs? I think there’s some Alfred Hitchcock on tonight.”

She only raised an eyebrow, gesturing down to her applications and other schoolwork.

“How many days do you have left?”

“Four.”

“And you have them all finished?”

“More or less.”

“And you can’t take a break from rereading to hang out with your boyfriend for one night?”

Ella paused for a moment, and a teasing smirk crossed her face. “Boyfriend?”

He cleared his throat and a blush crept up his neck, but he maintained the confident facade, smirking back. “Oh, am I not your boyfriend?”

She shrugged. “I guess. Just didn’t know you’d fully committed to the label.”

“Oh, I’m committed.”

“Oh. Okay,” she smiled lightly, the dimple showing in her freckled cheek. “And I’m your girlfriend?”

“I figured. Was I wrong?”

“No. No, you weren’t.”

“Good,” he said shortly, and felt a little squirmy under her teasing gaze. “Now, are we gonna go watch some ‘50s murders or not?”

Ella snorted a laugh at his embarrassment. She looked down at the stack of work doubtfully, then sighed. It was too tempting to resist. Then, she stood up and began clearing up her things.

. . .

Mid-way through Psycho, Jess noticed Ella’s continuous yawning and the way she struggled to keep her hazel gaze on the grayish screen. He could hear Luke closing up down in the diner, and Caesar’s music droning from the radio. But it was cozy, the October night closing in and bringing silence to the chilly town streets. There was an old quilt spread out over their laps, their hands laced together. She cleared her throat and straightened up slightly, trying to look more awake as the onscreen hunt for Marion Crane intensified. Jess sighed and took his hand from hers. Putting an arm around her, he brought her head to his shoulder and she leaned into him tiredly.

“Oh, I see, you’re doing that thing where you put your arm around me, and then you sneeze and try to grab-”

“Am not,” Jess interjected, laughing. “I should’ve never let you in on my moves.”

Ella giggled. “Right, your move.”

“Maybe I invented it. You could never be sure.”

She scoffed, smiling, and shifted to get more comfortable. He pressed a kiss to her hair and leaned back into the old couch. Even still, he looked down at her bitten nails and frowned.

“You’re gonna get into those schools, y’know,” he said softly.

Ella sighed. “Yeah, I guess there’s a good chance. I don’t want to count on anything.”

“Stevens, you have a four-point-oh. They’re lucky you’re even considering them.”

“And I’m lucky they’re cheap.”

Jess ran a hand over his mouth, nodding. “I bet you could still get a scholarship to Berkeley somehow. Or some school in some other city. I mean, you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do.”

Sleepily, she nodded. “I know, Jess. But I’ll get to live in a city someday. I’ve lived in that house for seventeen years. I can manage a couple more.”

“You could still apply, though. If you wanted,” he said.

Again, she sighed. “Really, Jess, I’m okay not applying to Berkley. I knew I’d never be able to go, it was just some stupid dream I had when Lane and Rory and I were kids and thinking about which colleges we would end up at.”

“And what rebellious kids you were,” he smirked.

Ella nudged him with an elbow. “Whatever. Southern Connecticut State is good enough for now. I’ll get some bullshit degree and a decent job, so I can have money and time to really work on my art. Someday.”

Jess hummed in acknowledgement.

“Besides, I don’t wanna leave Adam alone. My dad may be getting better, but it’s not gonna be perfect there overnight,” she explained, ending with a yawn again, behind her hand.

At that, Jess dropped the subject. He knew she needed sleep, and bringing her little brother into it would lead to a whole other conversation. Besides, it wasn’t his place to say what she should do with her life, no matter how hard it was to watch her settle, like she’d already had to do so many times.

“Okay,” he said quietly, running a hand up and down her arm.

Then, after a pause, her husky voice piped up again: “And next year you’re just gonna keep working here? And Walmart?”

“I suppose.”

“You know you’re gonna have to tell Luke about that at some point, right?”

“Well, I’m holding out as long as I can.”

She snorted a laugh. “Good luck with that.”

“Hey, you’re still sworn to secrecy,” he warned playfully.

“Yes. Cross my heart, remember?” she asked, and he nodded. Looking up to see his face in the low light, she pursed her lips. “What would you do, Jess? If you weren’t Walmart’s best employee. If you could do anything you wanted?”

There was a long silence as he thought, and she almost figured he hadn’t heard her. But then, he cast his eyes down, the movie momentarily forgotten.

“I don’t know. Maybe...write something.”

“Something?”

“Yeah. A novel. Short stories. Something. Or find some job where I could just read all day. Either one would work.”

A smile crossed her lips, turning the idea over and over in her mind. “Hm. I could see it. ‘A novel by Jess Mariano.’”

He only shrugged.

“No, really, Jess, that’d be awesome. You should do it,” she said, brightening, sitting up a little and gaining passion as she spoke, gesturing with her nail-bitten hands.

He scoffed, brows furrowing. “On what? That brand new computer I own?”

She rolled her eyes, then lowered her head back down to his shoulder. “I don’t know. You’re too smart for your own good, Mariano. I’m sure you could find a way. I just think it’d be great. If I’m owning my narrative, you have to own yours.”

Shaking his head at both her stubbornness and the memory of her spontaneous trip to New York, he kissed the crown of her head again. “Maybe.”

“Okay, chatty Kathy,” she said, scoffing at his nonchalance.

Within minutes, she had fallen asleep on his shoulder, leaving Jess to watch the reveal of Norman Bates’s mother and think on his incredibly ambiguous future.

. . .

Sunday afternoon customers flooded the diner. For once, Jess had broken a sweat serving them, a towel flung over his shoulder and an apron around his hips. Luke barked out directives as Caesar kept the grill sizzling, pancakes and bacon and patty melts, even as the afternoon crept in. Trudging around, Jess’s boots were heavy on his feet. Ella had the day off, and she hadn’t made an appearance. Usually, he would take breaks to flirt with her, trade her a book or two, as she poured over her homework. Instead, a random, loud family occupied her corner.

Eventually, he saw her blonde figure rushing down past the front window. Her cheeks were flushed scarlet as she came inside, her bag heavy on her shoulder. Luke only nodded and grunted at her, and she responded with an almost identical greeting. It became clearer to Jess every day why Luke and Ella had such a benevolent boss-employee dynamic. He held the steaming coffee pot in his hand as he came over to her. She hung the heavy shoulder bag and tattered peacoat by the door.

“Hey, your usual table isn’t open but if you wanna wait at the counter-”

“Can I borrow some angry music?” she interjected, a crease between her brows.

“What?”

She huffed and spoke with her hands. “I wanted to listen to some angry music but I only have sad shit, and I wanted to borrow some from Lane, but she wasn’t at her house, so I came over here because you have all that punk upstairs.”

“Um...yeah,” he said, throwing a glance back at the staircase. “It’s kinda swamped here but if you wanna go use the boombox upstairs?”

“Yeah, okay, thanks,” she nodded, breathless from her rant. Ella gave him a quick peck and, in a moment, was bounding up the stairs.

He stepped back slightly in surprise, eyes lingering on the checkered curtain she had disappeared behind. On a normal day, she would never kiss him on the lips in the middle of the busy diner. But on a normal day, her eyes weren’t so stormy.

. . .

Finally, mercifully, Luke let Jess take a thirty-minute break. The Distillers were turned up to head-splitting level as he entered the apartment, though they could only barely hear it downstairs under the customers’ chatter. Ella sat with one leg crossed over the other at the kitchen table, her sketchbook in front of her. She shaded a drawing furiously, not looking up as he came in. Sighing slightly, brows furrowed, he went over and turned the volume down halfway. Still, Ella gave no response. Crossing his arms over his chest, he came over beside her to regard the drawing.

Jess scoffed as he glanced down at the page. The dark lines and shading clouded the drawing of a screaming woman. Wilting flowers surrounding the face, and there was fire drawn in the figure’s pupils.

“Jesus. You draw some scary shit when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset,” she said shortly, not meeting his gaze.

“Y’know there’s a reason you’re an artist not an actress, right?” he drawled.

Ella rolled her eyes, stuffing her sketchbook into her bag and gathering herself up. Blowing out a long breath, she made to brush past him. “I’ll call you later.”

“Hey, where’s the fire?” he asked, his voice earnest as he placed a hand on her arm to stop her. “What’s the matter, Stevens?”

“Nothing.”

“Really? Then what’s with the eardrum torture?”

Swallowing dryly, she scowled at him but said nothing.

“C’mon, what’s the problem?”

Sighing again through her nose, she shrugged off his hand. “Just back off, Jess, for fuck’s sake.”

Without another word, she stormed down the stairs and left him confused. He stood with his eyes dark, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, the bass vibrations of the music thudding in his chest.

. . .

A dusky, golden October evening fell on Stars Hollow. Jess debated just staying in after his shift ended, brooding over the Bronte book Ella had loaned him, eventually falling asleep with furious thoughts cycling through his mind. Instead, he donned his leather jacket and turned down the Gilmores’ street. The gravel crunched under his shoes and he felt his heartbeat speed up as he neared the familiar house. Tall trees lined the sides of the road, and the crisp wind rustled the orangey leaves, falling around him and in his hair. He sighed heavily, taking a crunchy leaf from the top of his head and crushed it in his hand. In all the time he’d known Ella, he’d only seen her quite so angry a couple of times. Usually, it was just a bite in her voice and the sharpness of her tongue. Storming out was a move Jess expected far more from himself than from her.

He knocked on the front door, nerves building in his stomach. And his expression dropped just a touch when it was Lorelai who came to the door, slightly out of breath and less than thrilled to see him.

“Hi,” he began lamely, glancing behind her and trying to listen for other voices. “Is Eleanor here?”

Breathing out a short sigh, Lorelai put her hands on her hips. “No.”

“...do you know where she is?” Jess asked.

“She’s at the charity book sale at the high school with Rory and Lane,” she said, after a moment of debate over just slamming the door shut in his face. And, before he could run off, she added: “And I wouldn’t go find her.”

“Why not?”

Lorelai looked down at her shoes, crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe. “Look, Bender, I know you fancy yourself her knight in shining leather-”

“Hey-”

She raised a hand to stop him, and continued with a tense tone in her voice. “But she went through a lot before you ever got here. She’s still going through a lot now. And she doesn’t need you butting in and complicating all her complications.”

“I just wanted to know what’s wrong,” he explained defensively, mirroring her guarded stance.

“And it’s not my place to let you know. She’ll tell you when she’s ready,” Lorelai said. “She broke her arm during a dance at Miss Patty’s when she was ten. And do you know how long it took for her to tell anyone how much it hurt?”

He shook his head.

“Five days. Her arm was practically a purple tree trunk by the time they got her to the hospital! And that may’ve been an extreme case, but the point stands,” she said, straightening up and softening her face just a touch. “I think I’ve only seen her cry twice in ten years. She likes to work things out on her own. And she’s just got some communication issues, like someone else I know.”

She gave Jess a pointed look and he averted his gaze self-consciously.

“I bet Ella’s told you she doesn’t believe in love.”

Sighing heavily, Jess nodded.

“But we both know that’s not true. She’s cleaned my rain gutters every week for the past few years, just because I don’t like heights. When Rory had the chickenpox, Ella came here everyday after school with a new card or drawing, and stayed over until it got dark out. She always sneaks Lane her new contraband music through this weird window dumbwaiter system they made years ago. When Miss Patty needs a piano player, Ella fills in without pay, no complaints.”

Running a hand over his mouth anxiously, he nodded again. It was times like these when his heart ached for Ella, knowing how both similar and different they were from each other. He dealt with things through anger and trouble, and she dealt with things through guilt and silence. Neither method was healthy, but Ella’s was far less outwardly destructive.

“Jess, when Ella loves someone, she loves them completely. She trusts them completely,” Lorelai continued, eyebrows raised at the young hellion. “She’ll live and die for them. But it takes her years to get there. You have to be patient.”

“Alright.”

“And if you hurt her, so help me God-”

“I know. You’ll string me up in town square to set an example?” he interjected, waving a dismissive hand.

“Something along those lines.”

“Noted. Well, I gotta go,” he said, making to leave. Lorelai only hummed in acknowledgement. Before he stepped off the porch, Jess turned back over his shoulder and muttered out a “Thanks.”

In response, Lorelai gave a tiny smile, and disappeared back into the house.

. . .

His collar was up against the wind, and Jess had to try three times to light his cigarette. The diner was closed up, lights off. Bluish smoke formed hazy clouds in front of him, obscuring his view of the nearly-deserted town square. The twinkle lights were shining, and a few stray cars rolled past him every now and them, their red brake lights glowing in the darkness. Everyone seemed to be in bed already, at half past nine, in preparation for the week ahead. It made him sad, thinking of how vibrant New York was at this time of night. He wondered what his mother was doing, which boyfriend she was with. And then he scoffed at himself and let her leave his mind, crushing his cigarette out beneath the toe of his boot on the sidewalk. Looking up, he saw Orion’s belt in the autumn sky. He was homesick for the first time in recent memory.

“Hey, tough guy. Thought you kicked the habit?” he heard, and looked over to find Ella, coming from the direction of Lane’s house, arms crossed to keep herself warm.

He laughed humorlessly. “The addictive personality comes and goes.”

She sighed, leaned against the front window of Luke’s next to him. Keeping a careful distance, she tried and failed to catch his eye. He looked ahead, watching as an RV, presumably a family of tourists, rolled by on the other side of the square.

“I’m sorry,” she said, running a hand through her blonde waves. Goosebumps formed on her legs beneath her tights. Darkness had brought a harsh breeze. “I didn’t mean to freak out like that.”

“Mm,” Jess hummed, still not meeting her gaze.

Ella sighed through her nose, looking down at her disintegrating converse. “I just got in a fight with Fiona. She keeps wanting me to call her mom, so we scream at each other, and she cries so I’m the one who ends up apologizing. And then she said she and my dad are trying for another kid.”

His eyebrows shot up, and he finally turned his head to her.

Clearing her throat, she shot a bitter smirk his way. “I know. When they’re doing so well with the ones they already have, right? Anyway...I left the house and I didn’t know what to do. So, when you saw me earlier, I was just completely in my own head and...I was angry at you for nothing. And you don’t deserve that. I’ve been so stressed and caught up lately. And I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, voice husky. And he took her cold hand in his. She closed her eyes and felt her breath catch in her throat for a moment. Swallowing down her feelings, she took a step closer to him. She hadn’t expected such easy forgiveness.

“No, it’s not okay. And you don’t have to say it is. I’m just new at this whole thing. I’m not used to...talking about anything, really, let alone everything. Most of the time, even Rory and Lane don’t know too much about what’s going on with me.”

“I know. That’s okay, honey,” he repeated, and she finally let a weak smile across her lips. Jess smiled a small smile back, and hoped she could know what he meant in so few words. As he saw her shoulders relax and surprise shine in her hazel eyes, Lorelai’s words remained in the back of his mind. Patience. He could do that. He could wait. Especially when he’d waited for her so long already.

“Thanks. For…”

“Don’t mention it,” he cut in, bringing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in to plant a kiss on the top of her head.

“Really, Jess. I don’t think you realize how nice you are,” she doubled down, looking him straight in the eye.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes at the compliment, brushing it off.

Ella rolled her eyes back at his secret bashfulness and kissed him on the lips. The air was cold, but a warmth began in her stomach and spread throughout her upon feeling his touch. She stood on her tiptoes and he brought a hand to one of her hips. A moment passed between them, but thought popped suddenly into Ella’s head and she pulled away from him.

“Hold on,” she said, turning around to rummage in her bag. Eventually, she pulled out a book with yellowed pages and a black and white cover. As she held it out to him, Jess recognized the face on the front. On Writing by Stephen King.

Raising a hesitant eyebrow, he took it and immediately turned it over to read the back.

“I know it’s Stephen King, but I saw it at the charity thing today and if you’re gonna write the great American novel— which you are—I figured you could use a little advice from one of the professionals.”

“Huh,” he chirped, his voice with a surprised lilt.

She smirked. “Trust me. Rory told me lots of her favorite authors swear by it. And since you guys both have similarly questionable tastes...”

Jess shot her a teasing glare.

“I was going to give it to you for your birthday in a few days, but you let me borrow your angry music and be a jackass to you today. I decided to make it an early present. On your actual birthday, I’ll give you something by an author you don’t despise.”

He chuckled a little and turned to her, smiling more genuinely than she expected. Bringing his arms back around her waist, he pulled her in for a tight hug and she could hear a muffled “Thank you” through the kisses he pressed to her cheek.

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final-girl96 · 4 years

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Let's Save The World

Chapter Ten

Luther had gotten up and got five a sandwich and some coffee. "So... you were hit men?" He asked.

"Yes," Five and I both said.

"Uh... I mean, you had a code, right? You didn't kill just anybody," Luther said as he sat back down on the chair he had been seated in.

"No code," Five said. "We took out anyone who messed woth the time line."

"No matter who they were. If they messed with the timeline we took them out. It's that simple," I said.

"What about innocent people," he asked.

"It's the only way we could get back here," Five said looking up at him.

"But that's murder," Luther said.

"Grow up, Luther. We're not kids anymore," I told him.

"There's no such thing as good guys or bad guys. There s just people, goin' about their lives," Five said. "But when the world ends, all those people die, including our family."

Five sighed as Luther looked at us. "Time changed everuthing," he said and looked at me but I kept looking at Luther.

I sat there and thought about the days we were stuck in the wasteland we once called home.

*flashback*

We had jumped to far. Now as we look around we can see nothing but ruble and fire. "Five, where are we?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said.

Five tried getting us back bit his powers weren't working. We looked around to see our siblings all dead.

Well all except for one. Vanya. Where could she be? Is she alive?

After a few weeks of being there me and Five got separated when we were out scavenging. I had gotten lost and couldn't get my baring right. Nothing looked the same.

I was on my own for five years. I had found a small building that bad half of it still standing. So I made it my home. While out searching I ended up at the library.

It had been standing somewhat but what caught my eye was a familar looking boy. He was taller now and older but he still had that brown hair that was perfectly kept. How he did that in a place like this was anyone's guess.

"Five?" I said.

He was standing on a pile of books writing on the concert beams. He turned around and looked at me before going back to his work.

"Yes, Eight? What's is..." He started to say before he realized I was really there.

"Eight!" He said and jumped down running over to me and pulling me into a bone crushing hug.

I giggled and hugged him back. "What happened to you?" He asked pulling away.

"Oh, you know. Got lost. I couldn't get my bearings everything looks different. But I'm fine," I said.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Trying to figure a way to get us home," Five said and went back to his writing.

A few years later Five asked me to marry him. He had surprisingly found rings in a store that was half burnt down.

We were in our 50s when the handler came along and we joined the commission.

*end of flash back*

We had made our way back to the Academy. We walked up the stairs. We walked towards Klaus' room after hearing him groaning. We looked in to see him itching himself. "Oh, boy," he said.

Five and I looked at each other. There was no doubt Klaus had time traveled.

Five walked into the door way and kocked. I peered over his shoulder. Klaus was standing there putting a shirt on.

"You okay?" Five asked as he walked into the room as I followed him.

Klaus looled at us. "Hey," he whispered.

He looked like had just been through some heavy shit. "Yeah, I just... long night," he told us.

"More than one, from the looks of it," Five said.

"Yeah," Klaus said putting his shirt over his head.

"Don't remember the dog tags," Five told him.

I didn't even notice them I was focused on the new tattoo.

"Yeah, they belonged to a friend," Klaus said.

"How about the new tattoo?" I asked.

Klaus looled at his arm "yeah know, I don't totally remember even getting it," he said. "Like I said, it was a long night."

"You did it, didn't you?" I asked.

"What are you talkin' abput?" He asked.

"You know, we can recognize the symptoms, klaus," Five told him.

"Symptoms of what?" Klaus asked.

"Jet lag," I said.

"Full body itch," Five continued. "The headache that feels like someone shoved a box of cotton up into your nose and through your brain."

"YOU gonna tell us about it?" I asked and sat beside him on his bed.

"Your pals, when they broke onto the house and they couldn't find you, they took me hostage instead," Klaus said looking between me and Five.

"And in return, you stole their briefcase," Five said.

"Yeah," he answered. "I thought there was money in it, or I could pawn it, you know, whatever."

Five paces the room. "And then I opened it," Klaus said.

"And the next thing you know, you were... where?" I asked. Or should I say When?"

"What d ofference does it make?" He asked.

"What diff... uh... okay, how long were you gone?" Five said clearly frustrated.

"Almost a year," Klaus said.

"A year?" I asked and looked at Five.

"Do you know what this means?" Five said.

"Yeah, I'm ten months older now," Klaus said.

"No, this isn't any sort of joke, klaus," Five told him. "Hazel and Cha Cha will do whatever they can to get that briefcase."

"Where's is it now?" I asked.

"Gone. I destroyed it," he said. "Poof."

"What?" I said.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Five said.

"Calm down Five," I told him.

"What do you care?" Klaus said.

"What do I care? I needed it, you moron, so I could get back. I could start over," Five said.

I glared at him. Of course he wanted to start over so then he could take back asking me to marry him.

"Just... just," Klaus said getting up walking towards the door.

"Where are you goung?" Five asked.

"Interogation's over, just...leave," Klaus said walking out if the room.

Five grabbed a pen and paper off the night stand and sat down on the bed beside me and started scribbling something on the paper.

Taglist: @marylimlp

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beatleszeppelin · 4 years

Text

Airport- Hippo Campus

Chapter 1

Summary: Hippo Campus, flying to London, if they can get on the plane. There's old ladies, peeing, anxiety, milkshakes, and hand holding. So buckle up, we have lift off.

Warnings: Anxiety attack, crying, Planes, Gropy old ladies, Drinking, Boner Jokes, Non-Graphic M*sturbation

Word Count: 2.2k

Whistler was in the bathroom, leaving everyone else in the van outside waiting. Nathan had driven over to the house to pick up Zach and Whistler on time, but getting to the airport in a timely fashion was going to be challenging. Jake was already at the airport, he said he had gotten there earlier that morning because he had nothing better to do.

Whistler ran out to the van with his last suitcase in hand, but had to run back up to the door to kiss Demi. Hopping back in the van he yelled "Drive, what are you waiting for?"

"We were waiting for you" Nathan retorts; he's a real piece of work, that Whistler. Nathan turned the radio on to a tape Zach had made, all Sugar Ray, Sum 41, and Smash Mouth.

Zach was quietly eating sun chips in the backseat, holding his backpack as a pillow. Looking out the window, he sat for almost an hour; until they got to the airport.

When they arrived, they had to haul not only luggage, but their instruments as well. Zach had a bag with his favorite bass in it. His 5 stringed bass, the same one he had been using since he was 12. He had a hard time letting anyone else touch it let alone fly across an ocean. Nathan had his guitar in an expensive case, a leather one with a hard interior. Anything to protect his Gretsch. And Whistler was shipping a high hat, a drum head, and was told that the rest were promised to be at a venue.

After they got their luggage checked and went through security, they were set out to find Jake. “He texted me he was going to get breakfast,” Whistler said, checking his phone. He leaned on the conveyor belt that was taking them to the correct gate.

Nathan had a habit of getting lost in thought in crowded places, or empty places for the record. He looked at a little girl, holding a stuffed dog. She clung to it as an only reminder of home. A boy, about seven, was holding his mother’s shirt, as she held more luggage than any of them together were, and she was navigating them to their gate. He envied how calm she looked. He was finding the gate for the boys he was in charge of, and while trying to be prepared for anything that could possibly happen. He was more stressed than he had been while studying for his SATs.

Zach looked dead. He stared out the giant windows along the corridor that shows the runway outside. Nathan was watching him, but he didn’t know. Zach must be tired, he barely talked on the way here, and had no emotion behind his eyes right now. He still had bed head, and wore a dark blue sweatshirt that looked to be a size too big.

At the end of the travelator, there was a food court of sorts, and a group of chairs at their gate. They got situated in the seats, Nathan and Zach went to find Jake, leaving Whistler to watch their stuff.

“I can try texting him again,” Nathan suggested. “Maybe he’ll tell us which place he got food at this time.”

Zach nodded. “We should get food when we find him” he mumbled.

“Sure.You look tired, rough night?” Nathan said as he put his hand on Zach’s shoulder.

“I kept waking up all night, stayed up past my bedtime writing, and everytime I woke up it took forever to fall back asleep”

“Well, we’ve got a twelve hour flight ahead of us, maybe you can get some sleep on the plane.”

“Maybe.”

Nathan’s phone buzzed in his hand. “Jake said he’s at Cinnabon. We walked past that like a hundred times, how could we have missed him?”

“We started looking at 9:14, now it’s 9:31. We’ve been looking for seventeen minutes, it's taking us about five minutes to get to the end of this strip. We’ve walked past this 3 times almost 4 times. How could we have possibly looked past him?” Zach said turning them around.

They circled back to the Cinnabon, and sat down to look for Jake. He’s tall, skinny, probably wearing striped pants or something; how is he this hard to find? They saw a group of older women, old enough to be their mothers, dressed in hawiian shirts and sundresses. Sitting at the table was a 20-something guy in a hawiian shirt, and striped pants.

“Jake!” Nathan yelled, getting his attention.

“Hey, where have you been I told you where I was forever ago.” he said, turning away from the group of ladies.

“Who are these people?” Zach asked quietly.

“Oh this is Joan, her and her husband are getting their vows renewed for their 35th anniversary. Here’s her sister Margret, Maggie. This is his ex wife Lynn, who hates him…”

“Hey that’s my mom’s name,” Zach said, cutting him off.

“Did you bring some friends to come on the cruise with us?” One of the women said with a heavy Minnesota accent. Another one grabbed Nathan’s butt causing him to take a step back.

“No, these guys are in the band with me. We’re starting a UK tour this week.” Jake said, pushing Zach back to Nathan.

“Where is your husband?” Zach asked innocently.

All of the surrounding women started laughing, until Joan said “Oh he’s off on his bachelors party, so we’re taking a girls weekend and going on a cruise.” She took a step forward, leaned into Zach, and seducingly said “And maybe pick up a couple boy toys as well.”

Nathan cringed, and Zach’s cheeks and ears turned a cherry shade of red. He was now playing with his hands, and looking down.

“Jake we’ll be waiting at gate B-14, come meet us when y’all are done with this” Nathan said gesturing.

“No, I’ll come with you. It was nice meeting you ladies, have fun on your trip.” he waved.

As they walked away you could hear “Now look what you’ve done, made more kids uncomfortable again.”

“They were into it”

Zach was still looking down at his feet as they approached where they had left Whistler. “Hey, I’m sorry about that,” Jake said to Zach, putting his very long arm around Zach’s shoulder.

“Sorry to him, that woman just grabbed my fucking butt” Nathan spewed.

“Language” Zach warned.

They got back to the gate where they were to wait for their flight, their bags were there but Whistler was gone. “Fuck! Okay, check and make sure all are bags are here”

Whistler waltzed up, hands in his pockets, and nodded when he saw Jake was with them.

“You were supposed to look after our stuff!” Nathan yelled.

“I thought you were going to get Jake and come back. Not wander around, get lunch, maybe see a movie in your spare time, and then show up.”

“We had some trouble finding him,” Nathan said. He was normally reasonable about most things, but not after all the stress he had been under all day.

“I had to piss”

“You went right before we left,” Nathan said seriously.

“That was forever ago”

“We left at 8:00, it is now 9:50,” Zach said, checking his watch. “My backpack isn’t here.” Zach sat on the floor in the pile of carry-ons. He sat, holding his knees, chest heaving.

“What was in your backpack, nothing expensive I hope,” Jake asked.

“My notebook, a gameboy to play on the plane, extra glasses… Shit!”

“What?”

“Nothing.” he said defeated, burying his head in his knees.

“Medicine.” Jake said with a look of realization.

Zach looked up at him with big puppy dog eyes. You could tell he didn’t want them to know, and was terribly embarrassed, as the red was back on his cheeks like earlier. He handed his glasses to Jake and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

Jake turned his back to Zach, who now looked like the little kid Jake met him as, and he started to talk to Whistler and Nathan. “Zach has anxiety, always has. It’s mostly social anxiety, but it manifests in other ways too. He takes medicine for it, but he must not have yet so it lasted all through the flight. Don’t worry that you didn’t know, it took me five years of knowing him before he told me accidentally.”

“Eh, Zach, you know you can tell us anythi-” Whistler started.

“Dramamine!” Nathan cut off Whistler, and started rummaging through his bag.

“We’re gonna knock him out?” Whistler asked sitting next to Nathan.

“Yes, or no, doesn’t matter. It helps with motion sickness, and anxiety, and as an added bonus you might sleep, seeing as you didn’t much last night.” Nathan said frantically.

“How do you know all of this?” Jake asked.

“You’ve met my mom right,” Nathan said.

“Hell yeah” Jake said with a wink.

“Stop it, not the time. Never the time,” he said thoroughly disgusted, “Hey Zach, look at me.” He kneeled next to Zach and touched his shoulder. “Hi.”

“Hello”

“We’re gonna go get a drink, maybe some breakfast, because we forgot to do that earlier. And then you can take some meds.”

Nathan held out his hand to help Zach up. Zach grabbed it and didn’t let go. They walked over to a McDonalds that was near, Nathan got Zach a breakfast sandwich and a milkshake, which he crushed some dramamine into and gave to Zach. He drank it. His hands were shaking as he set the cup on the table. He quickly pulled his sleeves over his hands and started picking at the inner seams.

“Shit!”

“Language” Zach said as he got startled by Nathan’s sudden burst of anger.

“It’s 10:24”

“My pills won’t work in time”

“We need to board the plane in like five minuets.”

“Six”

“Now it’s five”

They threw away the wrappers, and ran to the gate. Whistler and Jake were waiting with all of their bags, waving them to hurry up. They showed their tickets to the lady working the stand, and walked with purpose to get to their seats. Zach’s stomach dropped when he walked on to the passenger boarding bridge, it shook beneath him when he stepped, he felt like he’d fall. He didn’t have a bag to put in his overhead compartment, nor did he have anything to distract him from taking off.

Zach and Whistler were sat next to each other in the middle, and Nathan and Jake were on the side, Nathan had the window seat.

Zach started to panic. His seatbelt made it hard to breathe, his sweater felt tight around his neck, he felt his heart beat, it made his chest bounce. He shut his eyes and tried to not think, he tried to think of something else, somewhere else, but all he could think of was falling.

“Hey Jake shouldn’t you be the one afraid of flying, I mean heights and all?” Whistler asked across an old lady that had an aisle seat.

“No, can’t fall out of a plane.”

“Planes crash,” Whistler argued.

“Please stop, that kid looks like he’s about to have a heart attack, and I should know that’s what my second husband died of. Right on top of me” the old lady said interjecting.

They looked over at Zach, whose eyes were shut tight, and his glasses were laying on his lap. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could tell his face was puffy, and red. He violently wiped his eyes with his sleeves, and rubbed his nose hard. Both of his legs were shaking, and he focused hard on breathing; in and out.

“Hey… Bud. You are good.” Whistler said, patting Zach’s knee. “You know panic attacks can only last two hours at a time, before your body gives out due to exhaustion.”

“Stop you're scaring him.”

“I don’t think I can scare him more than he already is.”

“Switch with me” Jake offered a very uncomfortable Whistler. Jake shimmied across the old lady, and apologised for his butt being in her face.

“Oh don’t worry dear, it’s the most action I’ve had in years.” She winked.

Whistler was now next to Nathan, and Jake had room to calm Zach down.

“Wow, you’re really not a warm and fuzzy type of person are you?” Nathan asked

“Dogs love me,” he said with a shrug.

“Hey Zach, what games were you gonna play?”

“Mario”

“Once we get back home I’m totally gonna kick your ass at smash bros.”

“Language,” said Zach and the old lady at the same time.

“I can’t do this,” Zach whimpered.

“Do what, you’ll fall asleep in less than an hour, then who will I talk too?”

“Oh I can keep you company sweetheart,” said Jakes new favorite old lady. (Watch out Nanna)

The plane shook a little and then the stewardess came out and told everyone to put on their seatbelts, and turn devices off. Jake grabbed Zach’s hand, ignoring the wetness of his sleeve, that was covered in snot and tears. The plane started to turn upwards, and everyone's ears popped. Zach still had not opened his eyes, his head was pressed into the back of the seat, and he was holding hands with Jake. In less than 20 minutes, Zach was nestled against Jake, asleep. Jake was talking to Agnes, and Whistler and Nathan were sharing earbuds watching old disney movies.

#Hippo campus #hippo campus fan fic #jake luppen #Nathan Stocker #Whistler Allen #zach sutton

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afterspark-podcast · 5 years

Text

G1 Episode 26: Transcript

Episode Show Notes

[This can also be found on AO3!]

S: It's a Megaman rock opera and a Megaman rock opera prequel.

[ Intro Music]

O: Hello! And welcome to the Afterspark Podcast, an episode by episode recap of the Generation 1 Transformers cartoon. I'm Owls!

S: And I'm Specs!

O: And today we're gonna be talking about episode number 26: Attack of the Autobots. Let's talk about giant robots today, shall we?

S: Sure.

O: Today we open at the Ark, with the Autobots preparing something when the Decepticons attack. Prowl has a confrontation with Laserbeak.

S: Buy Prowl now, kids! He comes with a rad grappling hook accessory. You know you want it.

O: Tubular! [Laughter] Thundercracker and Skywarp shoot at Optimus and he tries to save Ratchet bridal style but the explosion throws them both face-first onto the ground.

S: No one’s having a good day here.

O: No one is having a good day here.

S: Rumble then, like, does his thing and sends Optimus and Ratchet into a crevice.

O: Elsewhere, Megatron and Starscream prepare to storm the Ark by spraying each other with invisibility spray.

S: Alright! Stuff that they'll never do anything with ever again. Does no one ever think of using these things, like, seriously? Do they ever think this stuff through?

O: We both know they don't. Soundwave is the only one capable of planning ahead and no one listens to him enough, obviously.

S: I guess, and then these two. They just walk smack-dab into the Ark.

O: The Autobots don't have any sort of scanning crap for their front door based on weight, heat signatures, something?

S: I mean, I thought they had a camera when Nightbird turns up or something. They had a camera at some point, but it looks like they just got rid of their anti-ninja floor which would have maybe helped here?

O: Possibly, but then Megatron and Starscream enter the main Teletraan-1 room and press a button, revealing two beds or recharging chambers, rather.

S: Oh, what does this tell us about the Autobots? Rather too much, I think.

O: [Laughter]

S: Megs tells Starscream to hand him the personality disrupter-

O: Oh god.

S: And then he just, like, plops the thing into the machine.

O: We’re in the Teletraan-1 room, right? Like this- this is really the plan we're going with instead of blowing it up or something?

S: Or sabotage?

O: Sabotage, yeah! I mean, I guess this is sabotage of a kind, but- but, boy in a roundabout way.

S: Everyone just wants to fuck with each other's heads, we already know that.

O: I guess. We were talking about Megatron and Starscream. It's like their MMO or their IMO- modus operandi.

S: Yes. And then these two just, you know, trot off outside and then take off. Megatron is laughing maniacally about the Autobots experiencing a “transformation” they won't expect the next time they go to sleep.

O: What is he, Freddy Krueger, now?

S: I guess?

O: [Laughter] The crossover no one asked for.

S: Well, someone might have asked for it.

O: Eh…

S: I don’t know. Back with Rumble, he's kneeling at the edge of the crevasse he created earlier wondering why he didn't hear Ratchet and Optimus hit the bottom.

O: Optimus and Ratchet come out magically flying and say, “Because we'd rather hit you!”

S: Okay.

O: It's so dumb, I can't I hate it.

S: Unfortunately, the mental image that I have of this because I don't actually remember what happens is that they’re doing side hugs as they fly out-

O: [Laughter] No, I think they both come out punching or something but I don’t remember.

S: Yes but what I’m seeing is like a side hug with punching.

O: Oh my god. [muffled laughter]

S: I’m sorry, it’s been so long.

O: It really has been awhile since we watched this.

S: And so, um, Megatron orders a retreat and the Decepticons follow suit.

O: I love that Laserbeak gets away from Prowl in like five seconds flat despite being caught by Prowl’s grapple hook thing. It really makes it seem like he was just toying with Prowl the whole time. He probably was, cuz Laserbeak is actually intelligent.

S: Yeah and distracting Prowl, or the guy who might wonder why the hell they did this seems like a smart thing to do.

O: Well, or the person who's going, “Golly, where’s Starscream and Megatron?”

S: Yeah.

O: So, yeah, go- pretty good planning, there.

S: For someone, which was probably Soundwave.

O: Or Laserbeak. I would, I think either one would be capable of this.

S: Yeah. Brawn yells that, “Soundwave didn't finish his nickel-plated knuckle sandwich,” as Soundwave flies off.

O: Say it with me kids, “Fuck Brawn.” [Laughter] Ratchet tries to chase Rumble but Rumble turns into a tape to escape his grasp. So he falls to the ground and then he turns back into a robot when Ratchet tries to pick him up off the ground and then he flies off, turning back into a tape and hopping into Soundwave’s chest.

S: And the good chunk of this is happening while Ratchet is knelt on the ground trying to pick him up in tape mode.

O: Which is just a wonderfully ridiculous sentence. Anyway, the Autobots watch the Cons fly away as the moon chills in the background.

S: And this, it honestly just looks like a magical girl anime shot for some reason.

O: Okay, I'm just like, how do you turn, like, the Transformers theme into a magical girl theme and and, uh, has that been done?

S: At this point, all that's coming to mind is, like, crossing the Transformers theme and the Sailor Moon theme.

O: I feel like Sailor Moon’s not a good fit. There's got to be a better- a better magical girl theme that's a little bit more action oriented, because you've heard- you've heard Sailor Moon, it's a love song.

S: Yeah, but the thing is I don't really watch a lot of magical girl anime, so I have a limited amount of experience.

O: Touche. I feel like Utena- crossing it with Utena would actually work better. Utena’s weird as balls, guys.

S: Yes, but I haven’t seen that yet.

O: I need to lend it to you, because it’s weird. It's, like, my kind of weird. [Laughter] Anyway, Ratchet comments that, “It's kind of weird that Megatron ran off so quickly,” but Prowl thinks that perhaps they were so quick to respond they were able to make their goal impossible to achieve.

S: Unfortunately, Prowl, you are extremely wrong here. You're so very very wrong, you're on a different continent.

O: [Laughter]

S: You're on a different planet. You're ice cold, buddy.

O: [Laughter] You can go south, you're, like, in the North Pole.

S: But Optimus just looks very squintily into the camera and says that, “Megatron always has a method to his madness.”

O: HE DOES!?!

S: Yes!

O: I think it depends on the day and the writer. Is he a moron or a genius? The world may never know!

S: How much crack is involved.

O: Also true. The next day we see the Autobots using the recharge chambers.

S: Oh, and our first victims are Ratchet and Optimus. And this honestly makes me think of- okay so the positioning of- [groans]

O: Okay, with how the beds are positioned, it looks very, very similar to- to the 50 sitcoms like, you know, the ones. Like, uh,I Love Lucy, uh, Flintstones is not a good example because they did sleep in the same bed. Just, 50’s sitcoms, yes?

S: Yeah, I Love Lucy, The Honeymooners, probably. Um. So basically because of, you know, morality codes or something they couldn't show couples sharing beds because- sex. You couldn't imply sex.

O: Basically, despite if they have children. I just can't get over that these are the ONLY two beds on the entire Ark.

S: It’s share and share alike here, I guess. All the minibots pile in. I don't know.

O: “Ah, nothing like a good recharge to give the old bolts some volts.”

S: Some pep in your step!

O: I really hope that's what they meant.

S: I don't want to debate the robot physiology HERE, okay.

O: Not here, not now, uh-huh. The stars! The stars are not aligned!

S: [Sighs] Optimus tells everybody to recharge after he hops out because they got some shit to do, man.

O: Teletraan-1 informs the Autobots of a rocket launch and Optimus orders everyone to the air force base because the Decepticons will obviously be trying to steal it.

S: [Sighs] It’s the only air force base in the continental United States, obviously. It's the only thing the Decepticons can pay any attention to.

O: Apparently, but this is not before his eyes turn red and he starts to sound real evil, though.

S: Yeah, everyone else appears to be bitten by the evil bug, too, as their eyes also start glowing.

O: We have confirmation that Optimus, Skyfire, Prowl, Bluestreak, Brawn, and Hound have been affected. Teletraan can apparently sense evil now as it blasts out about an evil presence being di-tected- di-tected? Detected!

S: Honestly, why couldn't Teletraan-1 tell there were evil presences there earlier with Megatron and Starscream, or any of the other damn times the base has been infiltrated because-

O: [Whispering] Who the fuck knows? Who the fuck knows? [Normally] Megatron appears to be talking to Teletraan-1 directly now and he kind of begins to monologue to it-

S: How the hell is he aware of any of this?

O: The personality thing had a camera/communication device on it or something?

S: Well, I mean, I guess Laserbeak could have planted cameras.

O: He's a good birb.

S: Yeah, either that or maybe he's there, considering that in the movie we see him, like, filming stuff.

O: That's also true, but we don't see him in there at least as far as the cartoon was concerned.

S: That's true, I mean, the Decepticons didn't even see what he was filming until after he turned up, went into Soundwave, and Soundwave showed them or...

O: True. However, for that matter, why the hell didn't they just send Ravage for all this? He- he can turn invisible!

S: He was off doing something else?

O: Getting a college degree? In what?

S: He's taking a course in oil painting.

O: I hate you, and I hate that this the obvious answer here (is because of you): he's getting a degree in Russian!

S: Because he's always a-rushing.

O: [Groans loudly] It's the only excuse I have for Beast Wars. It’s definitely your fault, though!

S: [Laughter] The camera pans out as Megatron blabs some more. Additional bot’s that are infected are: Ratchet, Sideswipe, and Trailbreaker. So we did cover it.

O: We did cover it. Megatron orders the Autobots to silence Teletraan and Optimus just punches the fuck out of it.

S: I guess that's one way to handle that, you can't turn it off. But, I mean, well maybe you can turn it off. But I mean, someone's gonna be real unhappy about that, later.

O: Possibly. Whoever the poor sod is that's gonna have to fix it.

S: Also, Optimus is probably gonna feel like a bit of a heel.

O: I imagine. Outside we see Bumblebee and Jazz returning back to base with Spike and Sparkplug.

S: Sparkplug was feeling very, very posh today so they took the Porsche.

O: Apparently, they've been updating Jazz's sound system.

S: I find it really funny that the humans have a better quality sound system than the giant robots.

O: Well, I mean, if high quality sound wasn't something they needed or wanted during war than it may make kind of a certain amount of sense.

S: That is a good point about, like, resource management.

O: I mean like, it wouldn't be highly on the list of priorities. Can we hear what they're saying? Yes? It's good enough.

S: Yeah, granted I don't know- Decepticons are the only ones who seem to use bugs or anything.

O: Also true. Otherwise it’s Bumblebee overheard it. [Laughter]

S: Yeah. Bumblebee overheard it or, possibly, Hound getting weird radio transmissions ‘cause I think that happened too.

O: Oh right, right when, uh, he jacked into Megatron's head.

S: Yeah.

O: He didn’t, but that’s really what it looks like.

S: It really is. He had a stupid little radar dish.

O: Pretty much.

S: Yeah, so Jazz stops and they proceed to test out those new speakers but Bumblebee’s just like, “I’m- I'm done, I'm going back to base.”

O: I love that Sparkplug complains about the volume as Bee’s driving off, too. Like, Sparkplug, like, you could have gone with Bee. [Laughter]

S: Yeah.

O: Uh, but Bee arrives back to base and somehow initially misses the giant hole punched into Teletraan-1.

S: He rolled a one on this passive perception.

O: And that’s a whiff! [Laughter]

S: He got distracted by something else.

O: [Laughter] Bluestreak?

S: Maybe. Because Bluestreak’s being all creepy here and trying to drag Bee back to bed.

O: I love that Bee’s reaction to this uh, because Bluestreak picks him up. He's like, “No, wait-” But he doesn't sound afraid, he just sounds confused.

S: Now’s not the time Bluestreak and I mean, this just makes me wonder whether, like, the other Autobots just like, occasionally pick up the minibots?

O: Yeah. Like, do they- do they carry them? Are they like, “We need a nightcap and someone to hug.” Bumblebee is very huggable, obviously!

S: I don't think Brawn would be especially-

O: No-

S: Brawn- or Huffer or Gears.

O: No,no, Brawn is going to sit in the robot playpen, for being mean to Perceptor.

S: Yeah, I don't think Brawn, Huffer, or Gears would be especially, uh, popular with that but who knows?

O: Huffer would just whine all night. He would not be fun. But Bee is very popular as a cuddle buddy. A cuddle bug if you will.

S: Yeeeeeaaaaaaah!

O: Yeeeeeaaaaaaah! [Laughter]

S: [Sighs] Jazz manages to get some rock and roll with real rocks with his new speakers.

O: Which Sparkplug calls an avalanche but wouldn't this be a rock slide?

S: I don't know, maybe he's got different parlance, but I think it would just be a rock slide. Who knows. Jazz and the two humans head back to base, arriving just as Bluestreak shoves Bee into one of the infected recharge chambers.

O: Bluestreak fires on Jazz but Jazz beans him in the crotch by throwing something.

S: What did he throw? Who knows. Do they need it later? Also, who knows. Bee seems fine, I guess? I guess the chamber didn't turn on or wasn't on that long enough but-

O: He's fine, he's not evil. Eh.

S: And Sparkplug is able to fix Teletraan-1, so I guess he's the one who regrets everything.

O: [Laughter] I hope he gives Optimus a good talking to later.

S: Yeah, and Teletraan-1 then displays a video of Megatron shoving the thing in the thing, so I guess Teletraan-1 knew?

O You couldn’t have said something sooner? You had all night, Teletraan. Really?

S: Teletraan-1 has just the shittiest priority's, I guess.

O: Apparently, Sparkplug asks how many other Autobots are infected and Teletraan-1 just says, “All of them.”

S: Those beds got an awful lot of use and Teletraan-1 has no excuses-

O: No-

S: For not telling anyone.

O: No, none excuses.

S: The Autobots crash through into- through into the air base.

O: Welcome to this 30 second interlude. Now back to Spike and Co.

S: Teletraan-1 warns them about the attack on the base and Bee and Spike drive off.

O: Ratchet and Hound are in the front of some building, under orders to retrieve the plans for the solar satellite. Inside we see a female scientist chatting on the phone.

S: She's literally the best human in this episode, and I have a question. Is this the first we’ve ever heard of the solar satellite or it's-

O: I think they might- I can't remember. I think they said it earlier in the episode when um, when teletraan one was like, “A solar satellite is going to be launched-”

S Oh, yeah, it’s to do with a launch or whatever.

O: Yeah because that's what they're launching.

S: Alright.

O: So I think Teletraan-1 might have mentioned it earlier when the Autobots were like, “Oh, we have to go there and protect it from Decepticons!” and then, “Oh no, we're actually evil right now.”

S: Okay, okay.

O: But she is definitely the best human in this episode.

S: She's alerted to the two Autobots attacking and then grabs the blueprints for satellite and books it. Meanwhile we cut to, um, evil Ratchet and Hound stooped over, stalking through the halls.

O: I love that, even, evil they aren’t just destroying everything, right now.

S: Even evil, Ratchet’s got a delicate touch.

O: Not too delicate, and he does smash through the wall slash door to get to the scientist.

S: I guess you do what you’ve got to do when you're-

O: Evil?

S: Evil or mind controlled or whatever. So the lady scientist, who’s name is Dr. Harding, breaks a window and then jumps out, cushioning her fall with a convenient table umbrella and then hoofing it off into the distance.

O: Cue scenes of destruction, as the Autobots are just breaking all of the shit back at the Air Force Base.

S: They have Optimus smashing things and shouting, “Destroy, destroy, destroy!”

O: Bee and Spike arrive on scene with Bumblebee trying to talk some sense into Prime but he gets punched in the face. He says, “Prime, it’s Bumblebee, I'm one of you're-”

S: I’m one of your whats?

O: What am I, anyway? Am I your son? Is that how this works?

S: Eh, who knows? Megs busts uh, into Mission Control like he's the freaking Kool-Aid man, you know, again, threatening a scientist who tries to stop the launch.

O: Then he destroys a bunch of computers and tells Soundwave to hack the main computer which looks suspiciously like the bank of computers he just had destroyed.

S: They wanted to- they wanted to save some money. Got to reuse that stuff. Soundwave’s just got this itty-bitty little Jack in his finger that lets him jack into the computer immediately and, honestly, I'm kind of entertained that somehow... the robots are compatible with human computer systems.

O: I mean, I wouldn't put it beyond Soundwave to have like purposely thought that far ahead-

S: Yeah-

O: Either but- but, yeah.

S: Going backwards compatible for something as primitive as a human computer-

O: In the 80’s.

S: -in the 80s.

O: Yeah.

S: Verses, they're giant robots from outer space.

O: I mean, when we could make the argument about their tech isn't super as advanced as you'd think considering maybe they've been stopped since the start of war but ehh?

S: Maybe, it's just they're like 4 million years old, at least. Who knows what tech they had and also they're obviously a hell of a lot more-

O: Tech savvy than- than humans, yes.

S: They should be. Umm, and then afterwards he espouses about how “The launch can't be stopped now and in two Earth hours they'll be on the rocket, on their way to Cybertron.”

O: So let me get this straight. You went into Mission Control, blasted a bunch of stuff that apparently didn't matter, then had Soundwave reprogram the thing so it'll go to Cybertron. Do they even have enough fuel for that? Do they know?

S: That's really what I was wondering too, or is there even going to be enough room for all of them on that considering that, you know, that sort of thing. It's like a rocket but most of that is just to convey this satellite into the upper atmosphere and then it just stays there.

O: I don’t even know if this is supposed to be manned. Like, if they were just launching a satellite I don't even know if there should have been room for people, period.

S: There shouldn't have been any sort of room there. Whatever room there might be is supposed to be, like, fuel tanks or rocket engines.

O: But, but yeah! A lot the rocket gets dropped off in pieces during liftoff. Do they know that?

S: I think they just don't give a shit. I don't know, they don't give a frag, cuz they're robots. I mean, I assume that they scope this stuff out but I don't know.

O: If Soundwave or the cassettes did recon they're gonna be fine. Seeker’s did it, they’re all going to die.

S: Yeah.

O: That- that's my take on it.

S: Back at the Ark, Sparkplug says a bunch of gobbledygook about a thing he made to revert the Autobots back to normal.

O: I call bullshit, sir. But we all know it's gonna work because that's how this show works, so carry on. Uh, Jazz simplifies this as a “goodness transfusion.”

S: Oh, Jazz, we love you, we do.

O: We do, you're great. Bluestreak gets back up and Jazz seems to think they've found their volunteer test subject.

S: How did they not tie this dude up while he was unconscious?

O: Good question, it's not like Jazz didn't have time while Sparkplug was fixing Teletraan-1 and making his goodness transfusor thing. What was he doing?

S: For that matter, why the hell didn’t Jazz just- just, like, sit on him or something, so they didn't have to- didn't have to tie him up. Or have anything to tie him up.

O: An even better question. [Laughter]

S: I don't know, they probably could have locked him in one of the recharge chambers or-

O: Something.

S: Jazz distracts Bluestreak while Sparkplug runs up and sticks the device on Bluestreak’s leg.

O: This works as Bluestreak’s optics change from red back to blue.

S: And he informs Jazz that- and Sparkplug about Megatron's orders to take the airbase and steal the plans for the satellite.

O: The three of them set forth to make more attitude adjusters. Apparently, they're not multi-use.

S: I have a number of questions, including why they're stealing the satellite plan but they're literally going to be stealing the satellite?

O: Megatron wants to cover all of his bases.

S: I guess? Maybe they wanted to like review if they're going to adjust the satellite or something-

O: I suppose.

S: I don’t know, or just make copies of it but if they have it they could just- I don’t know.

O: I don't know.

S: Meanwhile, Dr. Harding continues to be a fuckin badass, climbing into a dumpster to hide from Hound.

O: In heels. I’m pretty sure she’s in heels.

S: Yeah.

O: Seriously, I’m in love with this woman. Why isn’t she in the series more?

S: She and Carly would have gotten along well.

O: I would have loved to see that.

S: She, Carly, and Chip.

O: Yeah! Yeah! Science buddies!

S: Mm-hmm. So Dr. Harding’s, um, hiding attempt almost doesn't work as Hound begins picking up dumpsters and crushing them, but Jazz shows up just in the nick of time.

O: Sparkplug and Jazz are able to return Hound to normal but the doctor runs off and right into the still-evil Ratchet.

S: Jazz is a very on point today as he stops Ratchet just in time, as well.

O: Back at the Air Force base, the Autobots are continuing their rampage continuing to blow up all of the shit.

S: Yep, tired of watching this Bee jumps on a plane and tells Prime he'll have to destroy him, too.

O: And commercial break! Buy the toys, kids, Bumblebee’s gonna die!

S: And back to the show, Skyfire is in the air, blowing shit up.

O: I just feel really bad for him, he's gonna feel super bad if he remembers any of this when he wakes up.

S: Um-hm. Sparkplug, Dr. Harding, Jazz, Bluestreak, Hound, and Ratchet arrived on the scene. They're just collecting people-

O: Yeah, this is like the superhero movies where you have to go collect each superhero. I also kind of love that Dr. Harding was riding in Ratchet, who was tried to kill her a few minutes ago. Respect, madam, respect.

S: Yup, they see Skyfire and then Scarf- eaugh-

O: [Snorts] And then Scarfplug-

S: Sees Skyfire and Sparkplug wonders how they're going to get one of the devices way up on him. Hound offers to shoot it with his vertical beam gun.

O: Patent-pending.

S: They're able to shoot him once they get him to come a bit closer and then Skyfire returns to normal and then, now that he’s there, they load up and roll out.

O: Still the taxi service, buddy.

S: The scale is incredibly off here because Skyfire just looks like he's bigger than the Ark.

O: Big boy! Bee is still holding the ground against Optimus but gets lifted up in the air, just as the others arrive in Skyfire.

S: They show up just in time to interrupt the evil Autobots’ arts and crafts lesson.

O: With aircraft!

S: There's so much you can do with aircraft.

O: Obviously. Look! I can make pretty flowers.

S: Yeah. You can give yourself wings.

O: [Laughter] Look Optimus! I’m a Seeker!

S: Hound is able to shoot Prowl and Brawn with the personality things but misses Optimus. Who proceeds to chuck Bumblebee across the tarmac.

O: Prime splits into three, by way of his trailer, Roller, and himself. So, the Father, Son, and Holy Trailer? [Laughter]

S: Yeah.

O: Hound nails the trailer and Roller in short order.

S: They missed their chance to hit the three for one deal and now they have to get them all separately and, oh no! They're down to their last attitude exchanger.

O: They apparently only had time to make one extra.

S: I'm kind of amused by the fact that they acted- so the thing is, technically, I think they made three extras.

O: I guess you're right, because they missed with one, and then they had to hit two or- for the trailer.

S: that- four.

O: Yeah, they had- so they had to hit his trailer and Roller and then him. So you’re right. Technically, they made four.

S: Which, that is actually a pretty good margin of error, I think.

O: Yeah, I’ll give you that one. You're right, they were like, “Okay, we know this many are infected, presumably,” and then they made four extra and probably ran out of time, which, fair. Okay, fair.

S: So they- they made an attempt.

O: They did. I got to give Jazz and Sparkplug more credit here. And Bluestreak, I guess, he was helping, too.

S: Yeah. Bee yoinks the uh, remaining attitude adjuster out of Ratchet’s hands and books it on over to Optimus.

O: Optimus is able to fight the control for just long enough for Bee to get the attitude exchanger on him.

S: The Autobots realize they must stop the rocket launch to stop Megatron's plan and Dr. Harding says that it must go into orbit and that earth needs the energy that it'll supply.

O: Why didn’t the Cons just steal it from orbit?

S: Because they're dumbasses and we've got to have something so, you know, have drama here.

O: Do they not have object permanence? Like, “Oh, we can't see it anymore, it's not there anymore.”

S: I guess, I don't know they've made so many fucking spaceships at this point that they just have-

O: This shouldn't be a problem! [Wheezes] Hell, Starscream is apparently space worthy! They could have just- I don't know, waited a couple weeks and chucked Starscream into the atmosphere?

S: I imagine all the Seekers are space worthy. I mean, have we gotten to the episode where Shockwave just rides Starscream in-

O: No, not yet.

S: -in space.

O: No, no, not yet. But- but yeah like we have proof that, at least, Starscream is space worthy and presumably both the other Seekers are, too.

S: I don't think, shoot. What's-his-face? Astrotrain has come in yet but he's definitely space worthy.

O: Like, yeah, yeah! Fair, fair.

S: And we know Megatron’s space worthy.

O: Oh well, yeah, right! He can fly, why am I arguing with this?

S: Yes, he can fly and, I mean, we already saw him survive a planet explosion or whatever happened with that.

O: I would still- don't know how that worked but, uh, they all load up into Skyfire again, and head over to the rocket launch.

S: Megatron rips a door off the rocket and the Cons pile in and-

O: That's not gonna cause problems at all here, huh?

S: Oh, it should. I mean, it doesn't mean that it will.

O: This ship doesn't operate on reality... right.

S: It- Yeah, it ignores so many things.

O: It does. The rocket blasts off and Ratchet and Optimus bail out of Skyfire to land on it.

S: They, um, they're go- they're the go-team, apparently. Where's Wheeljack in this? I feel like Ratchet’s missing his buddy.

O: Wheeljack hasn't been in this entire episode so I have to assume he's taking the Dinobots somewhere, otherwise I'd assume they would have all been smashing stuff up, like with everybody else.

S: At this point, I just think Wheeljack, Perceptor, and Beachcomber took the Dinobots out for some enrichment and missed the whole thing.

O: I mean, probably just so they didn't have to fight the Dinobots uh, is why they're not in here but, uh, yeah, no, I agree with that. That's much nicer.

S: Yeah, they're all out doing swamp science or something.

O: See, I'm just imagining - they took the Dinobots to the beach.

S: [indistinct]

O: Beachcomber’s with them, right?

S: Yeah.

O: So, they're all on the beach. Uh, Wheeljack is there with whatever a robo pina colada is, uh, Perceptor’s taking sand samples, Beachcomber is corralling the Autobots- er, the- the Dinobots close to shore. It's a very, very heartwarming family vacation. So Ratchet could get a bit of a break, you know, not having to babysit the dinosaurs and then they come back and it's- it's like that gif where the guy walks into the room and everything's on fire. That- that is what Wheeljack came home to- and he's, like, “Probably a good thing I left although, boy, do I hate coming home.” [Laughter]

S: Yeah, yeah. Meg- Ratchet and Optimus have been trying to separate the rocket and the satellite so Optimus can take it into orbit and Megatron doesn’t like this plan.

O: Nevermind how this rocket is fucking GINORMOUS for some reason because the Cons are so! Tiny! [Laughter] Specs just keeps, like, shrugging in more exaggerated motions, I’m sorry you can’t see it.

S: Yeah. The other Autobots want to help but aren't sure how- with how to do it without hurting Optimus and Ratchet, until Jazz gets an idea, and I wonder what that idea’s gonna be.

O: He gets on the outside of Skyfire and I love Skyfire so much here, he's like, “Watch the first step, it's a doozy,” and, of course, all I can think of is, “Watch the first step, it's a dooooozy!”

S: And then Jazz transforms into car mode, so we have a car... riding a jet. Specifically, a Porsche riding a space jet.

O: I'm pretty sure that Skyfire’s, ah, model or whatever was not big enough to do that in Macross but alright. [Laughter]

S: Who knows? And about that Chekhov's gun or, in this case, Chekov’s speakers.

O: Jazz uses his new sound system to create a musical sonic boom.

S: Jazz weaponized music to take out a rocket.

O: Of course he did. Megatron orders the Cons to, “Abandon rocket!”

S: Ratchet and Optimus land safely on Skyfire who takes them high enough for Optimus to yeet the satellite into orbit.

O: [Laughter]

S: Honestly, why don't they just get Brawn to do this?

O: I- do we even see Brawn? Is Brawn here? I don't remember.

S: I don't know, it's just no- I mean, why don't they just hire out Brawn’s services to toss things into orbit?

O: [Laughter] Well, or, like, Perceptor. I know he's not in this episode but he's in the next episode as like- I could see Perceptor shooting something into space with an amazing degree of accuracy.

S: That’s true.

O: Probably would take less fuel, too.

S: Yeah. So, yeah, Optimus yeets the stupid satellite into orbit and it's just goofy as hell. Back at the Ark, Ratchet’s yanked out the personality displacer from the recharge stations.

O: This would not have fucking happened if you had more than two beds! In the entire Ark!

S: And if they weren't controlled by the same damn thing, like, if you had separate control systems.

O: Right, so you couldn't just shove the thing in Teletraan-1. But! Everyone decides to fight for credit for saving the day.

S: Ratchet has a fit of temper, as he does not want to share and begins to argue with Sparkplug,

O: “You wouldn’t know a microchip from a potato chip!” The Autobots know what potato chips are.

S: Well, Ratchet does, and presumably Spike has eaten potato chips in Bumblebee so he might have had to deal with-

O: -Crumbs.

S: [Laughter, indistinct] -crumbs!

O: “Hey, Ratchet, I need a good vacuum.” “You need a what!?!”

S: And we have a total on the number of Air Force jets destroyed by the Autobots.

O: Jazz says it's 47.

S: How much is that gonna cost the Autobots, anyway?

O: Nothing! Optimus says Ratchet, Sparkplug are gonna fix them!

S: Oh boy. Oh boy, oh boy. Uhhh, I’m not sure they're gonna pass muster for safety tests and Spike says that they're gonna be doing it for weeks.

O: Weeks? Just weeks!?

S: Well, I guess when you have giant alien robots doing all the heavy lifting it's not that bad but rather they shouldn’t be putting those back together, anyway. They should really just make new ones at this point because planes have a lot of safety requirements-

O: Yeeeaaaah.

S: -and stuff. Uh, I don't think anyone's gonna want to be in those planes.

O: I wouldn't blame them and join us next time for episode 27: Microbots! Get ready for a fantastic journey, into Megatron???

S: Oh, it's into a world of imagination.

O: Like nothing you’ve ever seen. Also Perceptor! It is a Perceptor episode and I am delighted.

S: Yessss.

O: Also fuck Brawn.

S: And we have some fanfic for today but I think Owls’ gets to be the one to give the recommendations.

O: So, I've mentioned this before, but I have a whole uh, sheet of fics, just in case Specs forgets to do the fics. And Specs forgot to do the fics, so I get to do it today.

S: A lot- A lot of stuff happened recently.

O: It's been a busy month, guys, it has been so busy. I am so tired. The first recommendation is “Quiet” by LittleMissSweetgrass. Continuity is IDW, the rating is G. It is slash, because it is Cosmos/Soundwave. Our characters are Soundwave and Cosmos, and “Soundwave gets a virus and suddenly it is very loud.” It's a one shot. It is part of a series. It is very short but cute and uh, Coswave is one of my favourite ships ever, which is why they got added to this because it doesn't exist in G1 and I’m well aware it doesn't exist in G1 so I was, like, look I gotta put ‘em somewhere.

O: And then our other one is “Here Be Monsters” by Lush_Specimen. Continuity is IDW, it's G, its slash, it has Hoist/Trailcutter, Rodimus/Thunderclash, and uh, Minimus Ambus/Megatron- Our characters are Megatron, Hoist, Rodimus, Thunderclash, Riptide, and Minimus Ambus. In summary, “A late-night visit from Hoist forces Megatron to confront the overwhelming personal tragedies created by his legacy of violence. As he contemplates the long reaching consequences of his words he begins to wonder if he truly deserves a second chance.” This is multi-chapter but it has been completed. Um, it's just kind of nice. I'm always- I'm always here for ah, Lost Light Megatron actually having to think about things and being forced to consider, basically, his actions. So I really like this one.

S: Nice, thank you. And that just about wraps it up for us today. Remember to check us out on Tumblr or Pillowfort as Afterspark-Podcast for any additional information, show notes, or links we may have mentioned. You can also find us on Facebook and Twitter @AftersparkPod (all one word), and various other locations by searching for, “Afterspark Podcast,” such as AO3, iTunes, Google Podcasts, Stitcher, and Youtube, just to name a few. Until next time, I'm Specs.

O: And I'm Owls.

S: Toodles!

[Outro Music]

#afterspark podcast #transcript #g1 episode 26

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peterjonesparker · 7 years

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i got tagged by @spideyxchelle. which, i’m not gonna lie, i freaked out because i’m totally obsessed with their headcanons.

rules: answer these 85 statements and tag 20 people.

I tag: @accioharry, @bellamywarriorblake, @happilyminiaturetastemaker, @jugghead-jonez, @raejustrae, @restinlinguine, @transpeter, @tomhollandcouk, @leslipigeonoficial, @geniusparker, @parkrpeters, @peterprakers, @captainkirkk, @cassianscamanders, @perhalta, @khaleesinthenorth, @casuallywhatever, @wreenbiinee, @dorkynikki, @emmalozzy

the last

1. drink: a mixture of root beer and cream soda because i went to dinner with my dad and they had fancy soda things.

2. phone call: my mom! she wanted to see if her phone was working so she called me to check.

3. text message: my sister, to tell her that she isn’t funny. which is a lie, because she’s very funny.

4. song you listened to: in cold blood by alt-j. i’m making peter parker and michelle jones playlists because i am trash for spiderman: homecoming. that song is for peter’s!

5. time you cried: goodness. uh, i cried about a week ago i think? last thursday was a tough day haha.

6. dated someone twice: lol, no.

7. kissed someone and regretted it: most definitely.

8. been cheated on: nope!

9. lost someone special: yes. in more ways than one.

10. been depressed: i’m honestly not really sure. i had a really tough time for a bit in high school and this past year was really tough on me. but i’m not sure if what i went through can be classified as depression.

11. gotten drunk and thrown up: unfortunately. but i’ve only ever been hung over twice so it was really a fluke accident.

3 favourite colours

12. green

13. blue

14. brown? i’ve never had to choose a third favorite color, but i’m a really big fan of earthy colors.

in the last year have you

15. made new friends: yes!

16. fallen out of love: nope!

17. laughed until you cried: i’m sure i have, i just can’t remember exactly.

18. found out someone was talking about you: i’m not sure the context of this question, but fun story: once i was at the dining hall and my roommate from my first year in college was talking about me. “i really like having my own room. don’t get my wrong. i loved living with sarah. she was the best.” and i looked at her friend and laughed and she turned around and was like, oh wow! hello!

19. met someone who changed you: i’ve definitely met people who have made me question the way i think about things and decisions i’ve made, but i think, honestly, this past summer i’ve kind of had to reverse changes i think? like, i think some of my friends changed the way i did things, but i don’t think it was for the best.

20. found out who your friends are: LOL. yes. i’ve had a lot of tough experiences with friendships this year that just put a lot of things into perspective. as i said, this past year was really tough.

21. kissed someone on your Facebook list: yes? if that means friends on facebook, then yes.

general

22. how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: i’ve met all of them in real life but some only once.

23. do you have any pets: i used to :(

24. do you want to change your name: i really like my name, actually!

25. what did you do for your last birthday: i had a party with my friends! two of my friends and i have birthdays within four days, so we had a joint birthday party. it was like, the most fun party i’ve ever been to. probably because i knew everyone there!

26. what time did you wake up: 6:45. i had an 8 am appointment this morning before work, and traffic is a nightmare!

27. what were you doing at midnight last night: getting into bed? i went to bed around that time, i think.

28. name something you can’t wait for: retirement? but something sooner: my sister is getting back from a study abroad program this sunday! she’s been gone for six weeks, and i’m really excited to see her.

29. when was the last time you saw your mom: this morning. i’m working at home this summer.

31. what are you listening to right now: nothing because my computer is a pile of shit and the speakers just stop working and then sometimes they do and then they just stop again and it’s incredibly frustrating.

32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: my mom’s ex boyfriend is named thomas?

33. something that is getting on your nerves: a friend.

34. most visited website: tumblr? probably right now. but ao3 is a close second.

35. hair colour: brown

36. long or short hair: shoulder length?

37. do you have a crush on someone: i don’t think so. you’d think i would know, but it’s complicated haha. but i’m pretty sure i don’t.

38. what do you like about yourself: i think of myself as a kind person. i also think i’m fairly smart, so i like that about myself, too.

39. piercings: none! i’m really scared of needles, lol.

40. blood type: o positive, i think? pretty sure it’s some lame blood type that only receives other blood types that are the same. but i’m not the super rare o blood type (i think negative?) that can ONLY receive o negative. but i’m also not AB positive which will accept literally ANY BLOOD. i’m also not bitter. clearly.

41. nickname: my boss at school is also named sarah so one of my coworkers calls me sarah junior.

42. relationship status: single, lol. i don’t have that kind of time.

43. zodiac: aquarius!

44. pronouns: she/her

45. favourite tv show: oof. i really like brooklyn nine nine. shadowhunters is entertaining. the 100 was like, my favorite for a while, but i’m peeved at how jason has treated the characters, so less so now.

46. tattoos: again, scared of needles haha.

47. right or left handed: right

48. surgery: fortunately, no.

50. sport: currently? nah. though i do intramurals in college. but i used to play basketball and i used to surf. i also used to do gymnastics and play tennis and golf. lol, i’ve been all over the place.

51. vacation: i visited my aunt in texas this summer! i also went to joshua tree with my friend, so that was super cool.

52. pair of trainers: uh, i have two pairs of shoes that i wear pretty regularly. but one of them is more like, an oxford type shoe?

GENERAL

53. eating: just got dinner at a sandwich place with my dad.

54. drinking: water. i really like water a lot.

55. I’m about to: go to the gym! i like going on the ellipticals because it makes me feel like a 40 year old mom and that is my aesthetic™. but also i haven’t worked out in a long time and i injured my foot really badly like three months ago and it’s still recovering. so it’s nice to be able to be active sometimes.

56. waiting for: my phone to charge so i can play some hype music while i ascend into my true form as a 40 year old mom.

57. want: my foot to heal so i don’t have to limp around when i sit for too long or do my exercises for 30 minutes every day -_-

58. get married: if i find the right person, yeah, i think so. i like the idea of having a companion to share things with.

59. career: currently i’m in school, but in the future? i’m probably going to end up going to medical school and becoming a doctor, but part of me would love to be able to work in the film industry as like a screenwriter or something. or be an author.

WHICH IS BETTER

60. hugs or kisses: hugs

61. lips or eyes: oof. eyes, i think.

62. shorter or taller: probably taller? i’m fairly short, so shorter than me would be less common i think? though, there are girls shorter than me...so maybe. hmmm. i’ll just say taller because generally i’ve been attracted to taller people.

63. older or younger: older. though i think i have like a bubble around my age i think would be okay. but not too much younger. i’m not that old myself.

64. nice arms or nice stomach: arms

65. hookup or relationship: relationship

66. troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant? idk, i’m probably hesitant so maybe i’m just projecting.

HAVE YOU EVER:

67. kissed a stranger: yes and it was not fun. drunk people do not kiss very well.

68. drank hard liquor: lol, yes.

69. lost glasses/contact lenses: don’t wear them.

70. turned someone down: yes.

71. sex on the first date: nah, i don’t think that’s for me. honestly, kind of scared of physical intimacy.

73. had your heart broken: don’t think so.

74. been arrested: nah.

75. cried when someone died: yes.

76. fallen for a friend: lol, literally just @me right now. yes. it was very sad and i don’t think i was given the best advice/comfort in regard to those feelings. it was a weird time.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

77. yourself: sometimes!

78. miracles: i believe in fate, i think.

79. love at first sight: probably not, haha.

80. santa claus: nah, figured that one out fairly quickly.

81. kiss on the first date: probably not? i’ve never been on a date soooo...

82. angels: hmmmm, maybe. i don’t know. probably not like...christian bible kind of angels. but again, i think i believe in something in the universe guiding things. idk man, it’s weird.

OTHER:

84. eye colour: brown! described as both poop and chocolate, lol.

85. favourite movie: pride and prejudice. every time i watch it, it makes me so happy. and it’s just...stunning.

#personal #these are super cute and i was super excited to be tagged in it lol #also if i tagged you and have not talked to you/don't know you #hello!#i realized trying to tag people that i don't talk to too many people on this site #but that can always be changed!#so hello!#also fun story #legitimately i saw this on spideyxchelle's blog #and was like oh that's super cute #and then didn'T REALIZE I WAS TAGGED #for like several hours #so that was like OH MY GOODNESS #also i promise i'm writing part 8 it's just taking me a bit longer :(

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sehunpeachy · 7 years

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synchronicity | pt. 1

pt. 1 | pt. 2

(n) a concept which holds that events are “meaningful coincidences” if they occur with no causal relationship yet seem to be meaningfully related

⇒pairing: jungkook x reader

⇒genre: mostly fluff with a bit of angst, smut in next chapter

⇒length: 8.6k

⇒summary: your new neighbor is annoying, espicially since you constantly keep running into him somehow

a/n: lowkey inspired by runaway by @jungkxook, my favourite fic ever. i decided to leave it as a series rather than a oneshot just to torture u guys (｀∀´)Ψ

“And,” you say with your breath almost giving out, plopping the heavy cardboard box onto the nearest kitchen surface, “that’s all of it. Thanks.”

“No problem,” the household mover stretched his body and you hear it crack. “You know where to send the money, right?”

You sigh, forgetting you have to pay for the service. “Yeah, yeah,” swatting your hand and begin to shuffle some of the boxes around to try and distract the man away from your hesitant tone.

“Great. Good luck on your new place,” he says and begins walking to the door.

“Thanks again,” you say and he waves his hand in response, closing the door on the way out.

The floor is scattered with boxes, making it difficult to move around. The sole window provided little light into the apartment, but you don’t really mind. You’re more of a night person anyways.

Your body collapses on the sheetless mattress of your bed, the only piece of furniture you brought along with you. You try not to let your mind wander on all the work you’re going to have to do once you wake up from your prompt yet desperately-needed nap.

Your eyelids are weighed down with jetlag and you want to do is let them rest. They’re fluttering close when you remember how you have to start your new job tomorrow, and more importantly how early you have to get up in the morning. “Shit,” you hiss but nonetheless continue rolling around to find a comfortable position.

You wake up to your alarmingly loud stomach, and you check your phone to see that only an hour passed by. You saw a bar close to the building whilst you were driving, and you were definitely in the mood for something greasy. Fixing your hair and checking your outfit took you less than a minute before you were out the door. You pack into the elevator, happy it’s empty, and press for the ground floor.

As the doors are shutting, you suddenly see the door right across swing open, almost in a panicked manner.

“Wait!” There is a man, dressed up in a plain button up shirt a nicely fitted pair of pants, and his hand is up. Your breath is slightly winded as you quickly press the button to keep the doors open. The man begins running towards the elevator before he remembers the door to his apartment is wide open, and scatters back to lock it.

He makes you chuckle and you hide it once he’s inside the elevator, holding his knees and catching his breath.

“Whew, thanks for keeping the doors open,” he says, looking up at you.

“It’s no big deal,” you say, because it really isn’t. You give his face a quick glance as he straightens up, still panting.

He’s attractive, and luckily around your age. His hair was nicely styled as a fringe and his doe eyes were a deep chocolate brown. And wow, he had great lips. Soft and plush. “Ground floor, right?”

“Yeah,” he replies, breathless.

The doors close and you’re engulfed in this small space with this intriguing stranger, the air growing tense in the static silence. “Where are you going?” You ask him as you take in his outfit that seems a little too formal for a Sunday afternoon.

“I have a date,” he raises his eyebrows at that and smiles, fixing the collars of his shirt.

“Wow,” is all you say. You eye him up and down once he’s no longer looking at you. Whoever this date is, they’re lucky. “Somewhere fancy?”

He laughs as the doors open. “You can say that.” He lets you walk out first and holds the door of the building open. You shoot him a quick smile as a ‘thank you’ before you’re met with the harsh gust of wind from the outdoors, wishing you wore a heavier outfit.

The bar only took a few minutes to reach and you’re thankful you have a source of food and alcohol so close to you. A dark red fluorescence greets you as you enter the doors and the smell of whiskey and body heat enters your nostrils. There are only a few people inside, and most of them are wistfully drinking on their own. You’re glad. You hate the pressure of socializing.

You order a club sandwich with a gin-and-tonic on the side. Then you keep ordering more drinks. And more. And more. It doesn’t take long for you to start stumbling around and your vision to blur. The taste of the alcohol on your tastebuds shakes the jetlag from your body and replaces it with drowsiness, the latter more preferable.

“Come back anytime,” the bartender says, amused with your drunken state. He waves you out as you drag yourself back to your apartment building. Now that you were in the dark and alone, the only light source being the streetlights illuminating a dim yellow on your footsteps and the deep blue moonlight, you realized how bad of an idea it was to consume alcohol before your first day of work.

You’re back in the elevators, grateful you’re almost in your bed before you remember all the unpacked boxes awaiting your return. You close your eyes and rest your head against the wall, a mixture of relief and dread washing over your brain.

The doors are about to close, when the same man from before appears.

Your senses are woken up as you press the open button for the second time today, and for the same person. The situation brings you some amusement, but apparently not to him. He looks different, his body slumped over like his feet have to drag the rest of him along.

He walks into the elevator, right next to you, and leans back so his head bashes against the wall. Your body catches the vibrations the contact gives off and you flinch.

“You okay?” You ask, concern above your tipsy state.

He’s silent for a while. “She stood me up,” he answers, closing his eyes.

“Wow,” you say again, like it’s the only response you can think of around him. “Sorry about that.”

You feel a sliver of sympathy when he doesn’t respond, so you keep on talking. “Why would anybody stand up a guy like you? You’re so attractive. I would date you. Like…no joke. You’re hot.”

He finally looks up at you, and starts laughing. “I can smell the alcohol on your breathe from a mile away, so I’m not gonna trust anything you say.”

“Just cuss I’m drunk doesn’t mean anything,” you reply with your words slurring, holding onto the bars for support.

“Tomorrow is a Monday, are you aware of that?” The stranger says again, still smiling but changing the subject.

“Shit,” you curse as the doors open and the washed out yellow light of the corridor falls inside the elevator. You suddenly feel agitated at the stranger for reminding you and interrupting your alcohol-fueled blissfulness.

“Do you need help getting your door unlocked?” He asks as you both pour out of the doors. You scoff at him as a response and he chuckles. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you snap and you hear him stifle a laugh. You get to your door, the keys between your fingers fumbling around awkwardly and for whatever reason, you can’t get them through the lock.

“I told you you need help,” you hear him say a few feet away, his door already successfully unlocked.

“I’ll just sleep outside,” you say, slumping against the wall.

“Don’t be so stubborn,” he responds with another chuckle at the back of his throat, taking the keys from your hand and unlocking the door for you.

“Whatever,” you trail off, snatching the keys back from his hands and dragging yourself inside.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way. You probably won’t remember,” he says, looking into your apartment, still smiling. You don’t say anything as you immediately fall onto your bed and into a deep sleep, him closing the door for you.

It’s 6:50 am, and you’re hungover and late. You rise against your will and dreadfully lift yourself up from the comfort of your bed, almost falling to the floor as you navigate your way past the packed boxes and towards your pile of work clothes.

You brush your hair through your fingers and wash off yesterdays makeup to replace it with a new coat of mascara and a deep red lipstick. Simple enough.

You lock your apartment with your keys with one hand, the other gripping the the strap of your bag, when you hear a door swing open a few feet away. Great, you thought. You turn towards him, tired of all the coincidences you seem to run into with him.

Jungkook finishes locking his door when he notices you standing there, looking expectantly at him. “Wow, it’s like destiny wants us to ride the same elevator,” he comments and you stifle a groan. You don’t remember everything about last night, but what doesn’t leave your mind was how annoying he was.

“Destiny is a myth,” you respond, missing his eyes as you walk to the elevator.

“Going off to work?” He asks. A ray of sunlight hit his pupil and his eyes looked like honey, lighter than the first time you saw him.

“Doesn’t my formal attire give that away?”

“I don’t know. You look hungover,” he says, pressing the button for you. You pack inside, lowering your gaze at him.

“You’re charming,” you snap as the doors close.

“You said a lot more last night,” he says, leaning on his forearm and staring at you suggestively.

“I don’t remember anything last night,” you say and it’s not the full-truth.

“Do you remember my name at least?” He acts offended, but you can hear it in his voice he finds it amusing.

“Jung something,” you say just to mess with him.

“…kook,” he finishes for you and the doors open.

“Yeah yeah,” you say, not bothering to look back, but then you do. Just because he looks so good in that simple suit.

“I’ll see you later…?”

“Y/N. You’re a smooth guy.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook says as he holds the building doors open for you. “I’ll see you around, Y/N. Maybe in the elevator again.” He walks out into the parking lot and to his car, his car keys jingling in the air.

“Sure,” you mutter as you make your way to the commute, not sure if he heard you and wishing you could afford your own car.

The work office is small and covered in white. You got your own desk, which is better than what you had back in your hometown. You stare at your laptop, hardly making sense of the pixels in front of you, alcohol still washing around in your system.

You decide to aimlessly check your email and immediately regret it when you see an email urging you to pay for the household movers. You try not to curse, hoping to forget about your bank right now.

You shut your laptop, wanting some kind of refreshment. You head to the water cooler to pour yourself a cup. The water is cold, soothing your throat, and it tastes even better than when you’re sober.

You stay standing for a while, greeting a few of your co-workers as they pass by, hoping they don’t notice the dark circles under your eyes, before heading back to your desk.

“No way.”

You turn around, and is once again met with the same face you’ve seen for about a thousand times since you moved in yesterday. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you say, your arms going limp by your sides and your body shifting to one leg.

“Destiny really likes us, huh?” Jungkook asks, throwing his elbow over a cubicle wall with a cocked eyebrow.

“There’s no such thing,” you reply, already turning your heel away. “Just a coincidence.”

To your surprise, he follows you. “Four times in a row? That’s pretty unlikely.”

“A lot of unlikely things happen in this world. This is nothing special,” you grumble as you take the seat in your desk and open your laptop.

“Is that what you really think?” He hangs above your cubicle, fingers reaching out to play with the edges of your laptop. “Or do you just think I’m annoying?”

You move the laptop out of his reach. “Both.”

He laughs. “I won’t bother you anymore, promise. Unless destiny interferes again, which is very likely.” With that, he leaves but not before ruffling your hair, to your dismay. You scoff, turning down the brightness of your screen to use as a mirror and attempt to fix it.

You commute your way back to your apartment building, slightly wishing Jungkook had offered you a ride instead. Mostly because you’d rather sit inside a nicely conditioned car rather than a stuffed train, but a little because you honestly wouldn’t mind seeing his face again.

You stand in your apartment, just finishing unpacking each box and rearranging your items around. There was still something missing.

You needed a sofa.

You suddenly hear a knock at your door. “I swear…” You murmur, but nonetheless swing the door open.

“I know I said I wouldn’t bother you,” Jungkook starts to say and you cock your head to the side, “but the mailman sent a letter to the wrong door.” He shows a letter, ripped open already.

“And how do you know it’s mine?” You ask, your tone practically oozing with irritation.

“It’s a letter urging to pay for a house mover service.”

“And you just assume it’s mine because you think I’m broke?” You ask, taking the piece of paper from his hand anyways.

“Because you just moved in,” Jungkook answered and he laughs at the change of expression on your face. “But you’re saying you are broke?”

You sigh, tired of the act you’re putting up around him and you walk back in your apartment to clean up some of the boxes arrayed around the floor. “Yeah. I am.”

He walks into your apartment, looking around to absorb the surroundings. “Are you missing something?” He asks.

“A sofa,” you answer, leaning against your kitchen counters.

“Oh yeah, I see it now.”

You lean forward to pull your fridge doors open, only to remember you haven’t bought any groceries yet. You groan, and Jungkook looks towards you.

“Hungry?”

“Don’t ask me out,” you say before he utters another word, putting up a finger. He laughs at that.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” he replied, resting his hand on the kitchen counter next to you. “I’m just saying you could have some food from my fridge. You look tired.”

This man really did confuse you. You don’t know when to thank him or yell at him. “Stop commenting on how I look. And if it’s anything that’s not drenched in oil, I’ll go to the supermarket myself.”

“I have some leftover Chinese take away,” he says and your face lights up at the words. “One sec.” He leaves and comes back a minute later with a cold Chinese takeaway box, the contents filled to the brim with untouched noodles and fried vegetables.

“You haven’t even eaten it,” you comment, taking the box from him, not needing to say thank you because you know he knows.

“It was supposed to be for me and my date.”

You look up at him in surprise, maybe to see if he looked hurt. He didn’t, but you were never sure with him. You walk to your bed, fumbling with your bedsheets before taking a seat, suddenly uncomfortable with the mention of his date.

“Well,” you start to say, breaking the silence, “whoever she is, she doesn’t deserve you if she stood you up like that.” He doesn’t respond, so you continue. “So, in retrospect, you should be glad she didn’t show up.”

Jungkook still doesn’t say anything and you’re afraid you’ve made a mistake, that is before he catches your eyes and sends you a timid smile. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

He closes the door for you, enveloping you in the silence of your apartment. You’re all of a sudden unsure of whether you messed up whatever you had with Jungkook up until this point or not. You really hope you hadn’t.

“Hey, Jungkook?”

He looks up, and this is the first time you initiate conversation. It’s the middle of working hours and he had been sitting in his desk, a cup of dark-roast coffee between his lips and his hair slightly disarrayed.

“Could you please do a favor for me?” You asked, your voice straining from your words and your insides turn from how polite you force yourself to sound.

“Anything,” he replies, leaning back in his chair and you push back a smile.

“I need to borrow your car.”

“For?”

“My sofa.”

He chuckles, and anything affectionate you were feeling in that moment was quickly washed away.

“What are you laughing at?”

“You don’t want to pay for a mover service?”

“For god’s sake—”

“Why are you always so feisty?” Jungkook interrupts, a smirk practically dripping with amusement forms on his face. “I’m just asking.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you say, placing a hand over your forehead because you knew if this was a conversation with anybody else, it wouldn’t be this long and headache inducing. “It’s that I can’t.”

“So you want to borrow my car, throw your sofa on top, and drag it all the way upstairs into your apartment?” His tone was so undermining that your hands began to massage the space between your eyebrows.

You let out a dramatic and drawn out sigh and Jungkook laughs. “Yes.”

“Fine,” he says and you widen your eyes to look at him, in disbelief that this conversation had to be so exasperating if he had such a simple answer. “But I’m coming with.”

You groan and makes sure he hears it. As attractive as you find him, you were looking forward to a solidary and relaxing day, but you quickly realize you have no choice. “Fine.”

Jungkook’s mouth twitches into a smile. “Looking forward to it,” he comments and you hope he’s being sarcastic.

“Whatever. Saturday afternoon, and be ready,” you say, walking away before you got any more annoyed.

“I like the taupe one,” you say, your hand on your chin and your head cocked to the side.

“Taupe?”

“Like grey-brown.”

“You should get the leather one,” Jungkook says, pointing towards the sofa on the right.

“Leather is so tacky,” you say, frowning at his choice.

“I have a leather sofa,” he says, offended yet laughing.

“Even more reasons not to get it,” you reply and even you let out a giggle.

You walk further forward to check the price tag and make sure Jungkook is out of view when you do. It’s a reasonable price for such a small piece, but your wallet aches nonetheless.

“Too expensive?”

You quickly stand up, frustration painting your face. “I’m not as poor as you think I am.”

Jungkook puts up both hands in defence, his eyes wide. “I didn’t mean it like that,” and you nod sarcastically. “I could pay for you, that’s all.”

“I’m not going to use you for your money,” you say, even though the offer is tempting. “Just your car.”

He laughs. “Fair enough.”

“Okay, lift!” You say, grunting as your arms almost give out. Jungkook lifts with you, but doesn’t look as winded as you do. You suddenly drop your side, muscles cracking and a loud thud echoes throughout the parking lot as the legs of the sofa came in contact with the grit of the floor.

“You good?” Jungkook asks.

You exhale, ignoring his question and lifting the furniture back up.

“Okay, back, back, back, stop,” Jungkook directed and you both slowly let it down. “Alright, now you go from the side and make sure it’s titled the right way.”

You follow his orders, both lifting up the sofa again and slightly turning it so it fit in the expanse of Jungkook’s car.

“You keep pushing,” you say as you let go. “I’ll pull it from inside.”

“Good idea,” Jungkook says and his voice strains a bit. After a few more minutes of pushing and pulling and lifting, the sofa was finally fully inside.

You load yourself into the passenger seat and Jungkook suitely follows in the driver seat. “We work well as a team,” he says, grinning brightly.

You turn towards him, and you can’t deny it. He’s really cute. His warm brown eyes are wide, almost filled with a childlike excitement, something you haven’t seen around for a long time, and his lips are glistening even in the dull lit environment.

“Thanks for the help,” you turn away, hoping he doesn’t catch how you don’t respond to his earlier comment.

“Work’s not done yet. We have to get back without being stopped by the cops, then we have to figure out how fit it in the elevator.”

You sigh, but you’re grateful for the time to rest your muscles as he revs up his engine. You see his hand go to turn the station on in the corner of your eye and a song comes on. Your hand reaches out to turn the knob and increase the volume.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, looking at you as he turns a corner and then lowers the volume.

A grimace forms on your face and you increase the volume again. “What are you, an old man?”

He doesn’t say anything, and instead blankly stares at you before lowering it again. “I want to keep my sense of hearing for a bit longer.” You groan at his words and give up. Silence engulfed the car, louder than the dimly-heard radio.

“Fine, you win.” Jungkook reaches out and increases the volume.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you say, slightly giggly. His eyes shift as he changes lanes, then quickly gives you a glance.

“I don’t like you being mad,” he replies with a smile and it catches you off guard.

“Funny since you’re the main source,” you joke. He doesn’t reply and you turn the music down for him. “I’m not really mad,” you say, straightening in your seat and looking down to your lap, then in front of you. “I just act like it.”

He slows down at a red light and it gives him a perfect opportunity to turn to you. He’s looking your face up and down, from your chin to your forehead and back down again. “You’re a weird person.”

“At least I’m not an old man,” you say and the tension in the air disappears.

“Right. Glad we’re both functioning adults here,” Jungkook says and you hit his shoulder lightly. “Hey, I’m driving!”

“You’re at a redlight.”

“Still counts as driving.”

“I think this elevator is too small for this sofa,” Jungkook says, his hands on his hips.

“What are you talking about? It would fit in perfectly,” you argue.

“And how will we both fit in with it?”

“Who said anything about all three of us going in at the same time?” You say, your head tilted.

“So now the sofa is a person?” Jungkook laughs and you can’t help but smile too. He presses for the button and then drags the sofa against the doors to block it from closing. “I’ll go in first with it, then you come up later to help me.”

“It would be easier if we’re both upstairs when the sofa is, so let me go up first and then you come with the sofa.”

“That doesn’t make sense, it’s just wasting time.”

“What are you even talking about? It’s logical.”

“Let’s just get the sofa up first and then—”

“Jungkook, you really make me want to—”

Suddenly, Jungkook loses eye contact with you to look behind you. You frown in response but before you could see what he’s looking at, he pulls you back towards him.

“Shush! Get the sofa in!” He hisses and you don’t hesitate to follow his words, maybe because of how frantic he sounded. “Quick, quick!” He whispers, dragging the piece of furniture inside at an angle so it’s facing forward. Jungkook then grabs your shoulders and shoves you inside.

“Hey!” You say but he is squishing inside as well and pressing for the floor, his face riddled with panic. The doors close quickly, but it requires you both to shuffle around so your feet aren’t sticking out.

There is little space in the small, crowded elevator and your heart’s still racing. You look up at him, his body only a few inches away from yours, and it’s a mistake. He’s already looking at you, and your breathes mix together as the space between you seemingly becomes less and less.

You realize it’s because he’s leaning into you. Your body freezes where it is, not wanting to pull away or lean in because both options would change everything you have with him.

You’re sure he can hear how fast and rapid your heart is going, or how your breathing staggers for a second. His face is so close to yours and his eyes are boring into your own. You feel the heat emitting from his face as your eyes wander to his lips.

To your relief, the elevator doors open and it feels like you can breathe again. You swiftly decide to brush off whatever just happened because it’s the easiest thing to do.

“Okay, quick,” you say as you exit the elevator and begin to pull at the sofa. “Grab the other end.”

Jungkook looks stunned and it’s like his being is frozen momentarily. After a few seconds, he follows your orders but exchanges no words. You unlock your door and swing it wide open to allow the sofa through before both lifting and pushing it in, guiding Jungkook where to place it down.

“Whew,” you say, wiping your forehead. “Done!” You fall onto your sofa, adrenaline still rushing through you and you nervously hope your high energy makes Jungkook forget. “What did you see back there?”

Jungkook still hasn’t said anything, and the question makes him hunch his shoulders and place his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Oh, nothing. Thought I saw something in the dark outside,” he answers, but he’s not looking at you.

You laugh and decide not to push the subject any further, knowing he’s lying to you. “Thanks for the help, really.”

“No problem,” he says and shoots you a small smile before leaving. You want to say something, you don’t know what, just something, but he’s already closing the door behind him.

Your alarm goes off at 6:30 but you only leave your house at 6:50, hoping to run into Jungkook. You can’t pinpoint the reason why. Things didn’t exactly end smoothly yesterday. But you want to see him, whether to ask him for the full truth or just for the sake of seeing him.

You don’t meet him rushing out of his door or when you’re waiting for the elevator or when you’re downstairs either. For whatever reason, you’re constantly waiting for him to somehow show up, like he always does, but he doesn’t.

You’re about to press yourself past the parking lot when you see Jungkook waiting outside. His built body is leaning against the driver door of his car, his arms crossed and his left eyebrow raised.

“Y/N.”

“Jungkook.”

“Need a ride?” You laugh.

“I can’t turn that down,” you answer, smiling. These are no longer coincidences. This is him doing this for you.

“Were you scared you weren’t running into me?” He asks as you slide into the passenger seat. “Destiny gave up on us?”

“You’re really obsessed with yourself, aren’t you?” You ask, rolling your eyes as you put your seatbelt on, but he’s not wrong. He just chuckles in response and turns the radio up high. You turn it down. “It’s fine, I don’t mind if it’s quiet.”

He looks at you, and there’s a gleam in his eyes. You can’t make out what it means, but when can you ever?

You unpack your lunch and it’s a mistake because Jungkook walks right next to your cubicle as you do. “Is that a salad?”

You sigh deeply. “Yes. It actually is.”

“Since when do you eat salads?”

“Since today, Jungkook.”

He leans over the wall, resting his head on his arms and he’s looking at you lopsided. “Did somebody comment on your weight?”

You roll your eyes dramatically on purpose and it makes you sneak in a smile. “No. Are you planning on doing that?”

He grabs his chest in a fake shock. “I would never. You look great as it is.”

You brush off the flirting completely, bending down to look for a spare fork.

“Let’s have lunch together,” Jungkook suggests, lifting his head up.

“I’m not moving,” you say honestly, not wanting to leave the comforts of your cubicle. It’s his time to roll his eyes.

“You’re so difficult,” he comments, standing up and walking back to his desk.

Your insides sink at his words as you watch him leave. Maybe you should stop being so cold to people. You can’t help it sometimes, it just comes naturally to you.

Then you see him, rolling a chair down the work office and plopping himself down as it nears your cubicle. He swings his body to the side so the chair rolls up right next to you, crashing into you gently and it makes you giggle.

In his hand was a sandwich and he sees you eyeing it. “You want my sandwich?”

You see no reason to lie, knowing you would have to eat this salad you forced yourself to buy no matter what you answer. You nod in response and he hands it to you.

“Take it. I’ll eat your salad. Only if it has croutons, though.”

You grin and your heart swells. “We’re both in luck then.” You hand him your lunch and he hands you his.

“Only one of us is slightly luckier,” he trails off, observing the contents of the salad. He picks up a single crouton and throws it into his mouth. “That’s the only good part.”

“So save it for last,” you say, moving your chair so your outstretched leg lightly hits his.

“Save the best things for last, huh?” Jungkook says, raising one eyebrow. You try to look at him but then your cheeks heat up so you look back down at his sandwich, taking a huge bite.

“Is this turkey?”

“Why?” He questions.

“I love turkey.”

“Me too. That’s why I made it,” Jungkook says, trying to chew a piece of lettuce. He looks cute, like a bunny.

“Take a bite,” you suggest, moving the sandwich to poke at his lips. He takes a bite, and then closes his eyes as if to savor the flavor.

“I really love turkey,” he says and you giggle.

“Let’s make a deal. I’ll eat half of the salad after you do,” you say, rolling your neck around. “Then I’ll save you half of this sandwich.”

“It’s a deal,” Jungkook replies, his hand out to initiate a handshake. You take it, laughing from how corny the act is. His palm is soft and so much bigger than yours, making engulfing your hand in his easy if you were to hold it.

He finishes his half and you finish yours, laughing as you switch your food between each other.

“Why did the turkey cross the road?” Jungkook asks, taking a big bite of his sandwich. You groan and don’t respond, hoping you don’t have to hear the punchline.

“To show it wasn’t chicken,” he responds anyways and you smack your head against your desk in distaste. “Come on! Did you at least smile?”

“I feel like my lunch is coming back up.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. That’s not even the best one—”

“Enough,” you say, piling some lettuce onto your fork regrettably.

Minutes pass but it doesn’t seem like it. When lunch break is over, you wished it could go on for a bit longer.

He rubs his hands together to get rid of any crumbs and you begin to complain that he’s doing it right in your cubicle.

“When does your shift end?” Jungkook asks.

“At 3:15,” you answer.

“Alright. My shift ends before yours. I’ll wait in the parking lot.”

He makes you smile and you nod. You don’t need to say how thankful you are, because he knows you are.

“I’ll see you soon,” he says, ruffling your hair and leaving before you yell at him.

He keeps his word, and is waiting inside his car when your shift ends. You pack into his car, hiding your grin and making sure the radio wasn’t too loud. He tells you he paid your house service for you and it was no big deal, because “it really wasn’t.” He drives you home and slings his arm around you as you’re in the elevator. You don’t push him off, and you don’t reciprocate. You do neither, because in the back of your mind, you’re scared of this friendship escalating into something.

Not because you don’t want it to. Because you’re scared of change. You were shaking when you said goodbye to your family in the airport. You were shivering as the plane took off, and you were terrified when it landed.

You don’t want whatever this thing you have with Jungkook to change, because you know if you both stay like this, he won’t leave.

The fear grows more and more each passing day, maybe because you keep psyching yourself out. Or maybe because you’re falling for him.

You entered Jungkook’s car right after the end of your shift, as usual. This routine had established around a week ago and you had already forgotten the flickering lights and musty smell of public transportation. His car smelt of lavender, which had been a pleasant surprise. He purchased a car refresher the other day. ‘Just for you’, he said and you remembered.

“How was work?” Jungkook asks, revving up the engine as you shuffled your bag around on your lap.

“Nothing special,” you respond. “What about you?”

“Nothing special,” he mimics and begins to back out of the parking space.

You laugh, shuffling your bag around a bit more. “You’re not very creative, are you?”

Neither of you say anything for a while as he drives, radio playing mildly in the background. You stare out the window, watching the scenery pass by, it slowly becoming more and more familiar to you day by day. It’s a sensation, the sensation of familiarity. You haven’t feel it in a long time.

You sit up straight when Jungkook takes a different turn, away from your apartment building. “What are you doing?” You question, slightly panicked.

Jungkook grips the steering wheel a little tighter, but when you look at him, he’s smiling. “You’ll see,” he answers, the last word trailing off.

“You’re not a serial killer, are you?” You say nervously and he chuckles. “Because if you are, I completely fell for it.”

“I’m not a serial killer. If I were, I would be the main suspect for your murder, and that wouldn’t be smart,” Jungkook answers.

“And you’re smart?”

He snorts. “Nice one.”

You cease conversation as you watch the window again, finding the buildings and structures you’ve never seen before exhilarating. This is one of the first times you’ve ever gone beyond the regular route from home to work and back, and the far more empty road allowed you to stare out more.

Jungkook took a turn and pulled in a small service road riddled with even smaller restaurants. You observed the blinking neon signs and washed out posters before he began parking. “Hope you’re hungry,” Jungkook says, releasing his seatbelt once the car was stationary. Your eyes lower at his words.

“You’re taking me out?” You say in disbelief.

“Lunch between two colleagues slash neighbors,” he rephrases. “Nothing has to be romantic. Unless you want it to be.”

You release your seatbelt as he says that and pretended the noise it made muffled his words. “I actually do happen to be hungry.”

“Good,” he replies, opening the car door. He leads you to a Chinese restaurant, the interior overthrown with a deep ruby and intricate gold details.

“So this is your main source of noodles?” You ask, both of you walking to an unoccupied table. The restaurant is compact and fit only three tables, but nobody else is inside.

“My favourite type of cuisine,” Jungkook replies, taking out a chair for you. You don’t look at him but smile anyways.

“Popular,” you say, looking around and he laughs.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” he says, handing you a menu sat on the surface of the table. “Wouldn’t you say this is creative?”

“What?” You ask, eyeing him and raising one eyebrow.

“Earlier, you said I wasn’t creative,” Jungkook says, breaking eye contact with you to read the menu.

You don’t say anything for a few seconds and it makes him look up at you again. “Are you serious—”

“Nobody thinks of having a date at a place like this,” he says, dropping the menu and leaning back in his chair. You frown.

“I wasn’t aware your ego was this fragile,” you said.

“Just say I’m creative.”

“You’re cheap.”

He grins so wide you can see his molars and it’s such a cute smile. “What do you want?”

“I think I’m in the mood for some—”

“Sweet and sour chicken?”

“Okay nevermind, I want some—”

“Hey!” Jungkook says, reaching over to lightly slap your arm and you pull away before he can, both of you giggling. “I knew we had so much in common.”

“Like what? Our timings into the elevator?” You ask, fidgeting with the edge of the menu and looking up at him through your eyelashes.

It provoked a fit of giggles from him and he orders for you, and you’re glad because ordering is your least favourite part. The food comes swiftly and you relish in the heat waves emitting from it by taking in a deep inhale.

You look up at Jungkook and he’s already staring at you, his head cocked and a smile creeping on his face. “You’re so weird.”

You sit up straight. “You don’t like to smell your food before you eat it?”

“No, because I’m not weird,” he responds, poking at a chicken piece with his plastic fork and shoving it into his mouth.

“I guess there’s two types of people in the world,” you say and you do the same, twirling it around in front of you before taking a bite.

“Weird and normal?” He says, wiping the sauce painted on his mouth away with a tissue.

“People who stop and appreciate things before them,” you start to say and you already see him rolling his eyes, “and people who don’t.”

“You think I don’t appreciate things?” He says, coaxing up a playful argument.

“I’m sure you do,” you respond, placing the rest of the chicken piece into your mouth and chewing slowly. “But just not as much as me.”

“Not everything has to be a competition,” Jungkook says, laughing.

“Says you.”

“You’re right. I hate losing,” and he smirks, making you squirm. All of a sudden, he reaches out from across the table to wipe the corner of your mouth. The fork between your fingers drop on the tablecloth but you don’t see it as your face is mere inches away from his. His gaze on you is gentle and it makes you melt in your chair.

“Sauce,” Jungkook explains, sitting back down and showing you his thumb coated in sweet and sour sauce. For a few seconds, neither of you say anything and you can feel Jungkook glow from making you speechless across the table.

“You got sauce on your tie,” you suddenly say and he looks down in shock.

“Goddamnit—” He curses, taking a tissue and wiping it erratically. You laugh and continue eating, your stomach still fluttering but you’re glad you had the last say.

You don’t know how long you spent sitting in that little restaurant with him. The two of you kept talking and talking and he kept ordering more and more. You lost track of time, and when you look outside, you see the sun is approaching setting. Glimpses of deep orange seeped into the room and it catches Jungkook’s face, making his brown eyes reflect golden rays.

“Tell me what brought you to this city,” he says, leaning back and rubbing his stomach.

“Well,” you say and you push your arms off the table to mimic him. “I really want to get into the film industry. And there was no way in hell that would be possible back in that small town.”

“Film?”

“Yeah. I’ve been writing a couple of scripts here and there, but they’re all drafts,” you say, playing with your fork stained with sauce.

“Can I read them?” He says and you knew he would ask.

“No,” you respond and he pouts. “I don’t share them with anybody.”

“You think I’m going to steal your ideas?” Jungkook asks, laughing.

“They’re not finished,” you reply and it’s the truth. You only want to show people a final product you’ve read and reread a thousand times to make sure it’s perfect.

“Well, I’ll just wait until you make it big on the screen,” he says and it makes a smile bloom on your face.

“If i make it big.”

“Don’t say that,” he says, suddenly sitting up and leaning forward on the table. “I’ve never read any of it, but I’m sure they’re incredible.”

You stare at him, frowning. “How would you be certain of that?”

“I just am,” he simply answers, patting his thighs. You smile down at your empty plate. “You always have a comeback for me, so something great must always be brewing around in that head of yours.” He reaches out to poke at the side of your hair with his finger and you giggle.

“You just always set yourself up for a comeback,” you reply.

“See?” He says, smirking. You laugh and it dies down, replacing it with a comfortable silence that sits within the room. “So,” he begins to say, “all of this is temporary?”

You flick your eyes up towards him, the question throwing you off. “What are you asking?”

“This job, this apartment—”

“I mean—” You cut him off because you realize where he’s going. He’s starting to ask if any of this means anything. “It’s not like I hate it. It’s just…not my future.”

He doesn’t reply and you know that means something when he doesn’t.

“You have dreams too, right?” You ask and it’s meant to be rhetorical.

He looks up and his expression is blank and unreadable. “Not really.”

“Oh,” you say because you don’t know what else to say. You realize he’s nothing like you thought. He has a car and enough cash to never worry about paying the rent, neat and always on time. He had it together and you didn’t, so why wouldn’t he have dreams for something bigger in this city than this tiny life he had built?

“I have nothing going on for me, so I try my hardest with this dead-end job,” he says, swimming past your gaze on him as he focuses on a corner in the room.

You shake your head. “I don’t believe that. You try hard because that’s just how you are, not because you have nothing better to do.” You pause to make sure he’s fine with what you’re saying. “You always want to come out on top, whether it’s about your day job or the radio volume.”

Jungkook laughs, bowing his head to the floor. “Are we still hung up about that volume situation?”

“Let me finish,” you said with your finger up and he grins. “You just haven’t found what you love yet. You’ll find it eventually. I promise.”

“What if I already found it?”

Your tongue can’t seem to form words for a second and your lungs momentarily give out. When you meet his dark eyes, they’re boring into yours. There’s no hint of amusement in his face, like he’s getting pleasure from watching you squirm, so he must be serious.

“Well,” you finally say and placing your hands on the table in front of you, “you should chase it then.”

His mouth twitches slightly at your words and it sets your heart aflame. “I’ll get the bill,” he clears his throat and directs the subject somewhere else, like he always does. You nod at the floor, lifting your hands off the table to settle on your lap, the atmosphere tight.

“Let’s get back home,” you say, standing up once he paid and stuffing his wallet back in his pocket.

“You say that like we’re married,” he says, following you out and your eyes roll like they had a mind of their own. “You would be a terrible wife,” he said, tapping his index finger on his chin.

“No I wouldn’t!” You protest and he chuckles. No words are exchanged as you pack into his car. “Okay, maybe I wouldn’t be the best,” you admitted and he throws his head back, you shortly following him in his laughter. You can hardly see him in the dim light of his car but it’s heart pounding nonetheless.

He drives back, leading you out of the car and all the way to the front of your apartment, holding onto his stomach as if to soothe it. “I ate too much,” he comments and you could relate.

“My scale will hear about this,” you say, leaning on your door frame and he smiles, following your actions.

“So will mine.”

Neither of you say anything, but you’ve learnt to be okay with silences. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kook.” You push yourself off and begin unlocking your door.

“Kook?” He asks, raising one eyebrow.

“I just made it up,” you respond, focusing your attention on your door because you know your heart rate would quicken if you look at him.

“I like it,” he replied, staring at you as if to provoke eye contact.

“Get used to it, then,” you say as you push your door open and he straightens up. “See you—”

Then he’s kissing you.

His eyes are firmly shut as he moved his mouth against yours so softly. His hand goes to cup the side of your face and the touch makes your sides tingle and your fingers twitch. Then, like something possess your being, your eyes flutter close and you place your hand over his, reciprocating in the contact and molding your lips over his.

He reacts immediately by going to grip your waist and it makes you sigh into the kiss. You loved his lips, but you still had no idea of how good they would feel against your own. Until now. Suddenly, he pulls away but his hands are still on your waist and on your cheek.

“Wow,” you whisper, like it’s the only thing you can say around him.

“See you tomorrow,” he says, smiling as he slips away to his apartment door, “babe.” Your heart jumps at the word and watch him as he swiftly unlocks his door and closes it behind him.

Your fingers graze your lips as if to make sure that had really just happened. They’re lightly coated with a mix of his and your saliva and it instigates a flame in your insides. You almost fall back into your apartment and rest your body against the closed door.

Everything just changed. But for some reason, fear is absent and instead is replaced with the sole wish that he had kissed you sooner.

You were wrong in the sense that everything had changed. Your regular routine with him remained the same like always despite kissing him. He takes you to work, eats lunch with you, and brings you back. He doesn’t kiss you goodbye like you thought he would but you’re not too disappointed because just being around him stirred something deep within you.

You catch yourself smiling at him, even in silence, and when he asks why you’re looking at him, you make up something about something on his face.

He falls asleep on your couch one day, with his head on your shoulder and his hand grazing yours. You can’t seem to find it in yourself to move because it would stir him awake so you fall asleep there too. It’s so unlike you, but you don’t find yourself minding too much.

“You majored in what?” You said, in utter disbelief.

He laughs, throwing his head back. “Biology,” he repeats.

“You don’t look like a nerd,” you say, pressing the button for your floor.

“I’m not,” Jungkook says and you look at him, not believing a word. “I’m just smart.”

“A nerd,” you correct.

“And what did you major in?” He asks, leaning his body against the wall.

You smile. “Anthropology.”

“The store?” You let out a cackle.

“You’re ridiculous.” There’s silence in the elevator for a while. The door dings and opens to your floor.

“No, but really. I don’t know what that is.” You both laugh as you walk out, but the sound is quickly silenced.

There’s a woman head to toe oozing with gorgeous. Her plush lips matched her deep red slip dress, outlining each curve and dip on her body. Her face is delicately crafted and sculpted, complimented by her slightly wavy black hair. The heels on her feet echo throughout the hallway as she turns towards you two.

“Jungkook?” She asks. That’s when you notice Jungkook had completely stopped in his tracks, staring right at her. The woman breaks eye contact with him to look at you, and then back at Jungkook. “Uh…” She says, lost for words. Everybody seems to be.

You step back to look at the boy next to you, waiting for him to say or do something. He snaps out of his trance to look at you and his Adam’s apple bobs nervously. “It’s fine, uhhh,” Jungkook says, and it’s as if he wants to say your name but isn’t saying it. “Go inside.”

Why is he acting like he doesn’t know you? Your mouth is agape as you stay stationary in your position, refusing to move. Jungkook decides to just ignore you, walking right past you and towards the woman. She is just as confused as you, and she keeps looking back and forth between him and you.

“Sorry, babe,” Jungkook says, his hand snaking around her waist. You feel your heart tremble inside your ribcage at the nickname. Your eyes are glued onto his hands on her body, and then at how he’s looking at her.

“Jungkook—” The woman begins to say but Jungkook is ushering her inside his apartment, not looking back at you once. The door behind them closes and you hear it lock. You stay standing, feeling like your knees were going to give into the floor.

Your mind finally tells you to move and it’s hard. Your fingers fumble with your keys, and for some reason, you can’t get them through the lock, but this time, you’re not drunk.

Once you’re through the door, you feel the need to lie down but you barely make your way to your bed before the first tear falls down.

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becamitchill-archived · 7 years

Text

oh won’t you be my livewire

our disco ball’s my kitchen light // pt. six

“Or,” Beca turns around and lifts herself onto the counter so she’s a little more eye level, “we can dance in the kitchen until it’s around the time the girls are gonna be back,” she puts her arms around Emily’s neck, “and hide in my room, act like we weren’t actually dancing in the kitchen.”

Emily leans forward so her forehead is resting against Beca’s, smiling, “Beca are you saying you enjoy dancing with me?” It comes out more like a sincere question than teasing.

aka emily cheers up an exceptionally grumpy beca by dancing with her in the kitchen

ao3 / ffn / the playlist

[ Beca Mitchell / 7:11 PM ] today sucks.

[ Emily Junk / 7:13 PM ] What? Oh no! Noooooo!!! D: What can I do????? :D

[ Beca Mitchell / 7:34 PM ] nothing. today just sucks.

Beca’s been like this all week: super grumpy and annoyed with the world.

More so than usual, she means.

Emily’s pretty sure it’s not because Beca’s on her period.

( Beca’s more whiney and cries a lot, but Emily’s been sworn to secrecy about that whole thing.

“I will murder you in your sleep if you tell anyone.”

“Okay, okay, jinkies. I just think it’s cute.”

“I’m not cute!” Beca sniffles. )

[ Emily Junk / 7:47 PM ] I’m gonna buy you food :)

[ Beca Mitchell / 7:48 PM ] i don’t want food. i’m staring at my sub sandwich right now.

Emily gets out of her bed and goes to her closet to get a jacket, “I’m going to the Bellas’ House.”

Sophie makes a distracted humming noise, clearly focusing on her school work.

[ Emily Junk / 7:49 PM ] Then I’m picking you up and we’re going to do something fun! :D

[ Beca Mitchell / 7:49 PM ] no way. i’m staying inside. it’s cold outside.

[ Emily Junk / 7:49 PM ] It’s 60! :O Put a jacket on and let’s go :D

[ Beca Mitchell / 7:50 PM ] ew no.

[ Emily Junk / 7:50 PM ] You’re being ridiculous.

[ Beca Mitchell / 7:50 PM ] :p

Although she shakes her head at Beca’s antics, Emily can’t help but smile.

“I probably won’t be back tonight.” Emily looks over at Sophie.

Sophie, pencil between her lips, just bobs her head slowly.

When she gets to the house, the girls are gathered outside the door, Fat Amy coming out last and shutting the door.

“Hey, Leggy,” Fat Amy shouts from the porch, “you coming out with us?”

Emily’s eyes widen as she tightens her grip on the strap of her bag, “Where are we going?”

“To get drinks to relax.” Jessica explains (or maybes it’s Ashley. Emily’s still confused).

“Uh,” Emily trails off before flickering her pointer finger out to point towards the house, “I’m actually here for Beca.”

Stacie frowns, “So two Bella’s are ditching girl night?”

Emily cringes, “I don’t really drink.”

“Oh,” Cynthia says, “that’s cool.”

Flo is just nodding her head.

Ashley and Jessica are mostly just frowning, looking at her like she's some kid. Which, is really starting to bother her again.

She looks to Chloe who hasn’t really bothered to say anything (or really even look in her direction). She’s not sure if she’s ever truly done anything to anger Chloe, but Emily has a feeling that Chloe probably hates her or at the very least dislikes her to some degree. “So, have fun!”

The girls walk together past Emily, rattling off a few good lucks about taking care of Beca.

When she walks into the Bella’s house, it’s quiet and that’s a weird feeling. Usually the Bella’s house is filled with noise, even if there is only one person in the house. The radio is always playing softly from the kitchen.

Today it’s not.

Today it’s eerily quiet and the only noise is the sound of keyboard clicks.

Beca has half a bite of sandwich sticking out of her mouth and her eyes are scanning over her laptop as she types rather rapidly. Her headphones (one of many) are sitting on the counter next to a pile of notebooks.

“Hey.” Emily says carefully, not wanting to startle Beca.

Beca looks up from her computer looking rather irritated. “Hey.”

Walking into the kitchen, Emily sits down next to Beca, “What class is that for?” She pulls her bag off and sets it on the floor by her feet.

“Uh, advanced music theory, year three.” Beca looks up from her screen at Emily, “What are you doing here anyway? I thought you and Sophie were studying.”

Emily nods, “We were and then I finished and my girlfriend’s,” she bumps her shoulder with Beca’s, “super grumpy and I want to help.”

Beca looks back at her screen, typing away again.

Emily pulls her phone out, scrolling through her music before tapping on a song.

Ain’t never felt this way

Emily stands up from the stool, putting her hand out with raised brow, inviting Beca to take her hand.

Beca narrows her eyes, “What are you doing ?”

Emily smiles big and wide, “Dance with me.”

Beca tilts her head and frowns, “No.”

“Please.” Emily pouts, ducking her head a little lower.

Beca closes her eyes, crossing her arms. “No way, I’m not falling for that.”

Emily steps into Beca’s space, putting her hands on the tops of Beca’s knees, letting her weight fall in her hands. “Please, Beca.” She practically bounces up and down, starting to sing along. “Oh my heart hurts so good, I love you babe, so bad.” Emily makes sure to sing the last word loud and off pitch.

“Em,” Beca bites on her lower lip, trying not to smile, squeezing her eyes shut. “no.”

“I love you babe, so bad. Dance with me!”

Beca cracks open an eye.

Emily smiles, tossing her head back and forth to the beat, swaying her body as she backs up, and lifts her hand out to Beca. “Mad warm when you get close,” Emily points her other hand towards herself, “to me. ”

Beca gives in, opening her eyes and smiling, taking Emily’s hand. “Slow dance these summer nights.”

“Our disco balls our kitchen light. ” Emily pulls Beca off her chair, reaching for her other hand when Beca gets on her feet. She threads her fingers between Beca’s, smiling more when Beca bobs her head to the beat.

And you need to know that nobody could take your place, your place

Emily lets go of Beca’s hand, the other rising in an effort to get Beca to twirl.

At first Beca hesitates, but when she does, she laughs and Emily starts singing again, “ And you need to know that,” when Beca’s facing her again, Emily gets serious, tracing her fingers over Beca’s cheek bone, “I’m hella obsessed with your face .”

Beca snickers a laugh and shakes her head, “Your face .”

Oh my heart hurts so good

I love you, babe, so bad

“So bad.” Emily sings as Beca finally gets into just as much as her.

She watches as Beca bites her bottom lip, tucking it under her teeth as she swings her head back and forth, backing up from Emily as she swings her entire body back and forth to the same rhythm. “Oh my heart hurts so good.” Beca sings before lifting her arm up as high as she can.

“I love you, babe. ” Emily has to duck down a little to spin underneath Beca’s arm, but she manages, smiling when she see’s Beca’s face again. She pulls herself closer, putting her hand on Beca’s side as she sways back and forth and forces the hand that’s holding Beca’s out, so they can dip down towards the ground every time they sway to the left.

Beca just laughs at this, eventually resting her head on Emily’s shoulder. “You’re a weirdo, Junk.”

So bad,

“But do you feel better?” She asks as she enjoys the smell of Beca’s shampoo.

Beca causes the pace to slow down, “A little.”

“Do you wanna tell me what’s bugging you so much?” Emily tries, but all she gets as a response is a shrug. “It might make you feel better.” She adds when Beca stays silent.

And you need to know that you’re the only one

“I’m just stressed about Chloe.”

Alright

“Why?”

Alright

“I still haven’t told her about the internship.”

And you need to know that you keep me up all night, all night.

“Why not?”

“I just,” Beca shrugs again before shaking her head and pulling her head off Emily’s shoulder to look at her, “know she’s going to freak out.”

“You don’t reall-”

“I do.” Beca frowns.

Emily twists her mouth to the side before nodding, “Alright. So just…” She trails off, not entirely sure what to say. “Don’t you think that keeping it from her longer is going to make it worse?”

Beca shrugs, stepping closer to Emily again, her eyes never quite meeting Emily’s.

“Well,” Emily lets go of Beca to put her hands on either side of Beca’s face, forcing Beca to look at her, “whatever happens, knowing Chloe, it’ll work itself out.”

Beca just closes the distance.

Emily smiles against the soft kiss, “We’re supposed to be discussing this.”

“We did.” Beca kisses Emily’s cheek before resting her head against Emily’s collar.

Emily stops dancing when the song ends and a new one starts, “Are you sure that’s everything?”

Beca looks up at her, looking more content that irritated. “No, but I really don’t think me talking about is going to help me.” She pulls away completely from Emily (she misses the touch instantly) and picks her plate off the island and sets it on the counter.

“Well, then,” Emily moves from her spot and walks up behind Beca, watching as Beca wraps her sub in foil and puts the plate in the sink, “we can just listen to music in your room until you do feel better.”

Emily leans forward so her forehead is resting against Beca’s, smiling, “Beca are you saying you enjoy dancing with me?” It comes out more like a sincere question than teasing.

“Add it to the list of things I’ll murder you over if you let anyone know.” Beca whispers against her lips.

“Cause you’re still trying to prove to the girls that you’re kick butt.”

Beca smiles at her, nodding. “Exactly.”

“You’re always kick butt to me.” Emily kisses her, putting her hands on either side of Beca’s face.

"I knew I liked you." There's a teasing tone in Beca's voice.

"I like you a lot." Emily says seriously.

Beca rolls her eyes, "I like you a lot too-" she pushes on Emily's shoulder playfully, "-nerd."

#ffn still isnt letting me upload so...#bemily #bemily fanfiction #pitch perfect fanfiction #owybml #bemily fanfic

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