#i couldve just as well jumped in a pool
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Who cursed me????
#i just got stuck in a rain hail storm#WITH MY BIKE#I took the short window where it wasnt hailing super strong to drive through the rain#i couldve just as well jumped in a pool#everything every fiber of my clothing is hot#i am sitting in a bathrobe on my bed#wondering how much bad luck i can have in one week#laptop dead#multiple times to hardware store because wrong screwdriver#the thing with the postal service and my important documents#i spilled coffee all over my floor yesterday#a glassbead fell on my floor and splittered in a million pieces and i stepped in one#it stopped raining 10min after i came home DRENCHED#i want to cry
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(BTS) Golden Lover: Chapter 3
Namjoon x Black!Reader
High Fantasy, Magic, spells, gods and goddesses
Mstrlst in bio!
“Darling daughter?” Mother called.
“Yes?” You replied.
She nodded towards your plate, “Are you not hungry?”
You shook your head and set your utensils down, “Please excuse me. It seems that my sickness lingers. I’ll be turning in early.”
“I’ll walk you to your room, Princess.” Jimin stood from his seat.
“I can--” You began, but Father cut you off. “She’d quite enjoy that. Thank you, Jimin.”
You wanted a shower. You wanted to be alone with your thoughts and smelling salts and a few cats, but no. Jimin chattered excitedly about how beautiful your Egypt was. How warm and humid but irreplaceable it’s beauty was.
“Um, Princess? I couldn’t help but notice how you were during dinner tonight. You didn’t get some bad news, did you?” His voice softened.
The worst, “Of course not. I just...I haven’t had much time to myself today. I’ve been quite busy entertaining the guests, getting to know you all.”
“I wouldn’t lie to your future husband, Princess (Y/N).” He laughed.
You swallowed hard and his smile fell.
He looked down, “I didn’t mean offense, Princess.”
“I don’t wanna marry you. I decided that from the moment I met you.”
“I see.”
You looked at him, “Please don’t be upset. I just...my father is making me choose a husband within the next two days, before the end of the festival.”
He looked at you, “We leave in three days.”
“Of course.” You sighed. “I just. I don’t wanna lose the throne due to my being stubborn. I want a good king to rule by my side, but I want to love him as well.”
“Marrying for love? You are a special one, princess.”
You scoffed and laughed, “Whatever do you mean?”
“As a royal, I would think that you would have given up marrying for true affections by the time of puberty. Often thinking instead who can help their country or prestige the most. However, you still hold onto the hope.” He looked up at the sky.
“Should I give up hope, though?”
Jimin shook his head, “Never. I believe love is powerful and one of the purest things on Earth. If you were to give up on it, then what would you have left?”
A small smile played no your lips, “You speak our language well.”
“Thank you, Princess. May I ask you a strange question? It’s something both Hobi and I were wondering.”
“You may if you tell me who Hobi is.” You replied with your arms behind you.
He didn’t know you were taking the long way to your room in order to speak to him more, but he spoke curiously. Kind but honest, and you could feel the amount of love he had in his heart. How he gave it to everyone and everything.
“Hobi is our nickname for Prince Hoseok.” Jimin smiled, “Would you like to prepare a dance with us? For the festival send off that is. We’re both proficient in dance, and your father was singing your praises at dinner. It’s ok if you don’t. Even if we cannot work as marriage partners, then I’d at least want to work as friends. Performers.”
“You’d want to dance with me?”
He nodded in ernest. It was true that you were often seen dancing in the square with your body covered in jingling gold. Oftentimes in the middle, you’d stop a robbery or something, but a princess had to know her people to serve them. That was your philosophy at least.
Back to the matter at hand. This Jimin was interesting, very interesting.
You nodded, “So, whose style would we do. Yours or mine?”
“I was thinking a fusion of our styles. Don’t you think that would be the most fitting?”
You smiled for the first time in hours, “I’d enjoy that very much. I know just where we can practice and teach each other the basics.”
This time, the prince smiled so big that his eyes disappeared, “Yes! Thank you, dear princess! Guide me, and then we can meet after dinner.”
Right, you were supposed to be unwell. You led him to the dancing spot in the garden where a stage would most likely be set up. The grass there was just growing back from last time you turned down a marriage. Then you both went to the door in front of your bedroom. As he returned to the eating hall, you snuck away for a quick swim.
A small meow was heard from the sideline, Qasab Alsukar. You told him to stay where he was and not to jump in. He walked to your pile of clothing and laid down in them. It was a stunning starry night. All your worries drifted away as you floated on your back, your twisted hair fanning out around your face.
You thought about the princes and were glad that you had been honest with them. Even if you wouldn’t be getting married to them, you could still be close to them. Having dueled with Jungkook, showed some artistic landscapes to Taehyung, Jimin and Hoseok had become your dance partners, and Yoongi was your fellow animal lover.
He had even asked you if he could take one of the cubs home, and you said yes once they were a bit older. Then there was Namjoon.
Why did your heart do that everytime you thought of him? It pounded in your ears, and you closed your eyes to shut out the sound. It didn’t work. He was gorgeous. His smile made you want to smile. The way he treated a pet that was not his. Qasab Alsukar could’ve been a street cat, but he still showed the kitten the same care as a house cat. Kim Namjoon. (Y/N) Kim. That’d be your name if you were to marry him...or his brother. The way Yoongi talked about his friend, it seemed as though he gave that kindness to everyone.
Mayhaps he’d be a good husband...maybe you did lo--
The splash of a rock to your left startled you, and you turned to see who it was. Your relaxed demeanor turning stern.
“What is the meaning of this?” You ordered before you recognized the person standing there was the man you had just been thinking of.
Kim Namjoon bowed low, “Pardon the intrusion, Princess (Y/N). There was a snake approaching you, and it did not seem you noticed. I threw the rock to hit it or at least scare it off.”
Looking around, you saw a serpent unmoving in the waters nearby. It most certainly would’ve killed you if it had gotten any closer.
You turned to him once more, “Thank...you...”
But he was gone.
Ah! Dinner must’ve been over. You put on your clothing after drying off quickly and then began walking towards the meeting place for you, Hoseok, and Jimin to begin practicing. As you got close to the archway, you realized. Kim Namjoon had seen you naked. Your breasts had been above water. How long had he been standing there silent? You made a note to speak to him the next time you saw him as your cheeks began blazing.
Alsukar mewed at your heels, and you picked him up, “Mayhaps I should get guard dogs since you did nothing to warn me, you little rascal.”
He licked your nose and meowed. Too cute. As you went into the dance room, the three of you and a drummer practiced until morning. None of you wanting to take too long of a break. Wanting to do your best to show unity and friendship and just in awe of how well you worked together and not wanting to break the flow of good energy.
You were woken up by a beautiful serving girl. Bahr. She called your name and said that she was relieved to see you. Groggy, you blinked and wondered what she was talking about. The kingdom had been worried about you and the princes since no one knew where you had gone and they had found a dead poisonous snake in the pool where you were known to sneak off to.
“We were just practicing for the festival. Where’s Iset?” You dismissed her worry with a smile.
“Her room.” Bahr replied.
“I apologize for the worry. Please inform everyone that we are fine. I’m sure father will be happy to hear me interacting with the princes.”
She nodded, “Does that mean you’ll be performing at the festival with them?”
You looked at her, “It does. I’ll be dancing with Princes Jimin and Hoseok. A fusion dance for the occasion.”
She couldn’t help but smile, “Does that mean you’ll be finding a husband this time around?”
“Maybe. I think I’ll have to if I want to be next in line.” You looked down.
Bahr had been here for many years but spoke formally, “Forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, but...I want to see you married. If you do not love your husband, then you can learn how to. Then you and your kingdom will be happy.”
She kissed your forehead and left. Breakfast had been left on a platter by your bedside. You must’ve missed it in order to sleep after dancing for so long. Iset showed up while you were eating and scolded you for disappearing. She called you a cat what with the way you went where you want when you wanted to. She went on and on with her heart on her sleeves and then asked you where you had been after all.
“With the princes…” You said. “We’re planning something for the festival and were practicing all night.”
Iset raised a brow, “For the festival or just for you? Which princes? What?”
You explained yourself and promised it was for the festival, “I’d never fool around like that...at least with nobles.” A small grin crossed your face from memories.
She sighed, “Well, I’m glad you’re opening your heart. Do you have a favorite? One you could at least learn to love once you get wed?”
Namjoon’s stern and focused face appeared in your mind once more. Ugh why him? You shook your head, ans Iset gasped.
“Who?”
“It’s nobody!” You bit into a slice of bread.
She huffed and crossed her arms.
“Fine, Namjoon! I...he’s kind and he’s the one I’m most interested to learn about. I’m lured to him. When I think about him, my heart races and I think about him when he’s not around. I don’t understand. I’m not interested in anyone but him.” The honest words tumbled out faster than you could hold them back. Your began hitting your head. “What’s wrong with me? Why does he plague my thoughts so?”
Iset couldn’t help but giggle as she held your hands, “My dear, you’re in love with him.”
“I...I could never!”
She grinned, “Whatever you say, (Y/N), but I felt this way when I saw my husband for the first time and for days after. Love at first sight is a rare thing, do not throw it away for your stubborn pride.”
“Anyways, are you doing anything during the festival? You’ll be leaving soon afterwards as well, won’t you?”
Your fellow princess and best friend gave a nod, “I am. We’re planning on having our first child and being more serious about ruling our people as a couple and securing the throne. All that joy.”
You looked out and saw Prince Namjoon and Yoongi on their way to the river behind the rest of the boys just talking. Taehyung had a large smile as he walked backwards with a towel in his clutches.
He noticed you and waved, catching the eyes of the others who turned around and did the same until Namjoon bowed. Then they all followed him by bowing as well. You rolled your eyes trying to ignore the glimpse of Namjoon’s smile and the skipped heartbeat it caused. Iset stood next to you as soon as you turned away. She waved as you missed Namjoon’s smile falling once he could no longer see you.
_____
“Namjoon-hyung.” Taehyung called. “Do you have feelings for the princess?”
“No!” Namjoon blushed as Yoongi replied, “Yep. He sure does.”
Jimin piped up, “ I think she might have feelings for you too.”
The prince’s ears perked up, “What? How?”
He disclosed how while he danced with you and Hoseok last night that you asked about him, what kind of prince he was. You had said that you wanted to spend more time with Namjoon but were nervous to approach him.
Hoseok added, “She wanted to know what plant you were talking about when you first met? Apparently you met her before dinner.”
“Ah, yes. In the market. Her father was quite strict and she was walking around without protection. Her cat followed me and...it’s the catnip.” Namjoon cut himself off when he was met with blank stares. “I brought some because I heard there would be a lot of felines here.”
A black cat with a golden ankh necklace rubbed at Yoongi’s ankles, and he picked her up, “At least you were right. I’m glad, too.”
“I’d be a good husband for her. At least, I’d like to think I would be.” Namjoon continued. “She’s cute and I enjoy her personality. I er...saw her in the pool last night...nude.”
The men all stopped and started to ask overlapping questions.
“I’m not telling you anything! I just noticed someone in the water, looked to see if they were ok. It was the princess, and there was a snake coming towards her, so I stoned it before it reached her.”
Jin replied, “Oh, Namjoon-ah! So heroic!” He laughed.
Jungkook smiled along. The boys all talked about how in love Namjoon was with the princess, and he was shy and blushed all through it. The black cat was nearby the whole time. She bathed in the sun and ate a fish Namjoon caught for her.
As a direct son of the King, Namjoon had a lot of land. A lot of resources but he was not in line for his own throne. That was Seokjin, but the younger royal was in charge of training warriors. Jin was in charge of money. Taehyung was in charge of agriculture. All of them seemed like they were good friends. Marrying just one of them could ensure so much for your people.
All of them knew this, but only one of them could marry you. It was obvious to them who they wanted it to be. Fishermen were nearby, shirtless and wet with strong arms from constantly casting nets and lifting heavy loads of sea creatures for a living. Prince Jimin watched the tallest of them intently, head in his hand.
“I have an idea!” Said Jungkook when everything was quiet, startling the cat and Jimin.
Yoongi smiled at their reactions, “It’s ok, kitten. You should go home now. I’m sure (Y/N) misses you very much.” His eyes gave a silver glow.
The cat meowed, surprised he knew the truth. Namjoon offered to walk her back to the princess, so he dusted off his shorts, threw on his robe, and held the beautiful cat in his arms.
“What’s your idea, Kookie?” the quiet man asked.
“Well, we all know we’re not getting with her,”
“YA!” Exclaimed Jin. “We haven’t even spent much time together. How do you know--”
Jungkook spoke up, “Why do you think that is?”
The oldest stayed silent at that and pouted. So the youngest explained a plan on how to get the two royals together. It would happen the day of the festival. It sounded like a good plan to the other princes. Jin was a bit downtrodden that the princess hadn’t gotten any one on one time with him, but he hadn’t really gotten the chance. He’d try to know her true feelings and from there decide if he’d be a part of Jungkook’s plan.
As Namjoon got closer to the palace, the black cat stayed close to his chest. She was adorable and the Prince thought about asking to keep her as Yoongi had done with the lion cub. Then the cat looked around and began to freak out as RapMon (affectionately called Mon-ie) ran up to his owner. The cat jumped out of his arms and ran as Monie barked and chased her into the Princess’s room!
“Mon-ie, NO!”
A strange flash of light came from the room, and Mon-ie ran out of the room and into his owner’s arms with his tail between his legs. Namjoon then worried for (Y/N) and ran into her room.
“Princess!” He called as he entered.
She looked at him. Princess Iset was there as well. The prince bowed, “Sorry for the intrusion, princesses. I just thought I saw...um. Did a cat come in here? I was trying to return her. Yoongi said she belonged to you, so I came from the beach, I mean river, to--”
“Yes, she ran out the window.” Iset replied, “She’s quite an outdoor cat. Can’t stay in one place for too long.”
She took a slight glance at you, and you blinked and looked around as if you had just returned to your own body, “Namjoon?”
“Yes, princess?”
“Please prepare something for tomorrow’s festival. I want you to show off your talents yourself instead of hearing about them from your friends.”
He blushed, “W-What would you like me to prepare?”
You looked at him, “Do whatever you think will win me over, Princey.”
The man bowed, “Yes, Princess. I do hope you feel better.” He then moved to leave, stopping mid turn. “Oh, right. Catnip.”
“What is it?”
The prince motioned to the plant in the windowsill that had cats swarming around it and soon lying down here and there.
“Cats really like it. The plant that I brought for you.”
“Oh…” You said, looking at the plant then back at him. “Thank you.”
He gave a flash of his dimples as he smiled, “You’re welcome, Princess.”
“I seem to be thanking you a lot.”
“Your presence is all the thanks I need.”
With that, the Korean prince left and closed the door behind him. Namjoon was worried. What could he do to impress the Princess in just over 24 hours? He went to the room that was prepared for his stay. Several cats had fallen asleep on his now relaxed white dog. At least they seemed to have figured each other out.
The prince stood on his balcony and looked out upon the scene before him. Sandy browns and tans that matched his golden skin helped to contrast the green of trees and blue of the ocean. Darker browns of people dressed in whites and gold popped out here and there. Namjoon wanted to write. He grabbed a notebook from his luggage and began writing, his hand struggling to keep up with his mind.
He wrote about Princess (Y/N). Her black twists like snakes around his heart. Snakes he loved, the tail of a cat. The ears as well, perking up to every creature. No. No. It was so messy. So unclear. It matched his mind. He was never good at showing his feelings towards those he was attracted to. Then again, it was a rare occasion. The last time he fell in love with Princess Wheein, and she was married off and sent away without him knowing.
They spoke through letters until she had her first child. That was years ago, but it still stung from time to time. Her sister was currently pursuing Taehyung, but everything had been put on hold for this trip, this chance to marry a foreign Princess. More beautiful than any of the words people had used to describe her.
Namjoon took a deep breath and remembered her in the market. That tattoo on her list. Remembered her at dinner that same night. He wasn’t sure why his heart hurt when he saw her conversing with his friends. Like when she and Taehyung were leaving to go on what he later found out what was a boat ride on the nearby river. It was for his little brother’s artistic inspiration. The deepthinking Prince recalled how his heart soared when, one by one the boys announced that she had only wanted friendship from them.
The word was on the tip of his tongue. The only logical explanation for his feelings. Love. But it couldn’t be. There was Wheein. There were all the girls at home and...he didn’t feel like this towards any of them. Not since he had seen (Y/N).
Before his eyes flashed the woman floating in the pool after she excused herself from dinner. She had seen so upset during the meal, so he was glad that she was smiling with her face towards the stars. His heart did a funny little tingle.
Prince Namjoon began to write once more.
Is this love Is this love Sometimes I know Sometimes I don’t The next line What should I write? So many words are circling me But I don’t like a single one I just feel it Like the moon always rising after the sun Like nails growing, like trees shedding their leaves When winter comes You’re the one To turn my recollections into memories Before I knew you My heart was only in linear motion
Yeah. That was a good start. It was the truth about his feelings. This was what he’d perform for the Princess at tomorrow’s festival.
#BTS#Bangtan#Kim Namjoon#RM#RM x Reader#Reader x RM#Namjoon x Reader#Reader x Namjoon#Black!Reader#Ancient Egypt
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god free! is such a dumb goofy series i love it like shit gets real sometimes but when it comes down to it it’s just a bunch of dumb goofy teens living their lives together?? i have compiled a list of my favorite examples from s1
makoto: *enters haru’s house uninvited, walks right into the bathroom while haru’s in the bath, presumably naked* hey haru: ....................................hey LIKe he just.... Accepts that this is happening, theres like a solid like 2 seconds of him just staring at makoto like he’s debating within himself whether to Say It or not before almost tangibly going “fuck it” & just going along w/ it*
haru & makoto & nagisa going “is it really okay to dig up our old trophy if rin isn’t here? idk it just feels wrong w/o him” only to find out that rin not only beat them there but also fucking just went ahead and dug it up by himself hfjdkjgd
haru having some kind of sixth sense for sugar apparently??? when nagisa throws “salt” on them he like tenses up all dramatic & goes “this isnt salt........................ it’s sugar” like ok????? just gonna let that one go i guess
rin having sharp teeth for absolutely no fucking reason
haru & rin not noticing the fucking pool they're about to race in is empty????
haru straight up rejecting their encounter with rin & trying to convince himself they all hallucinated him like huh? what? rin?? haha impossible he’s in australia there’s no way he couldve been at the swim club last night. no theres no such thing as airplanes he’s gone forever. yes im sure
rin going back to the old swim club again bc the first time his melodramatic brooding was interrupted by those old elementary school Goons showing up so he needed a do-over
nagisa skinny dipping in samezuka’s pool??? an apparently prestigious competitive swimming powerhouse that trains up future professional gold medalists, reigning champions of interhigh swim meets near and far in that same water & nagisa just jumps the fuck in dick out no fucks to give whatsoever???? this bitch
haru literally only showing up to both the old swim club and samezuka academy for the pools, it’s literally the equivalent of college students showing up to any given event for free food (and the fact that they had to break in both times, these Rowdy-Ass Teens)
rin showing up just in time to interrupt their illicit pool activities bc he Sensed Them
haru wearing his swimsuit under his clothes literally everywhere despite reportedly not having actually swum since middle school (except for in the ocean during summer, but it’s like the middle of spring rn?? is he just doing this in way advanced preparation? is this the equivalent of people who start posting abt halloween in july)
gou showing up to haru’s house bc apparently she just Knows where he lives (also haru hearing the doorbell & immediately submerging his head in the bath bc he’d rather drown than have to answer the door #relatable)
rei calling haru “haru-chan-san” upon first meeting him bc “haru-chan” is what nagisa has been referring to him as so that’s his sole point of reference but he also has to add his own honorific too bc come on
haru being instantly pissed at this random new fuck for calling him not only -chan, his Least favorite honorific, but now -san on top of it too??? Outrageous (and this is the same guy who reportedly “hates water,” a completely unacceptable sentiment that should under no circumstances be allowed anywhere near their team in the first place- honestly from haru’s pov it’s like “oh so this is the guy who hates water huh, this hot shit” & then the hot shit’s all “you must be haru-chan-san” he probably just immediately sees red ghdjsjf)
nagisa’s whole “we need this guy bc he has a girly name just like us it’s fate” thing even tho rei’s already in the track club doing pole vaulting that he’s obviously been training v hard to be able to do is such a stupid anime bullshit motivation & my favorite part of it is that their plan for recruiting him basically amounts to the whole gang of idiots showing up to all of rei’s practices and staring at him intensely from the corner until he joins them, like,,,, think of this from rei’s perspective he’s just minding his own business trying to perfect pole vaulting & these fuckers have fixated on him for no apparent reason? he can’t even swim???
rei going so far out of his way to avoid admitting to nagisa that he can’t swim that he comes up with this bullshit philosophy about “humans evolved from the water so why would we regress and get back into it??? Checkmate y’all are fucking idiots now leave me alone” (& also the effort & passion he puts into the delivery, the overdramatic gesturing hfhhddjf rei are u sure u don’t actually belong in the drama club)
after all that, rei up and deciding to leave the track team (even tho he literally structured his daily schedule around it, went running in the mornings & everything, read books n shit) to join the swim club bc haru just looked really, really cool while swimming that one time
haru legitimately having a hard time choosing between like 5 of the exact same swim suit
when they’re trying to figure out why rei can’t swim & haru’s like “the water doesn’t like him” & nagisa’s immediately like “poor rei-chan :(” like hfkglfkj he just Accepts
rei being so frustrated with his inability to swim that he blames it on his speedo & is very convinced that buying a new one will somehow solve all of his problems (& everyone else just going along w/ it like ok i guess it’s time to go swimsuit shopping then)
haru, the owner of the previously mentioned 5 identical swimsuits, joining in with everyone else to go shopping for even more swimsuits, and picking out another one that looks just fucking like the other 5 he already has
nagisa being told that he can’t put their ugly-ass bird mascot on the swim team uniform so he puts “secret iwatobi-chan” on the back of the shirt that will be hidden beneath the jacket as if that’s not Blatantly what he was told not to do (also the fact that anyone entrusted the handling of the uniforms to nagisa, the exact kind of person who would do exactly that kind of thing)
(ok this one isnt rly goofy but haru just bit his ice cream & im so intimidated rn??)
rin’s fucking 6th sense for haru again???? “smells like mackerel”????? i truly cannot handle this one (haru & company are looking in at samezuka’s practice through the window & rin’s just like “HUH what the fuck is that who’s there i smell Mackerel” like????? oh my fucking god)
amakata “we don’t have enough money for a training camp” miho renting herself and gou a room at a lodge on the beach?????? power move
this goddamn show having a fun ~spooky~ haunted house adventure right after everyone almost fucking Died
haru’s story about his “first love” being about a fucking waterfall igmgkdjkg
rin jogging on the beach the next morning & stopping by the tents like “who r these fuckin dumbasses camping right on the shoreline” & then he turns around and there’s haru & his band of swimming idiots
rin waiting in the hallway at the interhigh in case haru comes by so he can casually get up & have a Cool And Dramatic confrontation w/ him where he brags how he’s gonna beat him in their upcoming race (which, even better, he purposely entered himself at a lower skill level to be able to do while probably his whole team went “uhhhh are u sure abt this lmao we’re kind of trying to be the best here” & hes just like “yeah yeah its fine it’s gonna be so fucking cool just wait”)
haru apparently also having a Rin Sense where he just Feels that rin is there, watching him about to swim (although now that i think about it that bright red hair is probably a fuckin beacon, i bet literally everyone looked over at him the second he stepped out of that doorway- that and the massive aura of Teen Angst surrounding him at all times)
the whole thing with nagisa & rei’s operation at the summer festival to keep haru from seeing rin? first of all is v cute but they get so into it fjdhgkdj fucking dumb cute kids playing secret detective mission texting each other Classified Intel about the location of their targets while also trying to hide it from haru & makoto (who eventually find out bc nagisa is literally the worst liar ever while also already being the most suspect little shit out of all of them by nature)
rei getting so caught up in the detective shit that he ends up following rin out of the festival entirely & into town where the purpose of his pursuit in the first place is irrelevant bc haru’s not gonna suddenly happen upon rin at the elementary school?? rei is such a nosy bitch i love him
rei being such a nosy bitch that he inadvertently fixes the emotional turmoil that has been building between rin & the others unresolved for years
rin texting gou to get rei’s number bc he needs to have a Serious and Dramatic conversation w/ him but he didnt have the chance to exchange contact info the last time they yelled at each other behind the school
rin sitting alone in samezuka’s bus bc they banned him from swimming for being too obsessed w/ haru & he needs somewhere to Sulk
rin finding some random tree outside the swim meet & being like “this reminds me of that tree from elementary school” bc hes a nostalgic bitch like that
haru being able to find rin bc he saw the same tree earlier and went “wait, rin’s a nostalgic bitch, i know Exactly where the fuck he went” & Sure Enough
iwatobi getting themselves disqualified bc they wanted to swim w/ rin in an official race like??? i know it’s an emotional & satisfying moment but miho chewing them out for it afterward is so fucking funny like objectively this team was doing rly well & then suddenly went “u know what, we do what we want, this red guy is ours now” & the judges went “hmm............... no”
in the v last episode when theyre all just sitting in a classroom w/ rin having him pretend to introduce himself as if he were a transfer student like theres absolutely no reason for this, theyre just goofing off together and reconnecting after having lost each other for so many years & it’s so dumb & heartwarming & the perfect way to close off the season & im crying i really do love this show i love these characters so much what a dumb cute goofy heartfelt show aaaaaa free is a treasure
*from the very 1st point: i know there r cultural differences to take into account where it’s probably not as big a deal for makoto to walk in on haru’s bath time in japan as it would be in like, america & the real issue haru takes w/ this happening is that his one little place of refuge in a world w/o water is being breached by this annoyingly persistent guy who not only interrupts his coping time but is actively trying to get him to leave it for “important” things like “going to school” and “not being late” & the extended pause is really him registering this unpleasant situation & trying to decide if it’s worth it to fight for his solitude, ultimately deciding it’s not worth the energy and begrudgingly accepting makoto’s outstretched hand, though he vocalizes his displeasure by rejecting his -chan bc no one who pulls him away from the water is someone he can call a friend, not even his like. actual friend. only friend. either one
anyway i love free bye
#hm i love free hm hmm#retag later#free blogging#i havent done a post like this in a while it's. good#i might do this for s2 too but i remember it less & it's hard to take notes when ur watching w/ someone & cant pause it a bunch#so we'll see
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150-200
pfft
150. Where do you think is the best place to meet a new lover?
i mean knowing me its gonna be on Her(the only lesbian dating app that i know of bc fUCK PARTIES)
151. Have you ever successfully been on a diet?
i’ve never dieted? idk i’ve always been a decent weight and i dont hate my body as much as you’d think
152. Favorite thing to do outside?
WALKS
153. Where did you go on your last vacation?
florida
154. Do you say “y'all” at all?
you better believe i do i hate it but its forever in my vocabulary
155. Have you ever lived on a farm?
ew no
156. Do you believe in evolution?
*LONG SIGH* yeah
157. What TV channel do you watch the most?
none???
158. Favorite Beatles song?
i used to know how to play “we all live on a yellow submarine” on the uke but my fav is hey jude
159. Have you ever been on TV?
yup and it was so unflattering my gran still has the damn clip saved
160. Have you ever been to Disney World or Disneyland?
nope
161. Do you like horror movies?
not really unless they’re the ultra cheesy b film shit(i’m a wimp shh)
162. Do you like to go fishing?
a bit
163. Have you ever been hunting?
ew no
164. Do you take medication for anything?
occasionally i take some of the Strong Sleep Meds but only if i plan on sleeping through my alarm and/or skipping school
165. Name one item from your bucket list.
shooting myself in the leg/stabbing myself
166. From 1-10, how much do you like children?
like maybe a 4
167. Have you ever thought about your wedding?
its gonna be silver/teal themed, relatively cheap, outdoors in winter bc SUFFER, and imma be in a tux.
168. Have you ever been bungee jumping or skydiving?
good god no i’m absolutely petrified of heights
169. Favorite flower?
... all of them?
170. Do you collect anything?
the souls of the damned
171. Who was the last person you told a lie to?
i’m not sure?(OOOOO WHEN I SAID I LOVED EMMA(platonically) NOOO THAT BITCH CAN ROT FOR ALL I CARE)
172. Have you ever been a bridesmaid or a groomsman?
i’m a bit young sorry
173. Have you ever had a fortune cookie fortune come true?
i dont think “there will be spicy conversation tonight” is a fortune that can really come true
174. What was your favorite toy to play with when you were a child?
tinkertoys oH mY gOd
175. How good are you at math?
decently, but not honours level
176. Have you ever learned anything from a how-to YouTube video?
I LEARNED HOW TO MAKE ICE CREAM AND IT WAS AMAZING
177. Have you ever participated in a science fair?
no
178. Have you ever wished you were born the opposite gender?
not really? i never really think about it tbh
179. Have you ever participated in a public protest?
ugh yes it was a protest for clean air bc fucking inversion is awful here and it was in the middle of winter we hiked from my school to the capital and then the entire school sat in the lobby and it was marble floors and they were soaked from all the tracked in snow and it was all around a miserable experience
180. Do you have a pool at your house?
bitch i wish
181. Have you ever hosted a wild party?
nope
182. Do you like karaoke?
not really
183. Have you ever written a love letter?
yes, but it was a bit of a vent as well and it will never see the light of day
184. Have you ever ran a marathon?
good god no
185. How often do you get mad at yourself?
a lot
186. Any guilty pleasures?
;))) (no, actually, and i never understood that phrase. you’re guilty for doing something that makes you happy?? like yeah i get it if its like ripping wings off a fly or killing small animals for the pleasure of seeing the life drain from their eyes but thats just morally corrupt in my book and either way No i dont have any guilty pleasures)
187. Fruits or vegetables?
fruits
188. Do you live in a house or an apartment?
house
189. The countryside or the suburbs?
i like the country more
190. Worst job you’ve ever had?
shovelling frozen dog shit the size of my head out of my backyard
191. Do you hang out with any of your co-workers?
that would be my uncle and my mother so yeah??
192. Were you ever voted homecoming/prom king or queen?
no, bc i never go to shit like that lmao
193. Were you voted a “best” or “most likely to” in high school?
nope
194. Have you ever gotten detention?
no but i await the day
195. Have you ever babysat?
no but i really wanted to when i was like nine
196. Have you ever taken a road trip just for the fun of it?
probably i dont remember tho
197. How many drinks get you tipsy?
probably like one strong one but idk
198. Were you a part of any academic clubs in high school or college?
i was in math club in middle school if that counts?
199. Have you ever given a public speech, aside from your schooling?
no thank jesus
200. How long have you been on tumblr?
maybe six/seven months? that doesn’t sound v long wow it feels like forever maybe it was longer like wHO KNOWS IT COULDVE BEEN 2015 I SURE AS HELL DONT REMEMBER(so i looked and i wAS BIRTHED INTO TUMBLR on 07/24/2016 holy shit its been over a year wow)
QUESTIONSSSS
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Promise
Triggers: Suicide mention, drug mention, overdose mention, prostitution, gun mention, kidnapping
“I’ll take care of you,” she had promised. She can’t regret the oath, but she does regret what it drove her to, the desperate need to prove she could keep the promise.
Kara gets into prostitution because her little brother is eleven when the last of their parents vanish. She is seventeen, and she knows enough to be aware that the big motivator in Blacklight is money, and when her dad ran out, this is what happens: there’s no point trying to force a payment from a man with his head barely above water. She knows without a body being found that he is dead. Kara has her savings, her college fund, and that’s it. It’s not enough for two kids to live off, and her part-time job at a clothing store isn’t going to keep them afloat, and no one she wants her brother anywhere near is going to hire an eleven year old.
So – so she starts to prostitute herself, an amateur working cheap by Blacklight standards. She learns how much to charge without drawing complaints, she learns how to balance senior year and ‘work’, and she learns that many clients will pay more for the thrill of her being so much younger than the average whore. Enable a fetish and the cash goes up, enough to pay for school, for food, for a roof. At eighteen she gets sole custody of Lionel, legally, without complaint. She fucks the judge to get it through quick, once they get caught by the system.
She spends too long in the bathroom, driving the water bill up and up and scrubbing her skin raw in an attempt to get clean. Lionel is twelve, and she’s learned enough now to know how to draw lines, how to enforce them without losing clients. He knows what she does, he knows how much she hates it, but she doesn’t bring her work home and he can’t complain, however much he might want to.
Eighteen is when the pimp for her district finds out about her working solo, cutting into his profits. Eighteen is when Craig gets his hands on her, and really, he’s not so bad, except taking off some of her profits. She explains to him her situation, barely thinking it’ll work but convinced it’s worth a try – and he listens. He gives her specific times to work, promises he’ll take only ten percent, a fixed rate. It’s – it’s not good, but it’s not bad, she’s got repeat clients who are sleazier than Craig.
And then Faust finds out about her.
“So you’re the infamous Caramel,” are his first words to her.
She’s standing as still as she knows how, wearing something revealing beneath a heavy, cheap coat. She’s going for allure, even though she’s just a little too far from curvy for the effect to work as she intends; this is her ‘uniform’, what she wears when she’s out during the hours Craig assigns.
“I’m whoever you need me to be, baby,” she says. Her voice is a rasp, quiet, but not subdued. There is a confidence in her tone that many whores have lost by the end of their first year – but she cannot afford to become less of a person, not with Lionel at home depending on her, not with so many people willing to take advantage of her.
Faust circles like a vulture, and she knows she is being judged. She keeps her eyes partially shut, as though heavily lidded, and watches him with pursed lips painted in a discounted dark pink. He’s not actually that old at this point, though definitely older than her – she guesses him to be around thirty, much younger than her year-dead father. He’s not bad looking, either. It won’t be a struggle to act like she likes it when he inevitably goes down on her, even if what follows is her usual routine of scathing hot water and too-long in the shower, worrying a brother who is getting more and more withdrawn in turn.
“I’ll pay you triple,” he says at last, “to stay overnight. I get twenty-five percent of your cut from clients who aren’t me.”
Kara raises a brow at him. “Craig might have something to say about that.” She doesn’t say that this is a rip off, that she’s not going to jump ship from her fantastic deal just because he offers better pay to start
Faust’s smile is soft, but there’s something in his eyes that stands out to her – something dangerous. Something that tells her this man is not a nice man, as if she hadn’t guessed from an awareness of who he is. “Craig can’t say much once he’s dead.”
Her blood runs cold, but she steps closer to him. He doesn’t back down; she runs a hand up his chest and grips the gaudy tie he is wearing, something only a Blacklight local would like. She doesn’t smile, but she peers at him from beneath the fake eyelashes she is wearing only for this meeting. The effect is that she is playing coy, with any luck. “Whatever you say, boss,” she breathes, and drags him down to kiss her.
She can never pick out individual moments of her time with Faust, not in hindsight. It’s either a self-defence mechanism or a consequence of everything blurring together.
After that first meeting with her, he puts a pimp, loyal to him and more obedient than Craig proved to be, in charge of the whores. The new pimp is an asshole in every way except physically; he does not do anything that might bruise. But the verbal and psychological, the demeaning, the ripping off all of them – Kara is the only one whose cut never changes, because she is not afraid to talk money with Faust, and she talked him into writing up a contract that means he takes a profit from her, not the new pimp, and only a set amount. It’s not good, and for the first time she wonders if maybe things with Craig were better than she thought – and those drained her of everything she had.
If she believed in gods, this would be about where she’d start praying.
She comes home the day of her brothers fourteenth birthday with a little cake and a spring in her step, for once. Faust has promised her the weekend off, written it into another contract in what she knows is both a power play and a source of amusement for him; his little whore with her obsession with promises being kept. She doesn’t care that he mocks her for this, because promises are the only thing she can keep.
“Hey, Li? You home?”
The front door is locked, but not deadlocked; she knows he is. He’s good at keeping safe, good at following rules a lot of people in Blacklight take for granted or ignore. Kara smiles to herself: it’s a Friday, and she doesn’t have to do any work until Monday, and this is going to be a weekend just for her and Lionel. She’s got some money stowed away, enough that they can rent a car – dads being long since gone – and get out of Blacklight, just for the weekend. Never has she been happier her brother is a summer born child; they can go somewhere with a pool, or somewhere on the sea. They haven’t seen it since the summer before their dad was killed, and it’s finally time – in her opinion – to move on.
The house is quiet, though. She figures Lionel has earphones in, because the budget ones that came with his phone are the best sound system they have. He saved for ages to get that thing, scrounging together the change from Kara sending him grocery shopping and the neighbours paying him to pay the lawn until he could afford a Nokia and a memory card, the better to store music on. He loves his music, and his dream is to go to a concert; there aren’t any on this year that he’s interested in, or she would be taking him to it. “Boys and their toys,” she murmurs to herself, fond. She’s been busy, forced to work more lately by Faust and the twenty-five percent, and she’s been looking forward to this for ages, both for the company of Lionel, and for herself. Too much Blacklight breaks people, after all.
She sticks some candles in the little cake, lights them and heads into the further reaches of the apartment. It’s a shoebox, but she can make rent more often than not, and they each have their own rooms, for better or worse. She starts humming the timeless classic in her usual almost-croak, long since over how a husky voice does not lend itself well to singing. Still, she sings anyway, a loud “Happy birthday to you,” that cuts off as she drops the cake in the doorway.
Lionel is collapsed on the floor, and she only prevents a fire because her bare foot stamps out the candles before the ancient carpet can catch fire. Her panic blocks out the stab of pain, and she dives to her knees beside her little brother, feeling for a pulse before grasping for his phone, dropped on a stack of pamphlets, dialling emergency services because it’s that or nothing, and she can’t handle doing nothing.
The paramedics ask her more questions than she can answer. Oh, she can answer the standard lot – medical insurance, none; patients name, Lionel Darcy St Claire; patients age, fourteen; patients date of birth, today; emergency contact, Kara St Claire – but when they ask her if he’s been showing symptoms of anything, she cannot answer. “I work a lot,” she explains, but it feels feeble to her ears, and she feels judged for this more than anything else.
Their weekend away turns into a weekend in the hospital, and the money she has saved to make the weekend worth more than most is set aside for hospital bills. Kara spends Friday night sitting vigil at his bedside, Saturday with her head in her hands and shoulders hunched, and Sunday is when someone finally decides to tell her what’s going on. There’s an excess of something in his system – something that usually results from an overdose of opioids , of painkillers.
“There weren’t any pills anywhere near him,” she says, something nagging at the back of her mind.
The doctor gives a tight smile, sympathy heavy in his eyes. “It can take a week or longer for the overdose to show any observable effects to others, especially if he’s trying to hide them,” he informs her. “This isn’t your fault,” he says, “but his liver is shutting down. Chances are that there’s nothing you could’ve done – we’ve had a lot of suicides lately. It’s unlikely that he will last out the week.”
It’s not reassuring, not at all. She gives the doctor a look that says as much, then closes her eyes. She wants to cry, but she hasn’t done that, not in years, teardrops burning away from the inside out under scalding hot water. She hears the doctor leave, but she stays there, still, with her brother and the beeping of the machines that are, apparently, doing nothing but delaying the inevitable.
She falls asleep in the armchair beside the bed, curled in on herself as though having any more warmth will make this all go away. When her phone winks onto standby after she has fallen asleep, it closes on a Google search result, the top few links showing they’ve been clicked.
is cremation cheaper than burial blacklight usa
Lionel, it turns out, has been having a much harder time than she has been aware. She reaches out to the boy she remembers as his best friend, and it is only herself, him, his sister, and two former classmates who liked having Lionel paired with them for group work come to the pathetic service she holds. She doesn’t believe in god or gods, never has, and while Lionel liked the idea of the comfort divine answers might bring, he didn’t believe either. So she can’t bring herself to hire some religious man to preach something she doesn’t believe, even if it might make the sting any less painful.
She leads the lot of them to the roof of the shoebox apartment she doesn’t need any longer but can’t bring herself to leave, high above the second-storey place she manages to afford. It’s a hideous rooftop, but the building itself is nine storeys, and the view isn’t awful. There’s a barbecue and some cushions discarded up here, an esky that’s more often empty than not, and on afternoons when Kara didn’t have to work and he found himself in the mood, they would sit up here and talk about nothing and everything.
It’s the place most attached to him that brings the least amount of pain, now.
“Don’t you want to say something? In his memory, or something?” the friend asks, when they’re standing there with the urn that holds all that remains of her brothers body. His name is Alex; he’s the most harmless person Kara knows, now. Certainly the most naive and the most delusional. His parents are moving the family to New Brightside, on the other side of Port Lyndon to Blacklight, before the end of the year, chasing job opportunities they’re lucky to have been offered. Kara cannot resent them for their escape, because she hates this city, this city that breaks the people who least deserve it; but she can add them leaving to the list of reasons she has started to write up about
Everything Kara wants to say has been said already, to a brother trapped in a medically induced coma until his liver finally gave out, because Blacklight is no different to America and doesn’t allow euthanasia.
“I remember,” she says quietly, “the summer before mom died. Li – Lionel was four. He was turning four, four years old, can you imagine? And he was – he was so damn happy. I was ten, I thought I was so damn cool, and I really, really wasn’t.
“We went to the coast for a long weekend, I think Independence Day fell on a Monday that year. And there were these teenagers there, probably – probably as old as you guys are now. Thirteen, fourteen, not old at all. I thought they were the most amazing people I’d ever met, and I was such a jackass to Li on the first day, wanting to impress them. Then, on that night, we had this little family campfire, just the four of us, and dad gave me this lecture about not being mean to my brother, about how it was my responsibility to look after him. About how I’d regret not being nice, sooner or later.
“And Lionel, he just – he got up and he sat next to me and he interrupted dad, this four year old, and he says, dead serious, ‘Kara just wanted new friends’. He didn’t hold a grudge at all, it hadn’t even upset him that I was such a – a selfish person. And I know, I know kids don’t understand that at all, they’d never see it as selfish, but usually, you know, the fact that they’re four gets to them first, and they’re all ‘my way is the only way’. But Lionel,” and she laughs faintly, bitterly, fondly; “Lionel just – skipped that stage. And it didn’t change. It never started.
“Blacklight needs more people like that,” she finished, swallowing, choking on the emotion welling up in her throat.
The service ends with everyone sad, the only dry eye Kara’s, and only because she forces it. She’s still clutching the urn, though she plans on emptying it. It’s useless to her, just another thing to decorate the apartment, but it feels more important than that. After all, it’s her little brother in her arms. So she shuts down the thoughts that have been driving her crazy, the ones insisting a pot of ash shouldn’t mean anything, that an unmarked grave would be worth more to her.
But it’s Lionel. He’s all she’s had for three years now, he’s the reason she’s a lower class citizen, and she promised she’d take care of him. She swore.
I’ve never broken a promise before, she thinks, and then flinches from the thought, closes her eyes to it, refuses to acknowledge it again.
She’s got work, anyway. This – this debate can wait.
Kara is three months from her twenty-first birthday when she finds out she’s pregnant.
It isn’t much of a discovery, really. It’s actually impressive it hasn’t happened sooner – she’s heard horror stories of clients and pimps sabotaging others’ birth control, which is why she takes her prescribed pills meticulously, always made sure she has a supply even when money gets tight. That’s something that doesn’t happen much, not anymore, she’s even got savings.
And, apparently, a child on the way.
Maybe I should consider those god things again, she thinks as she wraps and dumps the test. It’d certainly explain the number of things that are fucking with me.
Still – still. She’s been alone for long enough that a bastard child sounds like a good idea, or at least one she doesn’t want to dismiss out of hand. She puts a lot of thought into the technicalities, makes lists and checks them twice.
In reality, her mind is made up the second that little plus sign shows up – the planning comes with the knowledge that a whore isn’t going to make the kind of mother she wants to be.
“You have a daughter,” is what the midwife says, smiling warmly at Kara. Kara is exhausted, feels sweat soaked and disgusting, and there are textbooks at home she is supposed to be revising, unable to take time off even for this – she’s taken advantage of the break from whoring (“Can’t very well have you giving birth in the middle of a good fuck,” he had insisted, which was crass but meant she got time off from wor) to pick up the business course she found in the pamphlets in her brothers’ room, all those years ago. “Would you like to hold her?”
“Please,” Kara says immediately, tired and almost pleading, reaching for the infant. The midwife laughs, more open and affectionate than anyone Kara has spent time with in a long time, and gently arranges the baby in her arms.
“Have you decided on a name for her, yet?”
Kara hums. She’s staring at her new child, at her family, wonder in her wide green eyes. The baby has blonde hair on her head, like Kara’s, and her eyes, for the moment, are shut as she doses. She’s a beautiful little girl, bundled into the blanket and onesie the maternity ward provides. Kara is absolutely certain she’s never going to make anything this perfect again, and immediately feels immensely guilty that she’s stuck picking up on the whoring again just as soon as Faust tires of her sabbatical. All the more reason to finish this business course, to pick up on dreams she had back in high school, that, apparently, Lionel remembered in the week before he succumbed to his suicide attempt.
(She still doesn’t know what caused it, or what she missed, if she could have stopped it. She constantly faces what-ifs and dreams and nightmares of possibilities, subconscious images so realistic she wakes up waiting to tell Lionel about it – and then the memories hit and she curls back up, chokes back the emotion, refuses the tears she still hasn’t shed. But what-ifs are useless and the past cannot be changed: Blacklight breaks people. She has known this all her life.)
“Darcy Artemis St Claire,” she answers the midwife at last, leaning down to kiss her little girls forehead. Darcy feels right, which she didn’t expect, but it just – it suits the person in her arms, belongs to her in a way Kara has heard some mothers’ say is possible, but didn’t believe. The midwife says something about paperwork and vanishes to find it, pulling the crib over so Kara can put her baby to bed, if she chooses.
When she’s alone with Darcy, Kara presses her lips to the top of her babies’ head yet again. “You’re going to be brilliant,” she murmurs, almost silent. “You’re not going to have a life like mine. I’ll never let you feel alone, I promise. You’re never going to have to swear yourself to – to someone like Faust or Craig or anyone else. I swear, Darcy. We don’t know each other well yet, but we will, and it is going to be fantastic. I promise you.”
She should learn to keep her mouth shut.
Darcy opens her eyes more and more, and there’s something familiar in them. It’s only once Kara is forced to go back to work, cajoling the elderly neighbour into caring for Darcy for the few hours she has to be gone, that she figures it out.
She’s lying in bed with Faust, waiting for him to tell her she can get out, go home, collect her pay direct to a bank account she always transfers the money straight out of, when it comes to her. Darcy doesn’t have her eyes, but they’ve always been familiar. Kara has a lot of regulars, people she’s seen since coming back to work.
“She’s got your eyes,” she blurts without thinking, and immediately starts cursing herself out internally, more than she usually does. She promised Darcy she’d never owe herself to someone like Faust, and here she is, piquing his curiosity.
“I’m not giving you alimony. Keep your bastard child away from me,” he instructs.
She immediately wants to leap to her daughters defence, but she stops herself. She doesn’t want him in Darcy’s life, after all – she promised Darcy, and she’s never going to know that this one time, Kara didn’t defend her. “I don’t want your hush money,” she snaps, getting out from the bed he fucked her in.
She feels dirty, but that’s normal, after any time spent with Faust at all – any time spent working at all. She’s almost finished her course, though, and then she can work on starting a store, the way she wanted to as a teen. She’s almost out. Finally.
Kara isn’t exactly counting down the days, but she is closer to relieved than she’s felt for a long time.
“What’s this I hear,” Faust says, speaking very slowly, “about you studying?”
He says it like it’s a dirty word, but it’s Kara who is alarmed. She’s got a contract with him that doesn’t say it, but everyone knows that once Faust has you, you don’t get out. The contract doesn’t say it, but everyone knows the rules: no studying, no betterment of yourself, no terminating your employment. Whores get out only once they’re too old to be appealing, businesspeople get out when they can payout more than Faust thinks they are worth, mercs don’t get out.
The exception is when they get dead.
Who told you, is the first question on her tongue, but she doesn’t ask. Even if he answers, it won’t do her any good. “It doesn’t say anything in my contract about me not being allowed to pursue other uses of my time, as long as it doesn’t impact my earnings. It hasn’t, therefore, you have no reason to be like this.” She folds her arms over her chest, the better to hide her fisted hands.
He laughs, long and loud and cruel. “Your contract means nothing. I maintain the terms because it amuses me, but if you are betraying me, Caramel, then you need to be punished. You’re nothing more than a particularly pretty slut, spreading your legs for whatever cash you can get your hands on.”
Kara hates that name, but she freezes, and cannot move. He raises a hand and two men come in, along with a woman she’s barely aware of, some other whore, one of the older ones – one of the broken ones.
“Do it,” he instructs.
The men get between the two women, but it’s the woman who catches Kara’s attention. She’s tiny and hunched and doesn’t have an ounce of confidence in her movements – and she’s walking right for the room where Darcy is sleeping.
“What are you doing?” Kara exclaims, lunging forward. One of the men grab her wrist, the better to prevent her from moving.
“You want to take one of my toys away?” Faust sneers. Kara has never wanted to attack him as much as she does now. “I will take yours. After all, she’s half mine, isn’t she? What was it you said – she has my eyes.”
In the other room, the woman must have picked up Darcy; the baby starts to cry. There are quiet shushing sounds, but they don’t work – Kara and the neighbour are the only people who can get her to be quiet, once she starts crying. Kara doesn’t know if it’s a temperament thing or what, but she doesn’t mind, not as long as she can get there to stop it. “No,” she gasps, then repeats it louder, wrenching out of the grip of the lackey, “No! Don’t you dare, don’t even think about it, I’ll – I’ll go to the police, or I’ll hire someone to get you, Faust, just watch me – get off me – don’t touch her!”
The last shout comes from the older whore showing the wailing infant to Faust. And – yes, okay, he’s the source of the sperm that made Darcy possible, but he’s not her father, and he looks at the baby as though she is some new plaything. Figures, Kara will think later, but for now, she is too panicked, too defensive, too amped up to do anything. “Stop that,” he tells Darcy, but if anything it only makes her cry louder. He rolls his eyes and dismisses both the whore and the baby with a wave of his hand, and Kara is reminded again of how offended she was, when she realised who made her daughter possible. “You, too. Stop it,” he orders, not even looking at the crying child. “The police won’t act against me, and no one you could find would dare go against me. I own this city, I own you, and now, I own your daughter.”
“Fuck you, Faust,” she spits, tugging ineffectually against the grip of the merc. One of them shifts behind her, not that she can see it, and lifts something. Faust nods in front of her, and she opens her mouth to keep protesting, to keep yelling, to talk sense into the man who is kidnapping a baby he wanted nothing to do with less than a year ago.
Only something soft goes over her mouth and nose, muffling her shouts, and when she inhales the air is sickly sweet. Her eyes go wider, and she’s at once disgusted and horrified and incensed, but it doesn’t mean anything. After all – she isn’t immune to chloroform.
His words are a premonition:
The police do nothing. He has half a claim on a child, and if she can’t keep it safe from one little home invader, clearly she isn’t fit for custody, and less than a tenth of the police force in Blacklight aren’t in Faust’s pocket –
She can’t hire anyone to help. She doesn’t have the money, and she doesn’t trust the sort of people she could hire, and one in maybe every two hundred residents of Blacklight would maybe consider doing something that will piss off Faust –
There’s no one who will volunteer to help. She knows people who might not like Faust’s methods, but they are quiet and constrained and won’t act against him, and she couldn’t ask them to anyway, not without becoming as bad as him (which, honestly, wouldn’t be that bad, if she got her baby back) –
His words are a challenge:
He says he owns her, but she refuses to be owned by someone who no longer has anything over her. He took her daughter, and she’s not powerful enough to right the wrong, not yet –
But he can’t do anything worse to her now, so why should she listen to a word he says?
“Y’know,” X says. He’s a hulking figure, leaning against the glass cabinet she’s fixing the display of, completely at home in the meticulously kept almost-open store. “when we met, I didn’t think you’d end up at this point.”
“Yeah?”
“I mean, common whore – no offence – to the owner of a gun store? It’s almost a 180.”
Kara snorts, because that’s the best she can offer while she’s got her hands on an engraved Colt. She rests it gently on the cushion and slides the drawer shut, locking it tight before she looks up at him. “Says the guy who gave me the idea in the first place.”
“You were at a gun show, of course that’s why I thought you were there. It’s that or you’re a gun bunny.”
“That’s not a thing,” she says drily, because he’s been trying to make it a thing at least as long as she’s known him. He hasn’t succeeded, not yet. She’s not going to let him – at least, not around her. Not on her corner of this cesspool.
“It’s totally a thing.”
She scoffs hard enough that her throat feels raw, and almost chokes on nothing. He pushes the bottle of water on the counter towards her, raises a brow at her. “Thanks,” she says, once she’s got it down without coughing anything up.
“Don’t mention it,” he says. Then it’s his turn to laugh, and roll his eyes. “I have no idea what you’re thanking me for.”
There are a lot of things. She met X at a dark point in her life, and while things haven’t gotten any lighter, she still constantly feels as though she owes him. “Closing your shop to come help me open, obviously,” she says, but it’s only one of a much longer list.
He knows. The smile he gives her is soft, and he leans across the counter to tap her nose. “You’re going to figure it all out,” he says, “I know it.”
She manages a smile back at him. It’s hard to believe – but it means the world that he does already. Apparently, it’s just what friends do – and she’s been missing out.
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