#i heard deja vu for the first time at work over the speakers as we all worked like. AGES ago. the work songs have changed 4x since lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tsumtsumland · 4 years ago

Text

“bittersweet”| m.osamu x reader

genre: smut, enemies to lovers

warnings: public sexy time, blowjob, you know...smut... (as you can tell, I’m really bad at this lol)

author’s note: I’m so sorry that this installment is bit late, I’ve had quite a trying week and my motivation has been super low, anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

As a confectioner, high quality cocoa is an absolute must, especially around this time of year, one day until Valentine’s. The problem with that is: almost everyone is looking for high quality cocoa around this time of year. Which is how you find yourself in another part of Hyogo Prefecture, in a little-known gourmet store, which, unfortunately for you, is also full to the brim with people.

You manage to push your way through the crowd just enough to find a spot in the baking goods aisle. Your eyes frantically read through all the labels of items trying to come upon what you need. At last, when you do zero in on your precious cocoa, there’s only one left and you dash towards it.

Eyes on the prize. That’s the only thought in your head right now.

Just as you’re about to grab the tin of cocoa, another hand reaches for it. You lunge forward and grasp on at the same time. Both you and the other person’s grips are tight on the lone tin, and you refuse to budge.

“It’s mine!” you growl under your breath, not looking away from your coveted ingredient.

“I grabbed it first,” comes the low rumble of a man’s voice. Wait…a man???

That has your head snapping up, and what you don’t expect to meet is the apathetic gaze of a tall, (and you begrudgingly admit) handsome, man. He blinks at you with the same expression, as you flounder for a comeback.

“Yeah, well, well I NEED it!” you groan on the inside at your pathetic attempt at a rebuttal.

“I don’t care,” he responds, in the same tone, which only serves to rile you up more.

Both of your grips loosen on the tin, and it’s then you see it, it’s almost imperceptible, but there’s a challenging fire in his grey eyes. Not one for giving in, you match it with a glare of your own, refusing to back down even though his strangely dominant look has you wanting to retreat.

While both of you are caught up in your stare down, you completely miss the other hand that snakes behind you both and snatches the cocoa off the shelf.

“Listen, I don’t have time for this, I have chocolates to make!” you grit out at him, glancing at your watch.

“With what?” is his response as he raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Wha-?” you follow his gaze as he nods toward the empty shelf behind you.

All the colour drains from your face, and an almost inaudible squeak escapes your mouth at the barren shelf.

He snorts quietly, “Looks like someone got the one up on us both,” he shrugs.

The nonchalant way he moves makes your blood pressure skyrocket, and you quite literally want to dive at him and clobber his stupidly handsome face.

“This is all your fault,” you mumble under your breath, begrudgingly, letting your shoulders drop in defeat.

“What was that?” he stops, and turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing,” you hiss and push past him, making sure your shoulder nails him in the chest as you do.

You miss the amused smile on his face as you go.

It had been a while since Osamu met someone that piqued his interest. You had done what Suna and Atsumu like to call “the impossible.”

_____________________________________

The atmosphere in the club is hazy, and the heavy bass pounding through the speakers makes everything vibrate. You don’t want to be at this club right now, you’d rather be anywhere than here on Valentine’s in fact. Being the only single one out of all your friends, you’d somehow managed to get dragged here. Now you were stuck sitting by yourself at the bar glancing around hoping for an early escape.

The bartender places your glass of vodka cranberry on the counter, and you almost sigh in relief. At least the alcohol was making this disaster of a night, bearable. When you reach out for it, another hand does as well, gripping the glass at the same time you do.

“That’s mine,” you both say in unison.

The feeling of deja vu almost makes you choke on air. That all too familiar voice is closer to your ear this time, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It washes over your skin like velvet and makes you shiver.

Osamu doesn’t miss the way your grip on the glass tightens when he moves a little closer.

“We meet again,” he smirks, enjoying the way you bite your lip at his voice.

“I wish I could say it was a pleasure,” you snap, eyes narrowing at him, still bitter over your cocoa. You had to make do with regular, cheap, cocoa, for your Valentine’s truffles, and you hated it.

“It could be,” he mumbles into your ear, sending sparks shooting up your spine, “I’m Osamu, nice to meet you…again.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, “Y/n…and I wish I could say the same,” you brush your hair over your shoulder and try to turn away from him.

“Don’t tell me you’re here alone, dressed like that, on Valentine’s Day,” he adds, giving you a once over in your strappy black mini dress. He was hoping you were. It was sheer dumb luck that he ended up running into you at this club his brother dragged him to, on Valentine’s Day nonetheless.

Your mouth feels dry all of a sudden when you meet his gaze, his eyes are smouldering, and they have you clenching your thighs together.

You think maybe that’s how you ended up here...crammed into a tiny, rather fancy, bathroom stall, on your knees with his cock stuffed down your throat.

Osamu’s got one of his hands gripping on to the door of the stall, and the other is tangled in your hair guiding your head back and forth

You moan in the back of your throat and the vibration on his cock makes him grip your hair even tighter. He’s biting his lip to hold back his own noises when you take him even deeper. You pull back until only the tip is in your mouth, and swirl your tongue around it, then take him back halfway in, flattening your tongue against the sensitive underside of his meaty cock. Something akin to a growl is heard from the sinfully handsome man above you, making you look up at him from under your lashes.

The top three buttons of his fitted, black dress shirt are undone, and there’s a light sheen of sweat on his exposed chest. The red lighting from the club extends to even the restrooms, and it makes him look even more delicious…like something out of a movie (what kind of movie is up to you). He’s breathing heavily and looking down at you with that dark, but fiery gaze again. You rub your thighs together, trying to give yourself some friction.

Osamu smirks devilishly when he notices your movements, “You want to cum too, baby girl?”

You can only whine with his cock stuffed in your mouth. He yanks your head back by your hair and meets your eyes.

“Answer me when I talk to you,” the tenor of his voice is low but commanding.

“Y-yes,” you gasp out, taking the time to wipe a stray tear from the side of your face.

Osamu’s thumb grazes over the tear track almost gently, before he pushes your head back towards his cock.

“I’ll give you what you want, don’t worry,” he promises.

That fuels your need to get him off even more, you want to see this calm and collected man fall apart in your mouth.

It doesn’t take long either, a few more thrusts into your mouth that have you gagging on his length, and spurts of hot cum are flowing onto your tongue, you swallow eagerly. He pulls back when you claw at his thighs when it becomes too much. He lets the rest paint your face and exposed cleavage.

When his orgasm fades, he fixes his clothes and helps you off the floor, making sure you’re steady before letting go. He grabs some of the toilet paper, cleaning up your face and chest as much as he could.

“Well, that was…” you begin awkwardly, taking the tissue from him and tossing it in the bin.

“Fucking amazing,” he finishes unabashedly, making a blush crawl up your neck and cheeks.

He tiptoes and looks over the stall to make sure the coast is clear. It isn’t, but it’s less people than there usually is. He drags you out with him despite your squeaks of protest.

You apologize to the few women scattered around the sink and quickly wash your hands and mouth and try to look presentable again. It didn’t exactly work, but hey, at least there weren’t any tell-tale signs of cum on your black dress.

He chuckles when you drag him out of the restroom quickly, trying to lose yourself in the throngs of people. You don’t get far before he pulls you back against him, pressing your ass flush against his prominent erection.

“I owe you an orgasm,” he mumbles against your ear, as if it’s the most normal thing to be saying.

One of his hands snakes over the front of your thighs and up under your dress, ghosting over your embarrassingly soaked panties.

“For me?” he hums lowly, his pointer and middle finger tracing the slit between your legs.

You can’t help the moan that falls from your lips, grateful that the room is so loud and crowded that no one notices, your head nodding involuntarily. You gasp and swat his hand away when you feel his finger dip in between your folds.

“Not here!” you hiss, regaining control of your brain momentarily.

Just as he’s about to respond, someone calls his name and he looks up, removing his hand swiftly and pulling you to his side.

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers when you see an identical copy of the man standing next to you, in front of you, the only difference is his hair colour.

“What do you want Tsumu?” Osamu drawls.

“Ya! Where’d you go?!” Atsumu asks. “Oh hello,” he flashes you a grin and slides closer to you, only stopping when his brother puts a firm hand on his shoulder and shoves him back.

“Back off!” Osamu glowers at him.

Atsumu smirks knowingly at the both of you, though you’re nothing but confused by this entire encounter.

“Go on then,” he tells you both and turns to lose himself in the crowd of squealing girls behind him.

Osamu rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He grabs your hand and follows a different pathway to the exit.

“Where are we going?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Home, I’m hungry,” is his reply, and it makes you clench around nothing in anticipation.

Taglist: @kiyoo-omi @vs-redemption @mitzuya

#miya osamu #osamu miya #miya osamu scenarios #miya osamu imagines #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x y/n #haikyuu osamu #osamu x you #osamu x y/n #osamu x reader #osamu smut #miya osamu smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu valentine's #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic

221 notes · View notes

yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years ago

Text

COSMIC - S3:E1; Chapter One, Suzie, Do You Copy? - [Pt. 5 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

Summer brings new jobs and budding romance. But the mood shifts when Dustin’s radio picks up a Russian broadcast, and Will senses something is wrong.

a.n: thank you guys so much for waiting, I know it must have frustrating but I don't regret taking time off. FYI i ended up skipping some scenes like Hopper's talk with Mike and Joyce going home cause I just kept getting stuck

||𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Dustin is the first to reach the top of the hill, his sister, the last. And when she does, she hastily unhooks the bag from her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground before she does.

"We made it!" Dustin happily declares, choosing to ignore the bitter attitude of his cranky and overheated friends.

"Yeah, only took five hours." Max sighs, dumping her weight on the grass beside Y/n who buried her heated face in the cool grass.

"Quick," Y/n groaned, rolling herself over onto her back. "someone... water. I'm gonna be a raisin soon... please,"

Lucas's face lit up at the mention and instinctively he dropped the bag off of his shoulder and retrieved their shared canteen of water. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed and a frail smile strung across her face when she saw this. Lazily, she reached for it, expecting Lucas to hand her the refreshments she had asked for.

But a frown quickly flew across her face when she heard the flat splashing of water on grass and the obnoxious sound of guzzling. Hesitating against the downpour of golden sunlight into her eyesight, she allowed her eyelids to unscrew just enough to see Lucas downing the rest of the group's water.

Her lips drew back into a snarl, ready to chastise the boy, but her friend had beat her to the punch.

"Did you seriously just drink the rest of our water?" Max deadpans, her icy glare piercing Lucas.

"Nope," Answered Y/n from her spot on the grass, eyes peeling open again to scowl at Lucas. "I know for a fact he wouldn't do that, Max, cause that would mean I'd have to kick his ass."

Lucas cautiously met her eye, his puffed-out cheeks filled with water slowly drained themselves back into the canteen leaving behind a sheepish smile. He held out the container for Max, then Y/n as a peace offering. All he was met with were tired glowers.

"That's it. Your ass is grass, Sinclair," Y/n seethed, no real threat behind her words. Or her actions, as she showed no signs of moving other than the depleting motion of her tired heaving from her spot on the grass and a lazy pointed finger hanging in the air in his direction. It fell back to the ground. "You know, after I get up. The moment I do, it's over for you,"

Despite the creeping smirk, Max rolled her eyes at the duo as she grabbed for the duffle bag she had previously been carrying.

"Is it just me," she addresses the group as she unpacks, her mischievous smirk blossoming on her pink cheeks. "or has Y/n gotten meaner?"

Everyone shares a hum of laughter that floats amongst them, including Y/n who smiles to herself pleased, her eyes once again closed.

Unknowingly, Dustin does the same as he unpacks his duffle. A fleeting sense of deja vu passes over him.

"Yeah, it's my probably my fault," he says, beginning to put the first pieces of the Cerebro together. "all that time we spend with 'that douchebag' Steve Harrington,"

"Hey," pipes Y/n shortly. Thinking of the running joke that had started up earlier in the year thanks to Robin, her voice falls into a mocking tone. "don't talk about mom like that, Dustin."

Dustin gives her a funny look before ultimately rolling his eyes as she laughs quietly to herself. The sight drew a smile on Will's face and he briefly paused his unpacking to smile at her, then shook his head returning to work.

"Weirdo," Dustin mumbles. "Alright, sunbathing time is over. Come on. Get up and help us!"

It's Y/n's turn to roll her eyes and she does so with another impressive groan, though she does comply. She rolls herself over and sits herself up so she is sitting on her folded legs, and gets to work on the bag she had previously discarded.

What members of the party remain pull together underneath the setting sun and got to work. Under Dustin's word, the team was able to make quick work of the scraps they had lugged with them.

Lucas, Max, and Dustin took up the work of assembling the base of the radio antenna as Will and Y/n got to work dismantling several bare umbrellas for the makeshift directors. Dustin, who had been so engrossed in his work, had gotten to his third strip of tinfoil only to realize the roll was running thin and that Y/n had been sneaking strips to make various types of hats; one shaped like a baseball cap resting on her head, the second on Will's was shaped like a wizards cap to match Will the Wise, and a third, half-finished cowboy hat sat tucked away behind her back on the grass when Dustin's suspicions grew.

Dustin had learned better with the duct tape; keeping it on his person and only distributing it to those who asked. And he had been so caught up in it guarding the duck tape to avoid another incident he failed to stop the first.

After finishing her section of Cerebro, Y/n had gotten to work on her "side project", this one in the shape of a bucket hat for Max. Dustin tried to scold her again, but she knew they were just about one strip of duct tape away from finishing.

After some conniving on Max and Y/n's part—out of an act of spite, Max defiantly accepted the cap with honor as Y/n placed it on her head, both of them glaring at Dustin—the party came together to hoist the now finished Cerebro into the summer air.

"Pretty impressive, right?" Dustin declares as they all gaze up at their finished work.

Several of them nod.

"Now," he says, all but throwing himself on the grass beside the receiver. "ready to meet my love?"

Dustin is met with scattered agreement.

"Yeah,"

"Sure,"

"Go ahead,"

Y/n, however gladly takes a seat across from her brother, stretching herself out in the grass as she finally enjoys the absence of work in the sun. "Dustin, as your sister, I can honestly say that I have been waiting for this moment all my life. Fair warning though, I will be talking her ear off."

A hopeful grin touches Dustin, slowing blooming on his face. And despite her next words, he finds himself laughing a little.

"But I'm afraid I can't promise I won't be telling her anything and everything embarrassing about you."

His face falls flat, a hint of playfulness still lingering. And as he does so, Will gives into Y/n's lead and takes a seat beside her in the grass. Dustin only narrows his eyes at the pair.

"Telling you really was a mistake, wasn't it?"

Y/n breaks out in a devilish grin and she is unable to stop the quiet cackle that tumbles out of her, yet still it turns Will's insides to jelly. He, like his friends, had been watching the siblings' exchange with great amusement.

"Yes," she agrees, eagerly. "yes it was."

Dustin rolls his eyes before bringing the device up to his mouth, his fingers already on the speaker button.

"Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over."

A silence falls over the group as they wait, the only sounds to fill it are the crackling of the Cerebro's interference and the sweet sounds of nature that put even Max at ease. But no response comes.

Dustin shrugs it off, scratching his nose nervously as he mutters softly up to his waiting friends.

"One sec. She's probably... She's still there," he smiles, turning back to the speaker in his hand. "Suzie... This is Dustin. Do you copy? Over."

The others begin to shift uncomfortably where they stand; the awkward tension growing heavy in the air and they share uneasy glances outside of Dustin's field of vision.

"I'm sure she's there," says Dustin, his voice so soft and quiet it was nearly carried away by the breeze. "You know, maybe, she's just like, busy or--"

"Yeah," Lucas quickly agrees, avoiding eye contact and adjusting his cowboy hat.

"You know, it's around dinner time."

Everyone is quick to mumble an agreement, and Y/n, desperate for something to keep her busy and her mind off of whatever was happening mindlessly pulled a pack of gum from her pockets. Her eyes were fixed on a random spot in the grass as she unwrapped a bit of f/f gum and slipped into her mouth. Before putting the packet back, she just as mindlessly pulls another slip and offers one to Max who gladly accepts.

"Suzie," Dustin tries again. "this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over."

Will watched Dustin continue his efforts to contact his girlfriend and couldn't help but note the bit of sadness growing in his chest at the sight. Dustin seemed so hopeful, and to see—

The spiraling thought was interrupted when he felt something move his hair; he smiled when he realized Y/n was readjusting the tinfoil wizard's cap on his head that had been slipping. He breathed a quiet laugh, watching her lips twitch up in a smile as she readjusts a few strands of hair she had messed up

"Suzie, do you copy? This is Dustin. Over."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"...do you copy? Over."

The summer moonlight spilled out onto the hill still occupied by five of seven party members; Max and Lucas, who lie on their backs side by side as they stargaze together while Dustin was still at Cerebro. Will—like his friends—wanted to make most of the scenery and found himself sprawled on his back in the grass. The back of his head was resting on Y/n's leg as she mindlessly played with his hair, her stare a million miles away. His eyes began to flutter closed having grown content by her warm and soothing touch.

"Suzie! This is Dustin, do you copy? Over."

The breeze picked up in a pleasant wave, making the trees sing around them. And it was gentle enough to pull Y/n from her thoughts, and back on her brother.

"Suzie, this is your Dustin. Do you copy? Over."

It dawned on her just how hard it was to see him in the darkness, and it hit her just how long they had been there. As her fingers continued to fiddle with Will's bangs, her downcast eyes landed on his face; the sight of him in a state of such relaxation put a smile on her face and a warm feeling in her chest.

He had been through so much for so long and was given so little time to readjust. This was one of the many reasons she enjoyed planning campaigns with him; he was always in his element, supercharged and bursting with ideas. That is when he could manage not to lose concentration whenever a love song came on the radio that didn't make him all dopey and lovesick.

At the thought, Y/n felt a heat creep all over her skin as it always did whenever she thought about Will—but she knew it had nothing to do with her powers. It was just Will. And his innate ability to lift her spirits higher than the skyline while simultaneously bringing her back down to earth; A superpower all his own.

Just as it had happened only just the other night with Will, the lovesick gaze holding her hostage was broken when the other took notice.

"What?" Will whispered up to her in a funny smile.

The softness in his voice pulled Y/n back down and into reality where she was faced with the embarrassing truth of being caught. She shook her head with a simper, a mischievous idea blooming in her mind as one hand crept out of sight and curled around the discarded tinfoil hat he placed in the grass.

"Nothing," she whispered, shrugging. Y/n scrunched her nose as she put on a silly look of fake disgust. "Just getting tired of this ugly mug is all,"

She placed the tinfoil hat over his face where it wobbled, threatening to fall. Y/n smiled again, breathing a laugh through her nose as he laid there still. Oh, so easily she could imagine the unimpressed look now plastered on his face.

"Funny," came his muffled, echoed response.

"Right?"

"Suzie, this is—"

"Dustin!" Cried Max suddenly. Her frustration had been growing with every call and it was a wonder she hadn't broken yet. "Come on! She isn't there."

"She's there, alright?" Dustin argued. "She'll pick up,"

Will craned his head up to look at the disturbance and in doing so sent the tinfoil dunce cap tumbling off his face and back into the grass.

"Maybe Cerebro isn't working?" Will offered.

"Or maybe Suzie doesn't exist," wondered a greatly agitated Lucas.

"She exists!" Dustin defended, the pitch of his voice rising as he got more defensive.

"She's a genius AND she's hotter than Phoebe Cates?" Lucas countered. "No girl is that perfect."

Max shot up from her spot in the grass and cast down a look at her boyfriend.

"Is that so?"

Lucas is quick to back peddle and throws himself into a sitting position with a growing look of concern.

"I mean," Lucas stammers. "you're perfect. I mean, you-you're per—I mean like you're perfect in your special way—you're own special way."

Max finally releases the laugh she had been holding in and shakes her head. "Relax, I was teasing. I'm obviously perfect and Dustin is obviously lying."

"Max," Y/n sighs. Her eyes flickering sympathetically to her brother who is downcast.

But Max doesn't think much of it and climbs to her feet. She throws her hand out for Lucas to take and pulls him to his feet. "Come on, Don Juan."

Together they start down the hill, prompting the final couple remaining to follow as they pick up the pieces left behind.

"Where are you going?" Dustin calls out to Max and Lucas.

The redhead barely throws a look over her shoulders as they retreat. "Home,"

Y/n watches with great disappointment as they retreat down the hill. She finally broke away when Will offered his hand from where he was standing.

"Well, guess it's just us," says Dustin longingly, not yet realizing they too were heading out.

"Um," he checks his watch, wincing at the timing. Like his girlfriend, he sends Dustin an apologetic look. "it's late. I'm sorry."

Dustin doesn't bother to hide his disappointment, but Will perks up with a hopeful smile. "But maybe tomorrow we can play D&D?" He flashes a smile to Y/n. "We've been working on a campaign lately. We've been dying to show you, we think you'd like it."

Y/n nods eagerly. "Yeah, and maybe you can tell us more about Suzie?"

"Yeah," Her brother nods, sad eyes still locked on the grass and limply his shoulders rise in a shrug. "sure."

Will tries again, giving his friend an earnest smile. "Welcome home,"

Dustin nods again and Will begins down the hill. He looks back when Y/n's hand slips out of his own to see her lingering. "I'll catch up in a minute,"

Will nods and starts after his friends leaving the Henderson siblings alone. Dustin is the first to break the ice, his voice sullen.

"She is real, you know," he mumbles, head nearly sagging all the way to the grass.

"I believe you, Dustin," says Y/n. She gestures to Will's retreating form with a gentle smile. "We both do."

His mood doesn't lift but Dustin's gaze does curiously. He's surprised to find nothing but sincerity in her eyes.

"I'm sorry about today. I really am. We were really looking forward to it," pessimism flashes across her face. "well, I know Will and I were."

"Is that why you guys are leaving?" He can't help but ask bitterly, making Y/n frown.

"You know it's not like that," subconsciously she starts fiddling with her watch to take away from the worry that had been growing all day. Her gaze stays on Will and the longer it does the more obvious it is she's scared. "It really is getting late and... Well, honestly I think something's bothering him. Like there's something he's not telling me. I don't know, it could be nothing but I'd feel better if I saw him home."

"I guess I can't blame you for being careful with him. I just— I guess I pictured today going a lot differently."

Y/n nods. "I did too."

A small silence falls between them. It's filled with nothing but unsaid words and the melodic choir of crickets singing to the night sky.

"For what it's worth, I know I've been teasing you pretty bad but... I am really excited to meet Suzie. I'm sure she's great,"

"Thanks," For the first time since before the sun had set, Dustin's lips hook upward in a threat to smile. "She is..."

"Get home safe, Romeo," Y/n quips. When he sends her a soft 'you too' she decides it's gotten too chummy and impulsively she yanks his hat over his eyes, chuckling at the look on his face.

Dustin chuckles under his breath and eagerly fixes his hat just in time to watch Y/n scurry down the hill to catch up with Will.

"You too," he mumbles more to himself than anything.

He watches as Y/n casts one apologetic look over her shoulder and that's that. He now stands alone on the hill next to the homemade radio tower, watching sadly as everyone leaves. It's nearly enough to break the dam of tears he can feel collecting in his eyes but he perseveres.

And nearly jumps out of his skin when the transceiver comes to life. It angrily spits out static and Dustin throws himself to the ground, making a grab for the speaker.

"Suzie? Suzie is that you?"

A voice can be heard here and there; not the voice of his beloved Suzie but much deeper, and unmistakably Russain. He snaps himself out of his daze and makes quick work of doing his best to clear the interference. His assessment was right; the voice was Russian, and it calmly spoke a string of words he wished desperately to understand. And yet, no matter how confusing, he can't help but feel his skin crawl with excitement when he realizes...

Cerebro had just intercepted a top-secret Russian transmission. Arguably the most vital piece in the puzzle of what would come to be known as the most important summer of their young lives.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Collection of POC Mental Health resource links can be found here thanks to user @ recoverr

Help Benson Williams reach his gofundme goal to pay his medical bills and free him from unjust charges by donating and/or sharing. More info in the link, the gofundme link is at the bottom of the article. [Warning: some images may be be hard for some viewers]

Here is a link to a constantly updated Twitter thread of gofundmes, PayPals, and cashapps, etc of anti-asian hate crime victims that you can help by donating and even sharing thanks to user @ sasponella on Twitter. Every little bit helps

────────────────

Tag List:

@dickkwad @aimee-lucass @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa @miscellaneoustoasts @happyandlonely-blog @missmulti @youpi-chan @peeperparkour @ba-responds @bibliophilesquared @blogforhoes @witch-of-all-things-soft @shawkneecaps @whothefuckstolemykeds @mirdall @fishswimbetterunderwater @daughter-of-the-stars11 @stranger-things4 @kpopanimegirl @nightbu-g @lozzybowe @bluechildrenlickmytoes @spiderbitch69420

❥ Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist! ❥

60 notes · View notes

fairymadnessyeah · 4 years ago

Text

Clone High

I rewatched Clone High today, after finishing a fic, and it gave me an idea for a second season, or a reboot season, if it ever happens. Warning: this will have JoanFK shipping in it.

So, in this season, everything is almost the same as the first one. The names of the episodes and what they are about, is all basically the same, except: all the students have a weird sense of deja vu. For example: when the students talk about something that happened last year, they get confused, and they all remember something cold, but they can’t put their finger on it. Mostly they shrug it off. However, feelings don’t disappear, so... Abe is a little more aware of Joan, Cleo wants Abe more, Joan is more hopeless about Abe and developing a weird crush on Kennedy, and JFK the same.

So...

Episode 1

Things go pretty much the same.

The hotline happens, JFK’s ultimatum, and Abe wanting to get Cleo.

But this time, Abe get real alcohol. He vaguely remembers failing to do so before, so he somehow gets real alcohol.

The party goes pretty much the same, and Joan tells Cleo to get with Abe.

But this time, when JFK offers her a drink, she accepts it with the idea to forget this night. She gets a bit tipsy though, and ends up making out with JFK.

The police come, but they take Abe and Gandhi. Joan was nowhere to be seen, since she was making out with JFK at the moment.

Principal Scudworth and Mr. Butlertron crash the party, but only to see what effect would the alcohol make in the clones.

The fact that the clones lost a year is supposed to be a mystery.

Episode 2

This episode is almost the same.

Except that when Abe takes the sponsor, the brand goes: “Didn’t that kid look familiar? I feel like I have seen him before...”

Joan still goes to JFK, and he is more like: “I uh see you are back for more,”

The episode still continues the same, but at the end, Joan and JFK are seen talking.

“We will never speak about what happend at your party ever again,”

“Why uh not?”

“Because it’s never going to happen again,”

Next scene, both of them come out of a the school with their hair and clothes messed up, and lipstick all over their mouths.

Episode 3

The episode goes the same, but Joan doesn’t end like a speaker.

She instead goes to the Grassy Knol to sorrow in her embarrassment.

Marie Antoinette helps her a little. She tells her that she isn’t confused about her future or her past, but she is confused about her present.

Also, Scudworth is there to see what the clones remember from the past year. He is happy to find out they don’t remember much.

Episode 4

So, the school film festival, and pretty much is all the same.

Except, Joan’s entry is about her confusion between JFK and Abe.

Lincoln doesn’t get it, but Kennedy does.

Joan, who is tired of Abe’s bullshit, enters a friends with benefits agreements with JFK. He can still be a player, and acts as her stress reliever, or rebound fuck.

Also, Scudworth gets visited by some ministers. They were in charge of the secret board of shadowy figures. They haven’t heard from them in a while, and they are suspicious. Butlertron saves the day, again.

Episode 5

The PJXTs come around and things go like the Episode did.

Except for a moment a moment in which JFK calls Joan ‘Dolphin Tat’.

Episode 6

So, Joan’s learns about the team not allowing girls or animals on the team by JFK, on one of their meetings.

She still dotes her incredible disguise, and Cleo still hits on her.

The episode finishes with JFK realizing he is not into guys, he is simply into Joan. He likes her.

Episode 7

Again, the episode goes like the original. But at the end, we see Joan go back to JFK for comfort.

Episode 8

Joan becomes homeless, and moves in with Cleo. They don’t get along, but it’s not as bad, because Joan is moving on from Abe.

Cleo does find out about them, when Joan sneaks out and comes back smelling like JFK’s perfume. She plans on telling the whole school, and things get ugly.

They start fighting, until Joan threatens to publish Cleo’s puberty pictures on the school’s newspaper. They kind of form a truce.

Meanwhile, JFK and Gandhi also fight. Gandhi wants to go spy on the girls, but JFK stops him. Only he get to stare at Joan in a girl on girl action.

Episode 9

This is the episode that completely changes. Not because I don’t like the episode, but because I love it too much to change it.

The episode is still a musical.

Fritz Habers clone (the inventor of the mustard gas) gave out cards that had a mysterius dust in it. It was supposed to be a prank, with the dust making them stink, but something else happened.

The people who opened the cards, started acting like love-sick fools. A few were saved. Gandhi, cause Fritz thinks he already smelled bad. Abe, cause his neck is too long and he didn’t get to smell it. And Cleo, cause Fritz thought he might get with her, if he was the only good smelling dude.

The dust works as a watered-down sex-pollen. It might make you horny, but not to the extent of stripping in the middle of a crowd to have sex. And it makes you blind to everything else but that person.

The first song is the group seeing the student under the dust for the first time. Thing of ‘What’s this?’ from Nightmare Before Christmas, but with love themes.

What’s this? What’s this? There’s smooshing everywhere.

Fritz finds the group that hadn’t been contaminated, and he explains what happened. They search for a way to create an antidote, and they find a journal that might have the answer, but it’s in french.

They start looking for Joan, who Abe knows hasn’t opened the letter yet. Here come the second song. It’s a version of ‘If you seek Amy’ by Britney Spears.

Oh, oh; Tell me, have you seen her?; Cause we, oh, oh; Don’t know how to speak French!

By the end of the song they find her, she is opening the card. There is a whole slow-motion montage as the dust hits her and the others go: NOOO.

Joan blinks for a few seconds, then looks back at the group, and the next song comes. It’s ‘Girlfriend’ by Avril Lavigne, but instead of saying Girlfriend, it says GirlfriendS. And for a while, they think she is singing it to Abe. But when she is in front of him, she pushes Abe aside, and runs to JFK that was behind them.

I also like to think that the rest of the people around are dancing and doing the chorus every time there is a song.

We cut to Principal Scrubworth, who is looking at all of this from his office. He also sings a song, ‘Crazy=Genius’ by P!ATD.

While he sings, he dances around his matchines.

Then we go back to the crew who are at the Grassy Knol sad, while the other are all around being happy. Then, Marie Antoinette comes and translates the journal.

The next day, the students come into the school. The last song happens, it’s ‘Walking on sunshine’ by Katrina & the Waves. By the end of the song, the fire alarm goes off, and the sprinkles wet everybody with the antidote.

When they snap out of it, Joan and JFK are embracing. She notices how everybody is staring, and decks him, before leaving.

They break off their arrangement, bc everybody knows now.

Also, Fritz is taken to the frezzer by Principal Scrubworth.

Episode 10

We see Ponce trying to cheer up JFK since Joan rejected him, but he still dies.

I would find it funny if this is a recurring joke. That ponce dies every season, and after a while it becomes a thing of, ‘has he died yet? this is the longest he’s gone- oh no, forget it, he died,’

JFK mourns him. Joan has been avoidig him since the dust incident, so he goes to the other perso he once had for comfort, Cleo.

Abe is mad. He is more annoyed at JFK in here, bc he thinks that he took advantage of Joan. He is actually jealous.

The episode continues the same way, except for the end.

When Abe goes to console him, Joan is already there. He starts feeling something in hid chest.

Episode 11

So, Snowflake day comes. Joan doen’t like the holiday, and Abe needs to get an expensive gift for Cleo.

JFK tries to show Joan how good Snowflake day is, and they go all around town doing things.

JFK is trying to win her over, but Joan is still confused. She likes Kennedy, but she also likes Abe.

She understands the meaning of Snowflake day by the end of the episode, with the help of a trashy celebrity. Maybe a Kardashian?

And she also gets a gift from JFK that he made himself. Since she doesn’t like the consumerism of the holiday.

Abe, on that regard, instead of buying Cleo an expensive gift, he buys her a gift with some extra cash he had. The rest of his money went to buy an expensive gift for Joan. He saw it and thought of her.

It’s nice, but Joan likes JFK’s gift more. Cleo is pissed.

Episode 12

Abe is in thin ice. He has to do an extraordinary promposal to Cleo, but he can’t stop thinking about how Joan has nobody to go with.

The only one who asked her was JFK, and she is thinking about accepting.

He tries to help her get a date for prom, one that isn’t Kennedy.

They go through multiple makeovers, but in the end, Cleo takes matters into her own hands.

If she gets Joan to go with somebody else, then she gets her promposal from Abe and she wins.

She gives her the same makeover from before, and asks Napoleon to take her.

When Abe sees her, he realizes he might have feelings for her. But she is with Napoleon, so he respects that, It’s better than JFK.

Episode 13

Abe makes his Promposal, and Cleo accepts.

JFK tries to asks Joan again, but before he can, Napoleon interrupts.

They go to prom, and Joan is clearly not having a good time. She isn’t acting like a giggly vapid slut in here, but it’s clear she is not happy.

JFK sees her sad, so he goes to talk to her. She tells him that she misses him, and that she would have accepted his invitation.

Abe sees them talking and tries to stop it, but Cloe jumps him, promising sex.

He leaves with her, but the only thing he can see is Joan.

Meanwhile, Joan got rid of her makeover, and is talking with JFK. He compliments her, telling her he doesn’t need a makeover, and the two kiss.

They agree to be boyfriend and girlfriend, and they go to dance.

Abe come looking for her sees them, but becomes dramatic, and gives a speech about locking himself in the frezzer, to forget all about this.

When he goes to do that, however, he unfrezzes the secret board of shadowy figures.

The season ends there

#clone high #joan of arc #jfk #abe lincoln #gandhi #cleopatra #joan x jfk #joanfk #cleo x abe #season 2 #what i think #Idk #im sleep deprived #and tired from writing an 11K fic the last three days #might delete later

81 notes · View notes

zawasscarf · 4 years ago

Text

Nanami Kento- Fireworks

genre: fluff!!

synopsis: nanami realises how much he misses his past lover after spending late night of work at the office with them, during new years.

warnings: none!

prespective: third person

notes: reader is gender-neutral.

noise overflowed the office this late afternoon, and only began to die down by the late evening, as men in business suits, and women in fancy dresses bid each other a happy new year, and a good holiday, wishing them well as they left through the exit. He sat at his cramped cubicle, typing away at his yellowed keyboard. He wasn't particularly fond of parties, or his colleagues, or the office for that matter, but work was bound to overflow when everyone tossed aside their tasks by the end of the month. It irked him to think he would have to handel the consequences of their actions when they get back, and what bothered him even more was the fact that either way, he would have to work overtime. His hardworking nature and his sense of responsibility -which often were very bothersome to him- forced him take it upon himself to work through some issues now, so it won't reek havoc onto him later.

besides, it was a good excuse to use whenever someone asked him to join their god-forsaken party.

Though, it was nearly impossible for him to concentrate, let alone get any work done while the most obnoxious pop music blasted through their newly bought speakers in the other room, echoing through the walls of their facility. He had no choice but to stay at his cubicle for an hour or maybe two, staring at the glowing screen, at the unfinished spread sheet infront of hin. His eyes shut for a minute, trying to rest his tired eyes for even just a minute. It has been a long, long day. And yet, he did not want to leave the office, knowing that nothing will welcome him back but the coldness of his apartment.

The second he opened his eyed he found himself alone, with only his computer and the flickering lights of the city outside the window lightening up the room. His eyes hurt from staring into the screen since the morning, and that 'minute' of rest he had did not at all help, but relieved that his colleagues had dissappeared, he leaned forward onto his chair, getting to work immediately.

"And then there were two."

Their playful tone and their voice had frankly startled Nanami. He glanced up from his computer, and saw them standing at the door, hands behind their back as they walked towards him. Their face was easier to admire when they stepped into view. They looked dashing as they always were. He had taken glimpses at everyone who was attending their little party, and he could easily tell, that no one were to compare to them. What they wore was elegant, yet queit simple. It wasn't the first time Nanami saw them in formal attire, it came with the job, after all, but tonight, they looked indescribable. When they came to a stop infront of him, a cubicle much like his seperated them. "I thought you left with the others." He gave them a polite smile, however the starstruck gleam in his eyes didn't falter.

A long time passed since he last saw them, and even longer time since they spoke to one another. Even when they worked at the same office, just cubicles apart. He would find himself often wondering where they were, what they were doing. He had heard from a few colleagues that they were out of town for a month, or two, on a trip around Japan, trying to land a contract with another business. They smiled warmly back at him. "No," Their reply was firm. It was something he always liked about them, their decisiveness, their unnatural talent at body language. They stood serious, yet not in way where it came off as imposing or overbearing. In fact, they looked at ease. "I didn't see you at the party.. though parties were never really your thing, were they?" He was not sure if it was the lack of sleep, or the absence of a good source of light, but he could swear that he didn't imagine seeing their cheeks tint. "—so I assumed you're working." They walked towards the cubicle beside him, and took half of the files Nanami had placed near himself. "And I thought it was unfair for you to work through all of this on your own, since it isn't even yours, so I am helping."

"Oh." Taken by surprise, he leaned back into his -small, and queit frankly, uncomfortable- leather seat. "I see.." They were no longer looking at him, but at the screen, clicking a few buttons, starting up their computer. "But you really don't have to, you should enjoy your night." Their chuckle interrupted him, and their luminescent eyes that brought shame to the thousands of stars in the sky, looked into his worn-out jade ones.

"I don't have anything better to do tonight, Nanami."

His eyes widened for barely a moment.

"Are you sure?" He asked, he was not sure why he was making it seem like he wanted them to leave, maybe it was fear. fear that he would end up doing something, saying something that would ruin what was already ruined. But he couldn't shake the feeling his chest, the absolute warmth he felt whenever they looked at him. "I am sure you do..its new year's eve."

They reclined back into their seat, "I suppose I could be in a pub, or a club..or having dinner with one of our colleagues." Their eyes met his for a second, watching how he would react. Nanami could not explain the feeling, the only way that he could explain it is that it felt similar to the feeling he always felt when he was around a certain white haired friend of his. Sheer annoyance, frustration, even. His hand involuntarily loosened the tie around his neck, trying to reduce whatever suffocating feeling this was. Body tensed up for just a minute, then his muscles visibly contracted under his dark suit. The thought of them with someone else hadn't bothered him, they were two adults, who could see whoever they wanted to see, do whatever they wanted to do..until they mentioned it. Even if he didn't like to admit it, he was still holding onto that selfish wish of his.

"—but I am not. I am choosing to be here, and I don't mind helping on new years eve." They explained. "Besides, we can get the work done faster when we split, so maybe we will get to enjoy the festivities if we finish these files by eleven."

Nanami couldn't help but nod. He took his glasses out of his pocket and put them on, then began to type back into his abandoned excel sheet. Though, it was taking him a great deal of effort to type in the right numbers, when they sat infront of him. His eyes couldn't resist glancing at them every few minutes, to admire them. How their eyebrows furrowed, and their mouth turned into a pout whenever they made a mistake. He found himself wishing that they were out, discussing life and what-not on a dinner table, in one of the cozy restaurants they discovered together, like they used to. Not sitting here in these uncomfortable seats, cubicles apart, with the only sound keeping them company is that of the city.

"Are you going to keep staring at me, Kento, or are you going to get your files done?"

He jolted, their eyes bored into his. They held a captivating gaze, for about a minute, or two, yet for him it felt as though hours had passed. "I apologise. It's been a long day." He lied. He was not as tired as he thought he would be, and seeing them tonight has ignited some sort of energy in him. Unknown to him, it was queit obvious when he lied to them. They smiled, and got up from their seat.

"I assume you've been running on nothing but coffee since this morning?" His eyes didn't leave them, as he watched them make their way to the little kitchen counter they had by the break room area. "You assume correctly, yes.." He took their 'absence' to his advantage, and focused on his work, finishing up spreadsheets as soon as they walked away. "That's pretty unhealthy."

"I am well aware, but what could I do?"

The microwave beeped a few times, and there was a sound of boilingvwater. A few minutes later, they dropped a plate with a slice of banana bread on the stacked files, and they placed a mug of jasmine tea in his hands. "Oh." His nostrils delighted by the smell of the bread, and the aroma of the steaming cup of tea, a smile had slowly made it's way on his lips. "Eat up, its gonna be a long night."

The blonde man stared up at the plate and then the mug infront of him. Though it was a simple, yet thoughtful act, it warmed his heart. He examined their relaxed posture when they leaned against the desk beside him, and his expression suddenly softened. "Thank you."

"Awh, Kento, are you going soft on me?"

He took off his fogging glasses, and set them aside, as he brought the beverage to his lips. "Yes."

Their eyebrows raised in surprise. And then they rolled their eyes, at the irony of the situation. "It's basic human decency, Nanamin. It really shouldn't be so surprising to you." Their statement felt heavy. A feeling of guilt ate him up. The office fell queit, the heavy air between them filled with unspoken words, and both of them shared passing glances, in hopes the other would speak. They broke the silence first, chuckling dryly. "I need more sugar. I swear the packets they get us don't sweeten at all." They hopped off his desk, their shoes clicking away. This sight felt familiar to him. Them turning their back to him, leaving him wondering if they would ever come back. Deja vu overtook his senses, but it was not enough to leave him frozen in place. Bewilderment -and embaressment- now written all over their face. "Kento? This hurts a bit.." Their voice was no louder than a whisper.

Nanami's grip around their wrist loosened just slightly, when he realised they were mere inches apart, and that his work was long abandoned.

"I..I apologise. But I have to tell you..It wasn't about that.."

"What are you talking about?"

"What you did for me just now. It made me realise something I should have a long time ago."

Their confusion turned into shock, and then realisation. A frown appeared on their face as they looked away from him. "Nanami.."

"It made me realise how much I missed you. How I shouldn't have let you leave that night."

They clicked their tounge and shook their head. "Nanami, this is exactly why it didn't work last time. You were always too late, only realising what you want after time had passed." He nodded in agreement, not daring to cut the off until they were done. "And you always prioritized things that didn't concern you over yourself, over me.." He could feel their hands clam up, the expression of nervousness evident on their features. "Yes, I'm well aware. And I'm giving it a shot again now, because I know I have changed."

They chuckled in disbelief, and looked up into his yearning eyed. "How much could someone really change, Nanami?"

He paused. He had come so far, he was not going to ruin this for the world. Not again. Mulling over the words, time after time in his mind, he finally replied. "You would never believe me if I just told you. You know better." He let their wrists go, and instead intertwined their fingers together. "Words can never prove it. But I'm willing to show you." Their mouth opened, but they couldn't bring themselves to disagree with him. Even though they wouldn't like to admit it, they had infact missed him. "I'm willing to do everything in my power to show you I have been working on myself for you."A pause in between words, and then he took a deep breath. His grip on their hands tightened just slightly. "So please, will you accompany to Shibuya? The countdown and firework event that takes place every new years is always sublime. And I have a friend who owns me one, so we would be watching the show from the highest building near the event. And I couldn't think of anyone..more divine to join me." A tiresome, yet determined smile set across his face. They spent a minute or two in complete silence, as they repeated the scenario in their head. Nanami normally would not let it show that he was nervous, but his hands were sweating and his jaw clenched. After a minute or two of complete and utter silence, they sighed deeply, nodding. "I'd..I'd love to, Nanami."

"Do I sense a but?"

A giggle erupted from them, but to his realif, they shook their head. "No. I am serious. I'd love to attend the Shibuya firework show with you." In an attempt to keep his cool -although his excitement was through the roof-, he raised their hands to his lips and planted a kiss on each of their knuckles. "Thank you.."

Another one of their wonderful giggles filled the air around them, their cheeks turned dark. "We should probably finish those files, if we want to get there on time."

Nanami looked back, at the abandoned cubicles and open computers. For a moment, he hesitated, but he quickly made up his mind and looked at them. "Forget about the files. We can always finish them later. Besides, the bullet train is bound to be almost empty by now, so we will be alone..." They raised their eyebrows, but a knowing smile spread across their face. He smiled back. "It's a date, then." His smile widened, it has been such a long time since he felt this way. Pleasant, ecstatic. "Just let me grab my coat, and I'll be ready to go."

Nanami nodded, letting them go after giving them a squeeze. As if silently promising, to both of them, the he won't ever let them regret their decision.

#nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen #anime #jjk fluff #gojo satoru #fluff

14 notes · View notes

hisunshiine · 4 years ago

Text

Escape ✈︎ Chapter 4

✈︎ chapter 4: you have been cordially invited... |✈︎ Escape Series—18+, Mature

✈︎ genre: fluff, future smut

✈︎ word count: 2,736 words

✈︎ pairing: jungkook x [redacted] (at the very end)

✈︎ warnings: alcohol consumption

✈︎ summary: A look into what it's like arriving to Bangtania...

Everyday, since the very beginning when it was announced, you have sat at your computer or been on your phone in order to participate in the giveaway for a chance to go to Bangtania Island. Every week, one lucky person has a chance to win an exclusive invitation from the girls who organized it, all expenses paid for them to relocate out there.

Friday couldn’t have come soon enough; your job was draining. A typical 9-5, doing office work was monotonous and you slogged through the week waiting for your weekends to come. Despite the wish to find something else, nobody was hiring in your city. Not for anything you wanted to do, anyways. Deep in your gut you felt the need for something more, instead of the repetitious clacking of your fingers against the keyboard, answering the phones, and feeling like a machine.

Fortunately, it’s the weekend, so you decide to stop and grab a bottle of wine and make your way home. You’re ready to unwind with some youtube videos and spend time browsing your social media for anything interesting. You pour a glass of wine and relax on the sofa, open your laptop and log in to twitter. You have a few notifications, including an update from the giveaway page, they had posted there was another winner chosen and that the winner would receive an email shortly.

“That was 30 minutes ago!?” You squeal to yourself, an unexplainable feeling creeping over you.

Just then your phone chimes, and you unlock the screen to check your notifications. You have multiple email notifications, so you check your email app as you sip your wine. Scrolling through them, it’s mainly junk mail, you see one that catches your eye.

Sender Name: Bangtania Island Mayor

Subject: You have been cordially invited…

Y/N,

Congratulations! You have been selected as the next lucky winner to be invited to Bangtania Island. In order to accept this invitation, please click on the link and fill out the application. Documents you may need to gather prior to completing the forms in the link are:

Driver’s License

Social Security Card

Passport

Please make sure to include the earliest date for you to travel, and please have your physical completed prior to boarding the plane. All documents needed are attached to the email. Please make sure to electronically sign them and reply to this email with the completed documents. If you have any questions in regards to the forms, please do not hesitate to reach out. Upon completion of all required documents per your reply email, you will receive your e-ticket for travel.

The following are the guidelines and stipulations for traveling to Bangtania Island:

You will receive a one-way ticket, free of cost. You will be picked up from the airport and transported to the boat, which will bring you to the island. You will be given a limited amount of time to decide if you would like to stay as a permanent resident of Bangtania, approximately 2 weeks. Prior to you being granted full access to the island, you will meet with the Deputy Mayor who will greet you at the dock, completing a brief in-person interview. If you decide to leave or prove unfit for the island at that time, a complimentary ticket home will be provided to you up until the 2-week window.

Thank you,

Vanessa

Deputy Mayor of the Mayor’s Office, Bangtania Island

You couldn’t stop yourself from spilling some wine as you low-key panicked. You knew there was a very good possibility of being chosen; some of your mutuals on twitter had already left to go there, and while you had seen them briefly on the TL, it was never for long and they didn’t say anything other than that they were enjoying themselves immensely and to share the sweepstakes link.

You set down what was left of your wine that hadn’t spilt into your lap, and ran around your room, pulling clothes off of their hangers and out of your dresser drawers before you remembered you hadn’t even clicked the link to complete the forms.

Pausing in the middle of your bedroom, arms filled with random clothes, you took 7 deep breaths to try and calm down before dropping your handful of clothes into your pen and waiting suitcase. Sitting back down, you calmly clicked the link and once transported to the secure website, you filled in the information needed so that your flight could be purchased for you as well as any other accommodations you may need could be handled by the ones in charge.

You printed out the forms needed for the physical, jotted down some notes to go to the doctor on Monday to complete the form, and decided that the earliest you would be able to fly out was Wednesday. That gives you enough time to go to your job, request use of your vacation hours for the next 2 weeks, and turn in your two week notice. You didn’t ever want to come back to that shit hole.

You celebrated the news by turning up your bluetooth speaker and blasting your favorite upbeat BTS songs while you packed up everything you would need. Hasta La Vista!

Catching your flight was easier than you thought it would be, as you had an upgraded flight in first class. You were given star treatment, access to a separate waiting area with complimentary food and drinks, less people to deal with, comfortable seats, the works. You couldn’t believe that ARMY was able to provide all of this for you, but who were you to complain?

The boat ride was also nice, more like taking a large yacht across the water to the island, you stood at the bough of the boat for most of the trip, enjoying the view as you became farther and farther away from everything that was shitty about your life and closer to everything you wanted. An escape into a world that was full of other people who were like you, liked the same music, had the same mindset, and you got to do it all on a paradise island? Hell fucking yeah.

After docking, you rolled your luggage behind you as you disembarked from the ramp, and saw a girl waiting for you. She was short but cute, a friendly smile and aura of being in charge. Her cheeks were slightly sunburnt, but you were envious of the way she looked refreshed, skin glowing. You couldn’t wait for that to be you; sunkissed and relaxed from the ocean breeze and too many margaritas.

“Y/n?” She asked, and you nodded.

“Welcome! I’m Vanessa, I hope that your trip went well?”

“Oh yea, it was awesome, thank you!”

“No problem, congratulations on winning! So before we go off to the fun stuff, we have a brief interview and a few more things to go over, and then I’ll give you a tour of the island and show you to your place. If you’ll follow me?”

Vanessa led the way to a golf cart and you climbed on, your luggage secured in the back seat of the cart. She turned the key, and you were speeding off towards a large house. It was painted white with accents of brick, and green ivy climbing lattices. The windows were large and beautiful, and you felt like you had seen them somewhere before. Like they were in a magazine or some type of professional photos or something. You shrugged off the feeling of deja vu, and followed Vanessa into the house.

The windows were open and provided a good amount of sunlight into the entryway, and you tried to take in as much as you could see as Vanessa walked past a staircase and led you towards the back of the house and into a side room. It was an office, with bright white walls and a large sturdy desk. A bookshelf was the entire wall behind the desk, where she now sat at.

She gestured to the plush chair in front of her desk and you sat down, suddenly nervous. For such a large house, it was pretty quiet, and you wondered where all the other people were. Was this actually all an elaborate trick to sell you into sex trafficking and you were brought here to die?!

You calmed your thoughts once you heard laughter from somewhere above you, and music playing lightly from another area of the house.

“So, once again, welcome! I am the deputy mayor here, and basically in charge of getting you all settled. We are a formal nation, Bangtania, with a president, a whole government system, and we’re working on expanding the businesses here. Before I can reveal anything more to you, I do need to have you sign the Non-Disclosure Agreement here in person. I know that I sent it to you via email for you to read and electronically sign, but I like to cover all of my bases.”

Like clockwork, another woman walked into the open office door, carrying a glass of wine and some papers. She took a sip and handed the papers to Vanessa, who thanked her as she headed back out of the room. The woman blew a kiss and disappeared around the corner.

“That’s my best friend, Talia, and definitely the reason that all of this was even put into motion,” Vanessa said as she shuffled the papers before straightening them gently by tapping the edges on the desk. She stapled the corner, binding the papers together, and passed it over to you.

“I know you read over most of this, but I want to reiterate a few points anyways. From the moment you leave this office, you are not to share with anyone about the other people on this island. When you first applied to the giveaway sweepstakes, you gave us your social media handles. While we won’t take away social media from you, your posts will be monitored for identifying certain people who wish to remain anonymous while here. Please always ask anyone before posting and triple check photos as well.”

She points to a section and you initial, stating you understand.

“You have a two week period here to see how you like it. You don’t have to stay if you do not want to. After that time, you will be issued a passport for Bangtania, a resident ID, and be included in our census. You will have dual citizenship for here and for your home country as well.”

“If you choose to leave within the 2 week window, it’s no charge. If you choose to leave after, you will have to fund your flight home yourself. We will pay for your boat ride back to the mainland, and from there you can negotiate work or if you have money saved just in case, you can fly out. Also, if you choose to stay, you can always fly out to visit friends and family, just remember the NDA is always in affect.”

You initialed again.

Vanessa led you through a few more sections of the contract, and you learned that a few of the girls on the island were nurses and so if you were sick or needed minor medical attention, they would help you. Everything else was pretty much provided to you, and all they asked was that they could use your skills in return.

You weren’t surprised they knew you had skills with computers and answering phones, which made you a perfect candidate to work in the main house under Vanessa doing secretarial work for her best friend, Talia. It wouldn’t be a lot of work, you would have plenty of time to enjoy the beach and rest, and the work would be related to the giveaway, running the island, and other fun BTS related things, so you were excited.

Signing your last signature on the bottom of the last page, Vanessa took the document, notarized it, and put it away in a locked filing cabinet next to her desk.

“Now, if you’re ready, I’d love to give you a tour of the island and show you where you’ll be staying.”

After seeing the main areas that people hung out at, you went towards what looked like a restaurant, which was good because you were hungry. Vanessa parked the golf cart next to a few others, and she held the door open for you.

You almost fainted. Seated at the table right when you walked in was none other than the 7 boys that were the reason you lived. BTS. Namjoon, Jimin, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jungkook were sat at the table, and as you looked around, you saw that in between them sat other girls, including mutuals you knew were living here. Hobi appeared from swinging doors that led to what you assumed was the kitchen, delivering plates of food from a platter as a few girls followed him as well with drinks.

“C’mon Y/N, don’t be shy. Isn’t this what you wanted?” Vanessa laughed, taking in your shocked expression.

After eating, and sharing some conversation with Jin and Yoongi, you were ready for a nap. Jin was an exceptional cook, and you were full to the brim. Vanessa waved bye to everyone, a lingering hand on a certain male’s shoulder as she walked away, leading you back outside. As you sat back on the leather seat of the cart, she checked in with you.

“I’m definitely still in shock, but now I understand the NDA a lot more.” You chuckled as she drove you towards another house. It was just as big as the main house, as you heard several people call it, but the style was more relaxed and upon entering it, you realized it was because it was lived in. It was two stories, with a large open concept downstairs with a living room and kitchen, and rooms upstairs. You dragged your suitcase up the flight and Vanessa unlocked a room for you with a key before handing it to you.

“This is our newcomer guest room. We will have a room ready for you after your 2 weeks are up, if you decide to stay. For now, most people have said staying with me and Talia has been helpful if they had questions or needed anything, but any of the girls will help you, everyone is super nice.”

You looked around the room; it was spacious with a nice big bay window that allowed a decent amount of sunlight in.

“I’ll leave you to get settled in. Feel free to explore some more, and tomorrow we will have our weekly game night so you can meet everyone in a more relaxed setting and have fun. It’s our way of welcoming you to Bangtania.”

Vanessa let herself out of the room, closing the door softly. You wanted to explore, but at the moment the bed was calling to you. You lay down in the spot where the sun was pooling, curling yourself into the warmth and passed out. Jet Lag was a bitch.

When you finally rejoined the waking world, it was definitely not waking hours. The sun had set, and you shiver, the ocean breeze now too cool in your bedroom. You get up, throwing a MOTS tour hoodie on, and climb back in the bed, attempting to go back to sleep. Tossing and turning for about 15 minutes, sleep evades you. You must have caught up on all of your missing sleep with that ‘nap’ you took. Like you said, Jet lag is a bitch. Not wanting to continue to lay there restless, you slip out of the room and down the stairs.

You walk along the road, past other houses, finding yourself walking into sand. Sitting on the beach, enjoying the sound of the waves, you finally begin to feel tired. Rather than fall asleep on the beach, you make your way back to the house.

You head up the stairs and start down the hall, being as quiet as possible since it’s late and everyone is asleep. At least you assume they are all asleep, until you hear a very familiar voice coming from Vanessa’s room.

“Come here Princess, why are you acting this way?” You step closer to the door that is slightly ajar. You can’t believe what you are seeing, but you can’t stop watching either.

#hisunshiine #hisunshiine writings #hisunshiinewritings #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts au #bts story #bangtansorciere #bangtanuniversity #bangtanwhq #bangtaninn #mrsparkjimin18 #Escape Series #Escape #Escape BTS #BTS Escape Series #ot7 x reader

12 notes · View notes

christiancody · 4 years ago

Text

2013 Carrie AU where Tommy makes it out alive and Desjardin listens to Sue, though it’s too late.

Carrie's eyes widen at his words. He said hers and Tommy's name. They won. They won prom night!

The only noises she heard was the audience cheering for the both of them. "Way to go, Carrie!" She heard someone yell in the crowd.

Her smile was so vivacious. She couldn't believe this. It felt so surreal.

They stood up and started walking over to the thrones. Carrie looked around. She saw Rita applauding, Mr. Morton, hell, even Mr. Ulmann!

Sue grabbed Heather's arm, "Heather! Where's Chris?"

"What're you talking about? She's not here."

Sue sucked her teeth and wandered around the crowd. She continued to look for Chris because she knows for a fact that she is there and ready to ruin Carrie's night.

The school anthem plays as Tommy and Carrie climb up the stairs to the thrones.

When they got up on the stage, a woman gave Carrie flowers and she held them with contentment. She was smiling uncontrollably. This was her night, she thought. She won.

Chris cackled, "She looks so fucking ridiculous."

Sue looked for the thing that's possibly going to ruin Carrie's night. And she found it. She saw a string that led to a bucket on top of Carrie. On top of it, she found...

"Chris!" Sue whispered.

"Sue?" Rita said in the crowd, her applauds stopping. She starts making her way to Sue.

"Hey! What're you doing?!" Sue yells to Chris. Carrie looks at her confused but still smiling.

Rita grabs her, pulling her back, "What're you doing here? Please don't ruin this for Carrie."

"But it's not me! It's Chris!"

"Come on, out!"

Chris smirked, watching them. She pulled the string, but it was jammed. She gasps. Billy then tries to pull it, but it doesn't work either. "Shit," he mutters.

Sue shoves Rita's arms off of her, "Ms. Desjardin! Hear me out! Chris is up there and she's gonna ruin Carrie's night! It's not me!"

Chris pulls the string one more time, grunting, and this time, the string was loose.

The bucket tipped over.

Carrie made her final smile before she felt a pressuring substance push against her head. The pig's blood fell all over her and some on Tommy.

The crowd gasped as well as Carrie.

The blood was so cold. It felt so sharp against her skin. She closed her eyes tightly. It had such a sickening odor. The crowd was dead silent. She dropped her white flowers—which were now covered in red—as the blood ended pouring on her.

Sue gasps and Rita looks toward the stage. She gasps as well.

Carrie opens her eyes, gasping and looks up at the bucket and then at her hands, covered in blood. Some continued to drip from the edge of the bucket.

Deja vu.

She looks to Tommy, confused. He said he wasn't going to deceive her. What's this mess?

"You tricked me," Carrie whispered to Tommy, trying really hard to hold back tears.

Tommy quickly shook his head, "What? Carrie, no, I didn't do this." He then turns to the audience, "What the hell is this?!"

"That's blood!" One of the women yelled.

Tina clicks on a video for it to be shown on the big screens. It was Carrie in the showers during her first period.

Please, help me! It hurts! can immediately be heard from the video. It shows Carrie weak on the floor, begging for help as the girls chant for her to plug the tampon up. Carrie's sobs boom through the speakers all around the gym.

Heather points to the big screen on the right. "Oh my God!"

One by one, members of the prom started to snicker.

Later, the snickers became malicious laughter.

Sue couldn't believe what she was seeing. Would they actually do this to Carrie? Humiliate her like this in front of so many people? She put her hand over her mouth, completely shocked.

Carrie's eyes widened, recognizing the voice. It was her. She walked to the stairs of the stage and looked to the side, where the big screen was. She saw herself. Her mouth opened slightly with shock.

She looked back and walked up to Tommy, "Tommy... leave before I hurt you."

"But... Carrie don't you see—"

"Tommy, leave!"

He was hesitant at first but then he ran down the stairs. He stopped. He had to get Carrie out of there. He couldn't leave her, not after what had just occurred.

He turned and held his hand out, "Carrie, come with me!"

Carrie furiously held her hand out to him, pushing him down with her powers. He let out a loud "Oh!" at the unexpected force being shoved into him.

The crowd around him shockingly gasped, stepping backward to make a circle of space of where Tommy had just fell. Two people caught him by the arms.

"I said get out," Carrie ordered.

Tommy's eyes widened, made a quick glimpse at Carrie before getting off the men's grip and sprinting for the exit, moving through people quickly.

The crowd's eyes were on Carrie now. They were murmuring. Apprehensive murmurs.

Carrie gazed angrily at the audience.

"Tommy!" Sue whispered and pulled him in for a big hug. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Chris did all this."

"What is Carrie? Did you just see what just happened to me there?" Tommy spoke quickly, breaking the hug.

Sue glanced at Carrie. She had a strong feeling she needed to get Rita and Tommy out of there, instantly. She spotted Chris and Billy run downstairs from the backstage. Chris looked at the stage.

The crowd was still dead silent.

Sue pursed her lips and grasped Tommy and Rita's arms, dragging them outside. She closed the doors to the gym, but they were still in the hallways. They watched.

Inside the gym, Carrie stepped back. They all stared at her. She was the only one on the stage.

SLAM

All the open doors around the gym have banged shut by themselves, leaving some people in the crowd to scream with fear.

The three outside in the hallway winced at the extremely heavy bang.

Carrie shifted her hands, causing the lights to flicker. She smirked. She lifted her hands slowly, some of the blood spreading off of her and into the atmosphere.

"Something's happening," Rita said, looking into the windows of the gym doors. "What's she doing?"

"Whatever it is," Sue starts, "it's not good."

"Are you seeing this?" Heather said to her boyfriend in the crowd. She started to attempt to drag him out. "Wait!" He said. But she kept dragging him. She's trying to get out of there.

Carrie was breathing heavily. She was so focused on the crowd.

Her pupils dilated. They grew.

She screamed.

A powerful wave of strength and anger drove everyone backward, along with the tables, and the decorations.

"Holy shit!" Tommy exclaimed as Sue and Rita's eyes widened. The lights in the hallways of where they were flickered rapidly. Of the three, Rita was the only one that screamed.

Heather ran for the door. Sue, Tommy, and Rita saw her.

"Heather!" Sue called out, attempting to open the door but she forgot it was locked.

Carrie pushed everyone back once more, sending Heather straight to the window. She screamed and bashed her head in, making Sue, Rita and Tommy all jump back in shock.

They saw people reach for the doors, begging for them to let them out. They were screaming in panic. They have covered the windows.

"We have to go!" Sue said. "Come on!"

All three of them exit the hallways and out to the parking lot.

Sue looks behind her. She noticed Billy's car starting and running out of the parking lot. She was going to call out for them but it was too late. They've already left.

"Should I call the police?" Rita asks.

"Are you serious?!" Tommy says, "All due respect, Desjardin, but Carrie's out there killing people God-knows-how and you wanna call the police?"

#carrie 2013 #carrie white #carrieverse #carrie au #alternate universe #horror #chloë moretz #chloë grace moretz #gabriella wilde #judy greer #ansel elgort #tommy ross #sue snell #rita desjardin

20 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 5 years ago

Text

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 1 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: hey everyone! no ur not getting deja vu, i’m reposting what i have of this fic again just with a few necessary adjustments if u kwam. rip all my notes and lovely comments as i’m going to have chapter 1 deleted after this for obvious reasons, so feel free to still leave me some luv bc i’m ngl, re-jigging two fics is taking it out of me asdfghjklkjhgfds. without further ado may i now present to you strictly au 2: electric boogaloo xo

(this one goes out to the anon who wanted radio 1 DJ Heidi Nina Closet xo)

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

8th August 2020

Political correctness gone mad. Or at least, that’s what all the straight, white, 50 year old men have been tweeting. But the TV bosses thought that a same-sex version of the nation’s favourite dancing show would pull the viewers in, at least get some hype going like the good old days. The show’s been going since 2004, Vanessa thinks, as she rolls her neck and looks at the various alleged celebrities opposite them. This is what caused the death of the X Factor, all these sensationalist spin-offs, and now they’re doing the same with this one. She supposes the BBC were intimidated by Dancing on Ice, who had a single solitary same-sex couple on their show and were called out live by H from Steps. How humiliating. She’s only been part of the show for two years; this is her third, but her first one with a partner. She scans her eyes back down the line again, her gaze interrupted as Akeria whispers to her.

“Who you gunning for? I like that goddess, third from the right. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin. Shit, our babies would be beautiful.”

Vanessa pauses, looks at who Akeria’s talking about and snorts a laugh. “Keeks, that’s Asia O'Hara. The chef? She’s been on Saturday Kitchen a couple times.”

“You actually watch that shit?” Akeria side-eyed her.

“Hey, drop the judgemental tone, bitch! It’s easy, chilled-out Saturday morning viewing. Anyway, chefs? Nah. Two left feet and they stomp their way across the dancefloor.”

“It ain’t the dancefloor I’m worried about. I’m more interested in what’s going on in the bedroom,” Akeria wiggles her eyebrows, making Vanessa snort a laugh. Seeing her friend’s expression of disbelief, Akeria rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on, Vanj. You telling me you never thought about it? A lil’ steamy affair? Get the Daily Mail’s tongues wagging?”

“Shut the hell up. You’re awful,” Vanessa laughs long-sufferingly in reply, casts her eyes back down the line of celebrities. Scarlet Envy is at the top- Vanessa knows her, she’s in one of the big soap operas. She’s talking quite earnestly to Yvie Oddly. Vanessa is aware of Yvie only because her niece is obsessed with her Youtube channel. What is it she does again? Gaming walkthroughs? She can’t remember. There’s a tall newsreader with dark hair that Vanessa doesn’t remember the name of but she knows that Jan’s eyeing her up from across the room, so even if she ends up being half-decent and Vanessa gets on well with her Jan will still cut her to make sure she ends up with her as a partner. There’s a black girl with a mane of dark hair and a gap tooth chatting to a blonde woman with glittery makeup, some pretty girls that must be influencers or makeup artists or something (in fact, Vanessa definitely recognises one from Love Island), and Monet X Change. Vanessa definitely knows her, and she’s quite surprised the show managed to net Monet given that most of the singers that appear on the show are usually washed up talent show rejects. Vanessa’s seen some clips of her touring, she knows she’s a good dancer. Maybe she’d be good.

Vanessa takes one final sweep down the line as she sees the producers readying themselves to begin. One, two, three, four…hang on. There’s only eleven celebrities, and unless she’s suddenly lost the ability to count Vanessa knows there’s twelve dancers. Maybe they were going to be more cutthroat than she thought, maybe this would be where they decide which dancers they’re giving partners to and which one they’re cutting. Vanessa nervously shifts in her character shoes as the producers begin their welcome.

As they’re talking, the huge rehearsal room doors burst open and a tall blonde comes rushing through them, dressed in white trainers, a baggy white gym top, and black Nike leggings. She looks on her way to be sweating half of her perfectly made up face off as she runs over to join the other celebrities, sweeping her long, curling-ironed hair up into a bun and apologising frantically as she does so.

“Kiki,” Vanessa whispers to her friend. “Who’s that?”

She feels Akeria shrug beside her. Luckily Monique is standing by her right side and has heard her question.

“Oh, bitch! That’s Brooke Lynn. She presents stuff.”

“What the fuck’s stuff?” Vanessa laughs quietly, not wanting to incur the wrath of the producers by talking over them.

“She did, uh…The Voice. An’ she did some kind of consumer show in the evenings. She does The One Show now. Bunch of boring ass shit, basically,” Monique waves a hand dismissively towards the end, gets distracted by a wink and a small wave across the room from Monet X Change.

“Damn. So they give her all the boring shows to present because they know people will tune in ‘cause she’s hot?” Vanessa muses. It’s just a fact, after all. She’s not been able to tear her eyes away from her since she rushed into the room. Vanessa hopes she’s a good dancer.

“Oop. Here we go already. The Strictly curse claims its first victim,” Akeria overhears her, sticks her tongue out at her as Vanessa bats her on the arm. The sudden movement causes one of the producers to whip round and glare at Vanessa and she immediately drops her arm and fixes him with an easy smile.

When she looks back at Brooke Lynn, she’s hiding her mouth with her hand and her eyes are twinkling at her in a laugh. Vanessa presses her lips together to keep from smiling back.

They all warm up together, even though Vanessa’s already warmed up, but it’s a good chance to see who has potential and who looks more like an octopus out of water with half its limbs cut off. She scans the mirrored wall as she rolls her shoulders in time with the EDM that’s blasting from the speakers. The blonde influencer-looking girl is fucked from the start, Vanessa notes. She’s rolling her shoulders both the wrong way and off-beat. One of the celebrities, the pouty one from Love Island, is already complaining that she’s pulled a muscle. Vanessa makes the executive decision that if she gets partnered up with her then she’s quitting the show and also possibly going on a killing spree in Elstree Studios.

Brooke Lynn hasn’t met her eyes since they caught each others’ earlier. She’s not being weird, it’s just an observation. Vanessa’s, however, have drifted her way a couple of times. Brooke seems to be sailing through the warmup that Jaida’s leading easily, and Vanessa notes how easily she’s managing the split stretches, how she can bend her body almost in half until her head touches the floor. She’s clearly had some sort of dance training before, and Vanessa thinks her good looks would just be a bonus of being partnered with her. She sweeps her gaze across the room again as she stretches out her other leg, her gaze landing on Yvie. She’s bendy, her forehead pressed to the floor as she stretches out and giggles at Scarlet beside her whose body appears to be made almost entirely of cardboard. Vanessa stifles a giggle herself as Jaida starts leading them in squats, hears Monique muttering something to her as she drops to the floor. Vanessa fixes her with a confused face.

“Think you’ve got an admirer,” Monique repeats a little louder, raising her eyebrows and jerking her head behind them to where the celebrities warmed up. Vanessa brings herself up out of the squat, whips her head round to see Brooke looking right at her.

Or rather, her ass.

As Brooke suddenly looks at about six different places in the room in the space of a second and her face turns roughly the same colour as a fire engine, Vanessa turns her head back round, trying to ignore the heat she can feel attacking her own face.

It’s kind of ironic that every year at least one couple is claimed by the Strictly curse and yet the producers still call the process of finding a potential partner “Speed Dating”. The curse is a phenomenon that Vanessa has felt the brunt of and knows all too well- a partner and a contestant, almost every year, end up either falling for each other or falling into bed with each other. It’s natural, she supposes- you can’t spend practically every waking moment of every day pressed up against someone else and not trip and fall onto their dick. However, this is a room full of girls, at least half of whom Vanessa knows are gay as all hell, and maybe this year there’ll be a bit more nuance and obliviousness and just general all-round idiocy.

Looking at the celebrities, she sees Scarlet joke-grinding against Yvie, both of them almost falling over laughing. Maybe everyone will be a little less oblivious than Vanessa has given them credit for.

One of the producers launches into a spiel about how the pairing up process will work. Everyone knows they won’t get properly paired up until the launch show, but this will be more of a chemistry test than a dancing test, he explains, to see who gets on with each other best. Then at the end, all of them will get to write down their top three potential partners.

“After all,” he laughs, “You’re going to be spending a long time together!”

There’s a polite bubble of laughter that pops in the room, and Vanessa feels her stomach explode suddenly with butterflies. What if she gets paired up with someone she doesn’t get on well with at all, never mind someone who can dance? Her mind drifts. Phi Phi’s standing beside her, her face set in a small frown. Vanessa whispers to her.

“Who you got your eyes on?”

Phi Phi doesn’t shift her gaze, and Vanessa follows it. Her gaze lands on the woman with the glittery makeup who’s laughing like a seal at something that gap tooth girl has said and isn’t paying any attention to what the producers are saying. “Anyone with a pulse who’s taking the competition seriously. I know who I don’t want, put it that way.”

Vanessa indulges her in a laugh. Phi Phi has reached the semi-final four times and has never advanced further, and her frustration is starting to show. Vanessa supposes she’s at an advantage here- she’s fresh on the show, she doesn’t have any chips on her shoulder. As she looks around the room, she can see each of the dancers’ past experiences reflected on their faces like battle scars: four-time World Championship finalist Courtney is smiling easily, happy in the knowledge that she won last year and will probably get a dud partner this year, Shea, former West End Choreographer who could literally get given Theresa May and still manage to advance to the finals has a calm exterior, and frowning determinedly is 2018 Latin European champion Vixen, who bowed out early last year with her partner and has expressed very openly and very loudly to everyone who’ll hear her that she’s going for the glitterball this year. In a similar boat is World Cup Freestyle Latin Champion Aja, who was up against Courtney in the finals last year and lost by only a tiny margin of the vote. The girl doesn’t seem bitter, but she’s already got her eyes trained on Monet and has clearly backed her winner already. Crystal is lost in a daydream, classic. To the untrained eye the girl may look as if she couldn’t even do the macarena in time, but the girls know better. Crystal is hard-working, determined, creative, clever, and one of the highest-ranking ballroom and Latin dancers in the country. Vanessa knows that whoever she gets as a partner she’ll be able to mold into something amazing.

Vanessa’s gaze then lands on Plastique. The girl is a fierce dancer and it’s her fifth year on the show already. If she’s nervous, she doesn’t show it. Then again, she trained under Alyssa Edwards so she’s very possibly not felt butterflies in her stomach since the year 2012. Vanessa’s eyes widen a bit as she notices Plastique eyeing up Brooke. She’s going to need to turn up the charm all the way to 100, as Plastique’s reputation precedes her and she’ll be top choice for a lot of the girls opposite.

One by one, the dancers introduce themselves. Vanessa keeps her introduction short and sweet. She doesn’t like to brag about her titles unlike some of the other girls, and she knows that her achievements are outshone by many so she focuses on the fact it’s her first year with a partner instead.

“I ain’t got a track record like Courtney, but I also ain’t got one like Monique either,” Vanessa jokes, her friend nudging her and shouting in protest as the other girls laugh. Monique takes it in good humour though- she’s been an early out for a few years in a row having kept landing Olympic sportsmen with limbs like toy soldiers, so it’s a fair enough comment. Vanessa continues, trying not to let her eyes land on Brooke all that much. “So whoever gets paired with me don’t need to be worried ‘cuz they’re gonna always end up being special to me. My first partner on the show, and the first person I get to experience it with. And I’d be happy to get any of you, because you all look nice and smiley an’ friendly!”

She adds in that last bit to come across as gracious, and it seems to work as the celebrities opposite all smile at her gently and she hears a couple of “aaw!”s thrown her way. She can practically feel Phi Phi, Aja and Vixen all roll their eyes at her, but she doesn’t care. It’s a point in her favour with the girls opposite at least.

After the professionals have all said their piece, the celebrities pipe up. To give them their dues, there are quite a few that Vanessa would be glad to be partnered up with. Peppermint, a TV journalist, seems like she’d be great to gossip with if nothing else, Gigi, the once so intimidating-looking model has got a goofy side that would keep Vanessa sane in rehearsals, and Instagram influencer Blair seems similarly sweet and is so eager to please that it almost hurts. Then Brooke steps forward, her expression the serene calm of a woman who’s used to speaking in front of an audience, and all Vanessa can think about is how much of a point that confident, in-control body language would be in their favour when they took to the floor in week one.

No, not when. If. She’s getting ahead of herself.

“Hey everyone! I’m Brooke Lynn Hytes, uh, I present stuff. I’m basically like Ant and Dec but without the loveable double-act element and the millions of national TV awards clogging up my trophy cabinets and gathering dust.”

Vanessa lets out a snort. The actual joke isn’t even that funny, but Brooke’s delivery was so deadpan and matter of fact that it made the whole thing ten times more hilarious. Akeria turns to face Vanessa, raises her eyebrows and hisses over to her.

“Girl. Any further up her ass and your new nickname is gonna be suppository for the rest of the season.”

“Uh, dance-experience-wise I actually have a fair bit. I did exams and dance shows in high school. I don’t know if I should’ve mentioned that, now you’re all gonna be fighting over me like a pack of zombies,” Brooke laughs. The other girls join in with the laughter and Vanessa shifts from foot to foot. Brooke doesn’t know how accurate she’s just been. Oblivious, she carries on. “So yeah! Good luck to us all. Please don’t tear me limb from limb.”

Another laugh that Vanessa joins in weakly with. Unsurprisingly, Brooke introducing herself to the room has done nothing for Vanessa’s nerves. She has a favourite now, but it’s akin to putting money on a greyhound race- it’s a complete gamble. She tells herself that she can’t pin her hopes on getting partnered with Brooke, even though that thought is a bit like locking a stable door after the pony’s bolted, or whatever the goddamn figure of speech is. As gap-in-teeth-girl who’s standing beside Brooke begins to introduce herself (Heidi’s a Radio 1 DJ, and that explains why her voice sounds so familiar) Vanessa jumps a little as she hears Monique whisper to her out of nowhere.

“Girl, Jesus. Dare you to be less obvious.”

Vanessa narrows her eyes at her as she turns her head. “What?”

“Brooke Lynn,” Monique cocks her head towards the girl in question. Vanessa keeps her gaze steely. “Put your tongue back in your mouth, sis.”

“Oh, like you’ve not got a favourite already,” Vanessa whispers back. She’s got the Monet card she can use if she wants to.

“You know you don’t have to take that partner thing literally, right? You don’t actually have to fuck the person you get matched with,” Monique shoots back, pressing her lips together to stop herself from laughing. Vanessa rolls her eyes.

“You’re being ridiculous. She’s got dance experience, the height difference is good, I could win with her. There’s nothing more to it than that. I’d be happy with any of these bitches.”

Monique raises her eyebrows. “You’re not tryin’ to be Miss World, Vanj, it’s okay to say you wouldn’t kick her outta bed.”

“Okay, so what about Monet? I’m sure the reason that you keep lookin’ all the way down that end of the room is definitely…shit, I don’t know…some sort of eye condition?” Vanessa uses her trump card, smiles and sticks her tongue out at Monique who gives her a little shove and clamps her mouth shut in a pout, knowing she’s been outmanoeuvred. Vanessa tunes back in to the introductions. The Love Island girl introduces herself as Farrah, and she’s pouting and asking the pros not to work her too hard. Vanessa thinks back to what Phi Phi had said. She’ll give the girl some credit. Maybe Vanessa should focus more on who she doesn’t want after all.

The producers start leading girls from their side of the room to the middle so that they form two big vertical lines in front of each other. Vanessa starts in front of Blair, who smiles kindly at her and appears too shy to speak. There’s no time for Vanessa to really attempt to strike up a conversation as they’re all getting shuffled around based on their heights. She watches as Brooke gets moved from in front of Aja, past Shea, past Crystal, and finally given to Jan.

Fuck.

Vanessa shakes the disappointment off. She’s being ridiculous, she knows she’ll get a turn with mostly everyone and the fact that Brooke’s tall, statuesque frame contrasts with her pint-sized self means that she’s a dead cert to get a shot at dancing with her. There’s not many people smaller than her so she knows she’s not going to be leading. This is good, as she’s obviously not used to it. The girls paired up with the smaller celebrities are going to have to work twice as hard.

Blair gets shuffled around to be partnered with Aja, and eventually Vanessa gets Gigi deposited in front of her. She gives her a friendly wave and a pleasant smile, and eventually everyone is paired up- for now. Vanessa looks over at Akeria, notices she’s been given Asia to dance with first. Akeria meets her gaze and gives her a smile that Vanessa doesn’t think she’s going to be able to wipe off her face until mid-June of next year.

As the producers give the girls some time to teach the celebrities an incredibly basic salsa step to start them off with, Vanessa relaxes as she begins talking Gigi through the steps. She’s glad she’s finally getting to do what she loves instead of being consumed by nerves and what-ifs. She knows how to dance and she’s good at it- it’s just a fact- and she knows she’s able to teach things, having helped out with the kids at her dance school when she was younger. To her delight Gigi picks things up quickly, and the two of them are simply dancing the same four basic moves in a loop as they move on to chatting.

“You’re a good teacher! It’s taking some of these other bitches ages,” Gigi laughs, Vanessa giving a guilty giggle at the comment as she notices Jadia, very patiently and very deliberately, walking Scarlet through the steps again.

“See, you wouldn’t think I never had a partner before!” Vanessa beams back at her, twirling around and landing back in Gigi’s hold. To some of the girls it might be a little awkward trying to make small-talk with someone they’ve just met whilst holding one of their hands and having another pressed to their back, but to Vanessa it comes naturally. She notices that Gigi is scanning the room and looking at the other girls. Vanessa knows a searching pair of eyes when she sees one. “You got your eye on a girl?”

“Well, you’d be good,” Gigi says immediately, although how much of that is out of courtesy Vanessa doesn’t know. “Or, I mean. Jaida’s a fierce teacher, and she’s won it before, right?”

Vanessa nods. She knows that Gigi is still holding back the namedrop of the girl she really wants. “But I guess, you know, Crystal’s a talent. It kind of seems like everyone sleeps on her despite the fact she’s got all these trophies and ranks so highly and she does ballroom and Latin. She ever won before?”

“Not yet. She got paired with some stompy politician last year and was an early out, but she made the semis before that,” Vanessa indulges her, although she’s quite sure that judging by the slight blush on Gigi’s face that she’s well aware of where Crystal’s ranked in previous seasons. Gigi seems nice, and she’s complimented Vanessa so she decides to throw one her way too. “You’ve got potential, you could take her to the finals easily. She could do a lot with you.”

“That’s sweet. Thanks,” Gigi smiles, Vanessa giving another twirl just as the producers get everyone to stop and switch round again. Time passes by in steps and twirls rather than minutes, but the variety of people she gets paired with ensures that things don’t become boring. Vanessa gets Scarlet, who steps on her toes about three times and, in her own words, dances like an inflatable waving tube man stuck outside a car showroom, then actress Willam, the one with the laugh like a seal and sparkly makeup and scant regard for the moves she’s been taught, preferring to make Vanessa laugh the whole time. After that she is paired with Jackie, the newsreader she’d noticed earlier. She shows promise but Vanessa does notice Jan’s head bobbing about looking at them from the other side of the room the whole time they’re together like an invasive meerkat so Vanessa does her a solid and talks Jan up a storm. She can’t really focus too much on Jackie, to be fair, because Plastique’s been partnered with Brooke and the two of them are already laughing and hitting it off with each other and Vanessa feels her blood fizz with determination.

Finally, mercifully, Brooke gets led down by one of the producers to stand in front of her, and for a moment Vanessa is tongue-tied. Brooke’s dark green eyes and her gorgeous face are a little intimidating, not that she’s got a crush or anything, and Vanessa feels herself growing shy for a second. But then she remembers that they only have minutes together, and if she wants to be partnered with this girl she’s going to have to up the charm offensive. The producers have been stalking the room like lions with notebooks, recording every laugh and lingering glance.

“Hey!” Vanessa starts cheerfully, fixing Brooke with the winning smile she always used to flash at the judges when she was competing. “I’m Vanjie. Well, Vanessa. Either. Is fine.”

Brooke smiles back at her despite the fact that her introduction was so awkward Vanessa feels like digging a hole in the ground and leaping into it. “Nice to meet you, Vanjie-Well-Vanessa. I’m Brooke Lynn.“

Before Vanessa can feel any more embarrassed at Brooke’s teasing, she takes a little bow and stands ready, her hand held out for her to take. "May I have this dance?”

Vanessa lets out a laugh at the cheesiness of it all, takes Brooke’s hand and stands in hold with her. Their hands seem to fit perfectly together and even though their bodies are still quite far apart Brooke’s hand on her back makes Vanessa feel close to her in a way she’s not felt dancing with any man before.

Monique’s teasing face appears in her mind and Vanessa shakes those particular thoughts away.

“I bet you said that to all these girls,” Vanessa quirks an eyebrow at her, and Brooke tilts her head to the ceiling in thought.

“Uh…no, don’t think so. Just you so far,” she shrugs, and it definitely doesn’t make Vanessa feel special in any way at all.

They start to step and oh shit. This is exciting. This is the first girl that’s properly led her, the first one that the moves have seemed to come so easily to, and Vanessa can feel her heart going like a train as she imagines what she could actually choreograph with a girl like Brooke to work with. She’s a bit quiet as she’s lost in thought, so she cracks an impressed face at the girl opposite her.

“You’re good.”

“Yeah, so are you,” Brooke looks at her a little funny, her face inquisitive. “Hey, how come you didn’t mention any of your accolades? Y'know. World Latin Champion 2016, four-time finalist. That’s a bragging right.”

Vanessa almost loses her steps she’s so shocked. How the fuck does Brooke know about all that? She’s not mentioned it. Brooke can clearly see the shock on her face and a blush hits her cheeks. “That probably sounds weird. I looked you up when I knew I was coming on the show.”

Vanessa laughs, pulls a face at Brooke. “Nah, that sounds even more weird. You’re just digging yourself a hole now.”

Brooke gives an embarrassed giggle, looks up at the sky to avoid Vanessa’s gaze and oh fuck she’s still moving perfectly and she’s not got her eyes trained on her feet holy shit. “No, I mean I looked all the girls up!”

Vanessa bursts out laughing again. The girl’s not helping her case. “Dig, dig, dig, bitch!”

Brooke squeals in protest as Vanessa feels her smile hurt her face. “You know what I mean! Ugh, God. Just answer the question and stop picking on me. I’m a very important celebrity. Don’t you know who I am?”

Brooke’s deadpan sort of humour is killing Vanessa. She tries to get out another jibe through her laugh. “Jesus, I hope that’s not how you normally interview people.”

There’s a pause as Brooke laughs back. Vanessa thinks over her question. “I don’t know. Guess I just didn’t want to come across like a showoff.”

“But it’s just a fact. You’re good,” Brooke shrugs. The praise makes Vanessa’s heart light up.

“An’ I guess I didn’t want the same as you. People fightin’ over me,” she shrugs back, making light of Brooke’s compliment. Brooke pulls a face.

“I don’t know about that, I think I’m going to have to fight off a couple of these girls if I want you,” she comments offhandedly, Vanessa suddenly feeling like she’d been shocked with a tazer. She’d been so focused on trying to charm the partner she wanted that she had no idea the celebrities would’ve been gunning for her too.

“Who wants to be partnered with me?” she asks, thinking retrospectively that she could’ve tried to appear a little less keen.

“Well, Asia’s making a bee-line, I know that much. And Willam was all smiles after she left you. And, I mean, I wouldn’t mind getting you either,” Brooke says, her last comment making Vanessa happier than it should.

“Wouldn’t mind? You’re gonna have to work harder than that,” Vanessa raises her eyebrows, faux-unimpressed. She has to slam her mouth shut at the end of her sentence to avoid tacking on a “baby” to the end of it. Jesus, what is wrong with her?

“You know they give us that card at the end where we write our top three partner choices on it,” Brooke continues. The fact she is trying so hard to come across as nonchalant is making her seem everything but, and Vanessa is loving it. “Hypothetically…would I be on yours?”

“Hypothetically? You might be,” Vanessa grins at her, spins round and misses the look that Brooke gives back at her. Is this flirting? She needs to stop.

“And, uh, hypothetically, of course, would I be first, second or third on that list?”

Vanessa looks to the ceiling, maintains the charade of not appearing overly keen. “At the moment, you are…third.”

Brooke’s face is so actively shocked that Vanessa bursts out laughing. “Third?! You bitch! Why?”

Vanessa composes herself. “Well first of all, I don’t know where you’re putting me on this list, girl, so I gotta hedge my bets. Second, I’m still trying to recover from wouldn’t mind, so that knocks you down a place. Also you just called me a bitch, so you’re now reserve-third.”

“If I told you you were first on my list, does that move me up a place?” Brooke smiles at her cheekily. Vanessa tries to keep a calm exterior and not show Brooke that she’s maybe-sort-of-a-little-bit melting at her words.

“You could. How do I know you’re telling the truth, though?”

Brooke shrugs a little. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

With that, Vanessa feels Brooke’s hand being ripped out of her own and coming to rest in between her shoulder blades, and suddenly she’s being dipped to the ground and brought back up again. She ends up pressed up against Brooke’s chest, her face tilted up to meet hers and her lips way too close to be good for Vanessa’s heart rate. She hears an impressed cry from someone- probably Monique or Akeria stirring the pot- and there’s a kind of hush that falls over the room in response to the move that’s a little bit more advanced than anyone was expecting.

“O-kay!” a producer exclaims, and Vanessa melts out of hold, only a little bit captivated. “If we could all switch round again, uh, I think we’ll have Aja with…Farrah-”

Brooke gives her a wink and a smile as she walks away towards Courtney who she’s been paired with next, and Vanessa attempts to compose herself as she gives a little wave back and tries to focus on Monet who she’s now in front of.

If things all ended up the way she wanted them to, this was going to be a very interesting season.

38 notes · View notes

deanofwhumpuniversity · 5 years ago

Text

Aurora Australis: Part 1

The beginning of Argos’ captivity

Content Warning: Mental/emotional whump, body horror/dismantling of a robot, mental confusion, diss@sociation, dehumanizing language (toward a non-human person, but still. Slightly creepy/intimate whumper, non-consensual touch, careless whumper, android whumpee. Tell me if I missed anything that I should warn for.

@whumpthisway and @redstainedsocks had a prompt that sorta falls into this, not exactly, maybe it’ll be up your alley anyway?

...

Rustle. Shuffle. Click-scrape. Peel-pop. Rustlerustlerustle

Awareness began to filter back in through the dark, sluggish in a way that was new and worrying. Argos knew he knew the sounds around him, but his mind refused to form them into a useful narrative, instead following each audible oddity like a cat after a laser. So he tried to focus on something other than sound, and realized he was being jostled; almost passively, as if the pressure on his arm was incidental and the goal had naught to do with him at all.

How had he gotten here? Where was here anyway? Why had he been powered down in the first place? He tried to access his info banks from just before the shutdown, but the most immediate data seemed corrupted. Argos began to rewind his sense memory; jolts of static pushed back against his consciousness, forcing him out of the playback again and again. Every burst of fuzziness muddied his thoughts and threatened to make him forget what he was attempting. He rerouted his processes, drawing his senses away from the manhandling of his frame and the white noise surrounding him, to focus on pushing through his damaged memory. Static with no ears to grate on or eyes to confuse, static that still rubbed his senses raw like nails on the chalkboard of his mind, and finally, finally, heavily distorted sensory input began to play back. He tried to place what he was seeing. Did he recall...trees? Was that a person?

“There we are!”

A peeling-tearing noise and an exclamation shook Argos from his search, expanding his senses back into his body, and the first thing he fully processed was that he did not know that voice. He began to boot up his eyes, wondering how addled his brain must be that he hadn’t thought to do so before. But in the same moment he knew that once he did, this unknown human would be able to tell he was awake. My visual display wasn’t designed for stealth. What a strange thought to have...

But as his faceplate lit up with scrolling green glyphs, the woman who came into focus wasn’t paying any attention to his expression, instead peering intently through a mounted magnifying glass, tinkering around in a bit of armor he recognized had once been plating his lower arm. It was familiar to him, a piece of him but no longer part of him. He searched his sensory map and found his arm. It was still his, still there. Seemed...in working order, but he didn’t try to move it. Not yet. The plate the human handled reverently was discolored on the outside, warped even. He was sure he knew what burn damage looked like, though he’d never seen it on himself before. This human must be here to fix him.

“Lim, come look at this!”

Someone approached from Argos’ other side. Left, his mind unhelpfully supplied. North? Upon realizing that he wasn’t sure, he began to cast about in his software again. Compass, magnetic direction, this should be ingrained, shouldn’t it? He’d always known where he was. Hadn’t he? He was even more concerned to realize that he simply didn’t remember whether or not he’d ever felt this lost before. He hoped not. He didn’t like it.

That train of thought came to a halt as the new figure came into focus. That one, he knew that one. How did he know that one? His visual field widened ever so slightly, and he saw he was in an open tent, flaps pinned back and sunlight streaming in. There were more tents, distant figures, and trees beyond. He felt an odd sense of familiarity, a technological deja-vu that meant somewhere in his visual databanks lay an image that would match up with this clearing. All he had to do was go through every moment, frame by frame, until he found it, and he would know where he was and hopefully, how he had gotten here.

But the new figure, the Lim human he presumed, was speaking, and for some reason Argos was so distracted with watching his movements that he barely caught the exchange. “-- be awake like this?” He was standing over Argos now, looking directly at his face, blue-grey eyes flicking back and forth slightly like he was trying to read the streams of vertical light that played across it. Argos found that thought strangely...endearing? That was new. He willed himself to display a disarming smile in the flickering lights for a moment, but the man simply furrowed his brow further.

The other human, the mechanic, started at this question and pushed the magnifying glass aside. She blinked up at Argos’ display as her eyes refocused, as though she was just now remembering the bit of armor she’d been examining had come from a whole body. Her momentary confusion was instantly replaced with a beaming smile, and instead of answering, she leaned in close to Argos’ faceplate. “Well look at you, all shiny and green! How long have you been up and running?” She was so close her eyes nearly crossed to watch the symbols of his display, and he had to consciously keep the data stream from speeding up along with his racing thoughts.

Personal space. Humans expect a meter of personal space from unknown persons, +.1 meter for every centimeter in height you have over them. Argos heard this admonishment in a lightly accented voice that he knew intrinsically, knew better than his own titanium bones, emanating from nowhere but simply existing in his mind, deeper than his hazy recent memory, too deep to be lost from data corruption or structural damage or whatever had happened to bring him to this circumstance.

He tried to shift back against the table, but he was already as flat as was possible, in a slumped and inhuman posture, apparently having been dead weight when he’d been laid down. He cringed internally, and realized he’d allowed the feeling to play across his face for just a moment before he schooled himself. The mechanic either didn’t notice the change, or didn’t understand it, and continued eyeing him with somewhat manic glee. He hoped if he answered her question perhaps she would move back to her stool.

“I…” He began to speak and both humans leaned back. The woman’s face was even more excited than before, somehow. But the man’s expression was one of...distaste? This worried Argos, though he wasn’t sure entirely why. He started again, “I don’t know. I don’t know what time it is...what day it is. My internal clock seems to have desynced.”

He was becoming more lucid by the moment, he knew that he was deeply damaged, both in hardware and in soft, but he had all the means at his disposal to get his bearings and make repairs. He cast about for a wireless signal, something he could use to sync with, to triangulate the time and place, and found a likely beacon on the periphery of his senses. He sent a signal to it, attempting to pair, but a sharp white jolt poured back into him. Not information, not data, but the absolute absence of it, a molten wipe that erased his request and cauterized his ability to send again. The readout on his faceplate devolved into static as his thoughts were overloaded and wiped clear of anything but pain, and his body arched in fits off the table as nonsense commands were sent to his synthetic muscles. He couldn’t remember words, or language, and he didn’t mean to try to speak, but a series of distressed metallic trills came from the speakers at the base of his throat.

It may have been a moment, or an hour, and he felt feverish as coolant rushed to prevent his processors from overheating. Even if he’d been able to trust his own internal clock, he couldn’t focus on anything but a litany of stop stop make it stop. He’d disconnected from the wireless beacon almost immediately but the feedback ran its course through his frame, down his arms and legs then doubling back to smolder in his core. Finally, gradually Argos felt his thoughts falling back into order, almost like waking from a reboot but not quite so drowsy, and not nearly so refreshing. Aftershocks of blank, dataless pain danced about his systems, and he felt his fingers twitching without his control. When he was able to focus his optics again, he saw the mechanic’s smile had become less childlike, more wolfish.

“That’ll be the wireless jammer, sorry I didn’t warn you, but we haven’t exactly had a chance to speak, have we?” She reached up, resting her hand just above the reflective plate that served Argos as a face, as though cupping his cheek from an inch away. He imagined he could still feel her touch, fingerprints on the glass, sinking through to tangle in the circuits underneath. He couldn’t help the jerking shudder at the thought, but felt some morbid relief that she would see it as another spasm of lingering pain. “I have it under control, thanks.” Her eyes didn’t move, though it was clear she wasn’t speaking to him.

“We should still restrain it. Physically.” Lim was still there, husky voice so neutral as to sound almost bored. This troubled Argos before he even had time to process the human’s words. “At least until you have it disassembled.”

#android whump #robot whump #mental whump #emotional whump #whump #missives from the dean #immortal whumpee #aurora australis #Reynan Lim #Zinnia Brown #argos

31 notes · View notes

spacebookettes · 4 years ago

Text

Unstable Lady

Retirement homes are better now. Now the robots assist. Endless Gaga dancing queens, the robots keep the people young.

Unstable Lady had trouble getting about, the Walky Walky electronic leg braces kept her independent. Though hers had little bells on. Tinkling little sounds could be heard slowly moving around the Home. The tinkling little sound meant you had to be alert, if you didn’t want to succumb. In the office the assistants heard the familiar tinkling and all looked around. The tinkling stopped and someone had not come into view. The faces looked at each other and sighed a little. An assistant went to look. Nothing. No one in the corridor. The air ducting above them creaked. The assistant got the ladders, popped the vent door in the ducting and had a look. Nothing. Their head torch only saw emptiness. They heard a little tinkling below them. The assistant climbed down. Nothing.

At lunch the robots brought around the various delights. The assistants kept looking over to Unstable Lady. She ate alone, with her back to everyone. An occasional tinkling took attentions away from their food.

As the Unstable Lady walked away from the luncheon. She glanced at the little dents, burn marks and splatterings that littered the bright hallways and corridors. Each a little shrine to past ‘achievements’. They had taken Unstable Lady's possessions, her little toolbox and assortment of gizmos, bits of string, old tubing that sort of thing. Younger she had collected all kinds of useful objects. Only a few left hidden.

A piece of funneled plastic was one of them. She liked to use it to project little tinklings around corners. Unstable Lady kept fruit stalks she could still expertly curve through the air. Some of the people believed the home was infested. Only some of the people. No longer any salt pots or little sachets. Balls weren’t allowed anymore, POP. The robots had been replaced with more robust ones... these still had some ‘achievements.'

Unstable Lady was miserable. She snapped a giant glow stick and shoved it up her nose. A robot hand retrieved it and patted Unstable Lady on the head.

Unstable Lady had a few regrets in her cruelty.. even for her she felt she had gone too far on occasion. The pangs of regret stayed with her.

Unstable Lady had resisted all taming medication. They’d tried the lot as well. “is she psychotic”

Someone played Rammstein in their room. Wild tinkling.

The End

By Peter Stringer

Rasputin

Rasputin is still alive they say. He is and he lives in Cheshire, for the cheese.

He seems to have made himself immortal somehow accidentally.

“You’re intolerant to dairy"

‘MILK, I made myself invulnerable to all toxins’

“yes, but, I’m afraid your bowel can’t tolerate dairy anymore... you’ll be fine if you switch to soya milk... organic soya milk, no horrible GMOs... massive amounts of gmo pollen, humanity had no business introducing into an already strained earthly eco system.”

The doctor started to leave, she looked back... “at least the native people’s investment in green technology saved the day, the fidget droids and such. No need for chemicals now.”

She looked back a second time... “of course they’ve got the nukes now.”

By Peter Stringer

Space girls

A mission to Pluto. A mission that goes missing some where around the orbit of Jupiter.

“Where are we” all the shuttles systems were black, no light anywhere. “Is everyone ok" the five space girls all checked in. The lights and flashing buttons of the shuttle all came back to life. The space girls all looked out of the command module windows. Total blackness. No stars.

A globule of liquid moved slowly across the windows. The Space Girls all got close to the window to watch. They were reflected in the liquid ball. The reflections winked back. The Space Girls all drew backwards shocked inhaling. They all watched the liquid disappear beyond the window. “check all the instruments for position and orientation” one of them checked and rechecked their control panel. Nothing. No readings. “try the thrusters". one of them flipped the relevant switches. No inertia. The thrusters worked, there was just no apparent movement. The command module stopped shaking as the Space Girl flipped back the switches. One of the Space Girls dropped to the floor, dead.

The four Space Girls had checked the whole shuttle craft. They tried every piece of scientific equipment on board to see if they could learn just anything. Nothing. They ate some of the nourishing space goo packets. It was tasteless. They had enough food and water for months.

The four Space Girls sat for hours losing track of all space and time. The command module was silent. Someone was keeping an eye on the windows for signs of anything. A space walk, all that was left.

The short straw suited up. They glanced and stared at the logo of the Space Girl Missions; it’s looping white rings and central flashing green star. The symbol she had been so proud to be representing. Next to it a sponsor advertisement for Red Space Dew. Had it always been the sponsor; an anti deja vu came over her. The trivial advertisment seemed alien to her, new. Had it always been there.

The hatch doors silently opened. The Space Girl looked out into the blackness. A gloved hand reached out beyond the hatch doors. Nothing. Nothing changed. She shifted her body closer to the void. A space boot stepped out onto the hull of the space shuttle. She wasn’t floating, there was gravity. It felt like Earth gravity. Space Girl slipped falling along around the hull of the shuttle. Falling around it’s gravity. The only gravity in existence was the ship. She kept falling. External equipment broke off of the hull and joined Space Girl falling around and around. She looked desperately for the hatch opening. It’s central to the science module next to the spectrum sensors; they had broken off and were clattering somewhere near her. “ok" she shuffled her suited body to a central pathway on the module. Wildly trying for anything that felt like a gap. Something hooked around space girls arm. An antenna or some broken attachment and she jolted to a stop. Half a leg inside the hatchway.

Back on the ship Short Straw told them there was nothing in existence out there. Only them and the shuttle. Someone inhaled quickly and pointed toward the hatch window. A globule of liquid slowly floated across. They dare not look too closely.

The clattering equipment falling around the outside of the space shuttle was constant. The four Space Girls all had noise cancelling headsets on.

The solar interweb was offline. No connection to Earth. No SpaceTube. No SpaceGram. No SpaceTweet. Everything on the solar cloud, so no music. No pics. No video. Through the weeks the Space Girls got to know each other over the microphones of the headsets. Each sentence spoken with an obnoxious background clattering. Short Straw, they decided was the luckiest, even with her outside encounter.

Weeks later. They had tried the thrusters in all directions, full thrust. Full thrust for days. Random thruster directions. Spinning thrusters. Sudden reverse thrusters. Nothing. All signals had been sent out into the void.

They were putting on a play. Each Space Girl had to create her own comedy show. Once a week. One of them was impersonating some future celebrity to roaring laughter, at the front of the command module. The laughter stopped, a massive sphere of liquid undulated across the windows. The back of the impersonator reflected. The reflection dropped to the floor. The impersonator didn’t; she dare not move looking behind her at the three other faces and no reflection of herself. The liquid disappeared beyond the window.

Two days later the void was full of liquid globules. Giant and small. All manner of winkings and death scenes was being reflected back at the four Space Girls. They moved to a part of the shuttle with no windows.

The Space Girls didn’t want to put on anymore stand-up. The things they’d seen reflected back from the void would finish most people. They had rationed the food so far over the weeks. The Space Girls had a feast. Full bellies the ship started to shake. Short Straw got to the piloting controls first. Beyond the windows the liquid was swirling and merging, streaming in all directions. The shuttle had thrust. Short Straw could control the direction. The liquid was flying apart in all directions. A bright light was in front of them, growing bigger. Noise came from the cabin speakers. They took off their headsets to listen. ‘Girl look at that body, girl look at that body, girl look at that body, I work out, girl look at that body, girl look at that body, girl look at that body...I'm sexy and i know it'

Jupiter came into view. The liquid disappeared into the star studded space-scape. They all danced and sang with smiles and laughter. ‘wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle, yeah.

The End

By Peter Stringer

The Other Woman

“we should work on other projects”

The man’s words echoed around Wednesday.

They had been partners, co-workers. A small business of stories. The man had been emotionally disturbed at the beginning of both of their relationships. A man who made no sense, whirling away from functional adulthood. Bonsai trees helped. The Other Woman helped more.

The man loved his Significant Other. But perhaps two more, secret, partnerships and he knew the Other Woman would wait; very patiently... Almost.

He loved the nakedness, with both: he felt free. He only felt free clothed... with his Significant Other. He felt massive colleague respect for the Other Woman. Their first partnership had been cyber trees. The meeting of two non-professional minds. She good at the branches, he good at the leaves. They both knew they wanted nakedness. The first time next to the mulch. He knew the Other Woman would fall. He knew he could keep her... and he knew that made him rotten.

He thought the Other Woman was a thinker, she wanted to save the world and believed her little piece of it might. He too believed in her. But he was one of the monsters, he knew, she feared. If life were a film he would have slowly fallen in love with the Other Woman.

The man wanted to be king and felt a spark of it when he met the Other Woman. They were massively successful. She did the coding, he did the wiring. The Other Woman saved him, he knew she knew it.

He was in charge of the money, she was in charge of the lasers. That was his mistake.

He wasn't so rotten that he’d fiddle the money in his favour. In fact he did fiddle the money, fiddled himself in her favour. It helped with the knowledge that he’d always love the Significant Other. The man and the Other Woman worked hard, long into the night... there was so much to do. She came up with the bigger concepts, he ordered the equipment.

The Other Woman, he knew, her patience was running out.

He was the thinker, she was becoming a monster.

He had fiddled the finances, she had fiddled the equipment.

The End

By Peter Stringer

#future tale #future things #retirement #retirement home #pensioner #creative writing #shorts stories #scifi #scifiandfantasy #silly story #mean lady #mischief #book #space shuttle #pluto #saturn #space travel #lost in space

2 notes · View notes

nataliedanovelist · 5 years ago

Text

GF - Worth It

My half of an art-trade with @calista-222. I hope you like it! They were cool with pretty much anything but then suggested a Stan O’ War fic and I just had to go for it! I love seeing how the Kings of the Sea are doing out on their dream boat!

If any of you are interested in an art-trade, hit me up! More information can be found here!

~~~~~~~~~~

Stan opened his eyes, but it took him a minute or two to truly wake up, and then a few more minutes to figure out what woke him. His back was sore, but that wasn’t what pulled him from his slumber. There was no disturbing light or sounds. No storm that rocked the boat and no sense of incoming danger.

An echo of voices. It wasn’t fair to call it a nightmare, because there was no “plot” and no real fear, just a lurching feeling that something was wrong, a deja vu feeling from the end of summer.

“It’s me! Grunkle Stan, it’s me!”

“It’s all gone.”

“I KNOW my grunkle is in there somewhere!”

“Stan has no idea, but he did it. He saved the world. He saved me.”

“We saved the world, but what’s the point?”

“... you’re our hero, Stanley.”

Stan sighed to himself. Many other voices had plagued his sleep, but those stuck out. He can still remember what he was thinking and feeling that day. First, confusion. Just mild confusion with no real panic. Then a bizarre what-did-I-walk-into feeling, like he was invading something private. When the stranger in the suit hugged him he automatically felt compelled to do something, but he had no idea what and no one was asking him to do anything. That wasn’t true; they were begging him to remember. But remember what? Did he forget something important, like an item at the grocery store, or a task he had to accomplish? It didn’t seem likely, all he really knew was his own name, and that was only because everyone around him called him that. Then when they were in the house he finally felt comfortable, the first real feeling like he belonged, and then right before Waddles jumped on him he had a strong sense of regret, but for what?

It was no wonder that by the end of the day he was exhausted and fell asleep with his family clinging onto that old armchair. Forget fighting an unholy demon, that rollercoaster of emotions was enough to knock anyone out cold for days.

Stan, now fully recovered and with all of his memories (all of the important ones, anyways), still occasionally had to live with the consequences of his actions, like unpeaceful night of sleep and the sickening feeling that his family’s suffering was partly his fault. Sure, Sixer made a deal with the triangle in the first place, and yes Mabel traded the rift away, and yeah okay Stan only agreed to it because he believe it was the only way (and because it was just too easy), but the fact that he caused those kids and his brother so much pain really stinks.

Oh well. What was it that Ma used to say? No use crying over spilt milk? Hm, milk. Stan threw off his covers and decided to get up and have a midnight snack. He popped his back and then glanced up at the bunk bed above him, then shook his head when he found the bed empty; Ford was elsewhere on the Stan O’ War II. Stan slipped on his slippers and pulled on his robe before leaving the small bedroom for the main area on the boat, the living room, dining room, and kitchen all in one small, confined space.

Sure enough, sitting at the dining table with books and journals before him was his nerdy twin brother, with an empty cup of joe by his side. Most of the light came from the moon outside, leaking in through a window, and a bright lantern on the table. Ford looked up at him and gave him a concerned look. “Everything alright, Stanley?”

The old conman shook his head. “Yeah, just gettin’ a midnight snack.” He opened the fridge and grabbed the carton of milk, checking to make sure it was still fine to use before fishing out the pot to heat it up. “Want some warm milk?”

“Thank you, but no thank you. I’m in the middle of a good train of thought and I would rather not disturb it with drowsiness that would lead to sleep.”

“Geez, Poindexter, you do know that humans need sleep to, I dunno, not end up dead, right?”

Ford chuckled and wrote something down in his journal. “Yes, I know. I swear, once I finish this I’ll go to bed.”

Stan just smiled and whisked the milk in the pot. “Fine, whatever. But if I have to pull your sorry butt outta the Arctic ocean again, you’re gonna…” The younger twin was interrupted by a distant cellphone ringing, a cheerful tune. He hurried back to the bedroom with his brother closely behind him. It sounded like Mabel was calling and she might need help. Just in time, Stan picked up his phone from the nightstand and answered it, putting it on speaker so Ford could listen. “Mabel, pumpkin?”

“Hi, Grunkle Stan!” Her cheerful voice rang.

Stan could breathe a little easier. He and Ford heard from those kids at least three times a day via text messages, e-mails, and phone calls, but usually their calls weren’t at three in the morning. “Hey there, sweetie. Whatcha up to?”

“Nothing, just missed my favorite old guys in the whole world.” Mabel said, and it sounded like she was being honest. No nightmares and she needed counselling, no bad boys giving her grief, no girls making fun of her. She truly was calling just to call.

“We missed you too, pumpkin.”

“Hello there, Mabel.” Ford called as they walked back to the main room to make sure the milk wouldn’t burn. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah! Waddles got to come to school today! My art classes needed a good muse and I volunteered Waddles! He got to roll around in front of the whole class and just be cute while he painted and sketched or whatever everyone felt like doing, and he loved it! Our teacher even gave him potatoes! He had so much fun!”

“Course that fat, naked jerk would love all that extra attention.” Stan sneered as he whisked some honey into the milk. “How’s your folks liking him?”

“Dad loves him! Says he makes the perfect football-buddy! Mom was unsure about him at first, but now he follows her around and she likes him enough. Kinda like someone else I know who claims to hate him but actually really really loved him.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. How are your parents?”

“They’re fine. Busy. Dad’s working on this new TV show about a boy with magical powers and alien stepmoms, and Mom’s really busy at the hospital. It’s mostly been Dip-Dip and I and Waddles here.”

“Mabel!” A voice interrupted her from afar. “Do you know what time it is?!”

“It’s only seven, Dipper, relax.”

“That means it’s three in the morning for them!”

Mabel gasped as she realized her mistake. “I thought you said eight hours back, not forward! I’m sorry, guys!” She said to her great-uncles. “I’m sorry I woke you up!” She was worried that she had scared them or had bothered them from a goodnight’s sleep.

“Nah, we were awake, sweetie, don’t worry about it.” Stan reassured her. “Don’t you ever apologize for calling, okay? I’m always happy to hear from you, no matter what time of day.”

“Well, okay. If you're sure.”

“We’re sure, my dear.” Ford added. “Is your brother there?”

“Yeah! Hold on… DIPPIN’ SAUCE!” It sounded like Mabel was running towards him and soon her end of the line was on speaker, too.

“Hey guys, sorry, I told Mabel…”

“Dipper, get off her back.” Stan chuckled. “It’s like I told her, I don’t want any of you little gremlins to ever say sorry for calling, okay?”

Dipper was grateful that his uncles couldn’t see his reddening face. “Okay. So… uh, how was Galway?”

“Oh, it was beautiful!” Ford answered; he took the phone from Stan so he could work on the milk safely and he sat at the table. “You kids would have found it breathtaking! The architecture of the town was gorgeous…”

“The Galway Girls were prettier.” Stan added in.

Ford chuckled. “Yes, apparently Stan managed to charm a handful of ladies there, one inn-keeper in particular took a fancy to him.”

“Took a fancy, what year is it, ya nerd, 1886?”

The kids laughed at the other end. “Did you find any selkies or mermaids?” Mabel asked; ever since Ford told her about selkies she had her heart set on seeing one.

“No, not yet.” Ford said. “But I promise that when we meet one we will let you know.”

“Do you honestly think selkies are real?” Dipper asked. “I mean they’re not like sirens or any other species that has been discovered; it’s a species entirely dependent on magic.”

“Magic is nothing more than science we can’t explain, Dipper. I’m sure that there is, at least, a possibility of selkies existing. Now, a bit off topic perhaps, but tell us about the robotic club. You said you’re working on a recreation of an old robot from an 80s movie?”

Dipper and Mabel happily chatted about their day while their uncles listened. Stan, a few minutes later was leaning against the counter with a mug of warm milk in his hands. He sipped his beverage as he watched Ford listen attentively, the phone on the table, the picture of Mabel and Dipper lighting up the tiny screen. Despite everything, Stan smiled contently, knowing that if he had to do it all over again he would.

#GF #gravity falls #ford pines #stan pines #mabel pines #dipper pines #fanfiction #gift #calista-222 #art trade #hit me up if ya wanna do one

46 notes · View notes

jackjots · 4 years ago

Text

#30 Werewolves

Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye 30 Day Prompt

(This takes place after Episode 10 and references the Podcast Epilogue)

Day #30 @30daysofwayward

(I do not own any other characters or place names outside of Shelby St. Ranger, this is just for fun)

After another long week hiding in my house and plugging away, I went down to the Dead Canary to celebrate finishing the first draft of my book. As I was way ahead of schedule, I had time to breathe before going back into it and probably picking at plot lines like detangling chains in a jewelry box. It was around dinner time, so I was surprised to see a closed sign on the door. I realized every store in town was closed. I walked over to GPS and Wallis and inquired if they knew where everyone was.

“Town hall.” Wallis announced after consulting with GPS. “Which is that way!” His smile took up half his face and I found it both disquieting and charming. I thanked them.

Even though going to the one place the whole town was scared me, I was too curious not to. I had to know what was going on. And I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what.

I didn’t even have to go inside to hear what was happening.

They were doing it, they were coming out.

The fact that I was unincluded did not upset me. If anything, I felt safer not being in that room. As I peeked through the window, feeling a wave of deja vu from the last time I did this, I noticed not all the werewolves were on the stage discussing with the town that werewolves did, in fact, exist and some of them weren’t so bad. I was surprised to see Desmond was the one telling everyone. And that he looked comfortable there on stage. Helen and Olivia stood on the stage with him, and I could see the back of Sybilus’ head next to Rita sitting near the front. Vern was off to the side, as if waiting to see how everyone would react. The Sheriff was next to him, looking on edge, but also confident.

Desmond was speaking: “We are still the people you’ve known, the people you have been friends with for ages. We are werewolves, but we are not that unlike you.”

Someone rose a hand. I realized it was Ags. “Why did you lie about it?”

“We were afraid that you would kill us.”

“You were afraid of us?” Someone I couldn’t quite make out said, sounding surprised.

“Yes.” He took a moment to look around the room. “I want to say this: Connor Creek is our town. All of us. Together. We hope that you come together with us and help us protect this secret of our town. Together.”

Someone stood up and I recognized Aubrey’s voice as he spoke. “I will protect you.”

Riley stood up next. “I will protect you.” Olivia looked obviously touched.

The whole town rose to their feet.

I could feel the tears filling my eyes.

I walked away then, and I was sitting outside of the Dead Canary when Desmond came back. “Shelby, you didn’t come to the town hall.”

I remembered the meeting flyer then, that had been sitting in my mailbox that I’d kept avoiding. “I didn’t realize what it was about.” “You were listening from here?”

“No, I was observing, again.”

“Spying you mean. You could’ve come inside.”

“Wasn’t my place.”

“Shelby, when you gunna learn you belong here.”

“I heard you. You sounded good up there.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. You’re a natural public speaker.” I got up off the ground. “I do feel like I belong here. Especially now.”

“You don’t have to tell everyone what you are. But if you do, I think they’ll welcome it. Everyone else has, at the end there, I think you missed that part.”

“I did. I’m glad.” I sighed. “You going to open?”

“Yeah, Quinn will be back shortly.”

“I need a drink. To celebrate. I finished my book. Or, well, the first draft. Or maybe that’s not what we should be celebrating.”

“We can celebrate both. I have a feeling a lot more people are going to be in tonight than usual. Think you can handle that?”

I nodded. When Desmond opened the door, I went straight to the middle barstool and sat down. I sighed contentedly as he slid me a beer. I could hear the chatter of the town as they filtered down the hill on their way to the bar.

“Thanks Desmond.” I said quietly, before I wouldn’t be able to.

“For what?” “For everything.”

Aubrey came up to me as a handful of people spilled into the bar. “Desmond, I have a couple of questions.” His eyes were glowing with excitement.

“I figured you would.”

“Oh, good you’re here Shelby.” Aubrey noticed me late. “As my first question was indeed if we could work on that book, for the town’s sake.”

Desmond tilted his head. “I’ll discuss it with them, but I imagine it’ll be alright.”

Aubrey grabbed my shoulder. “Hear that?” He frantically looked between us.

“Just wait ‘til I check with them. What else did you want to ask Aubrey?”

“Desmond, have you considered running for town council?”

Here you go, Aubrey. Let me know if this is enough. - Shelby St. Ranger

#30daysofwayward #waywardguidefortheuntrainedeye #tin can bros #werewolves

2 notes · View notes

shookethbrooketh · 5 years ago

Text

seven days

day five

summary: dan is stuck in the wrong timeline. one day, he kisses phil goodnight. the next morning, he’s completely alone. he doesn’t even recognize where he wakes up, and little details in the world around him have changed. he has no clue what’s happening or where to go next in an effort to fix it; all he knows is that he has to find phil.

genre: sci-fi, a lil bit of angst, happy ending

warnings: just some swearing!

fic word count: 13.6k chapter word count: 3.3k

written for the @phandomreversebang ! inspired by the awesome moodboard/edits by @maybeformepersonally ! beta’d (beginning to end) by @i-might-just-leave-soon !

dan clambered to his feet and made his way to the door. he walked slowly and emotionlessly back to the flower shop and into its adjacent flat, where he flopped back down onto the same couch he woke up on. he hadn’t even anything to process; he knew exactly what he had to do. he had to wait - for another day, for another trope, for another phil.

read it on ao3

Dan woke up in his bunk and attempted to stretch his arms, but, as usual, there was no space. Why did he and Phil choose to sleep in stupid, tiny bunks instead of the master bed?

The movement of the tour bus was soothing to Dan; he couldn’t quite remember what had happened, but he felt as if he’d had a long, terrible dream. He tore open the curtain to his bunk and carefully slid out so as to not hit his head, but as soon as his feet hit the floor he could tell he wasn’t in his tour bus at all.

Everything came flooding back to him; Interactive Introverts had ended nearly a year earlier, yet simultaneously it hadn’t happened at all, and in this universe it never would. Dan certainly was in a tour bus, but it wasn’t the II bus, and it certainly wasn’t 2018.

“Shit,” he heard from a bunk to the right of his. “I’ve really got to get used to that.” A body fell out of the bunk with absolutely no grace, and the man appearing before Dan barely managed to land feet first. He was rubbing the back of his blonde-haired head, and Dan could tell he was suffering a pain all too familiar: he’d hit his head on the bunk. “G’mornin’, Dan.”

Dan was taken aback for a moment by the fact that the man knew his name even though they’d never met, but within a few seconds he’d adjusted and shot back, “Morning.”

Dan sat down at the mini table in the bus’s “kitchen” and began mapping out his conversation. He’d learned to be quite careful conversing with people in odd timelines; if he arose too much suspicion, it could affect his ability to find Phil later in the day. He had to figure out what he needed to know to get by in this universe, and quick.

“So where are we going today again?” Dan asked nonchalantly. He was lucky in this particular timeline; he’d obviously had experience on tour, so he at least knew what that portion was like. He just needed the details.

“Detroit,” the man said, lighting a cigarette. Dan struggled not to cough. What kind of a tour bus was this? “Want one?” he asked, noticing Dan eyeing the stick of death.

“No thanks,” he answered, and the other man raised an eyebrow but let it go quickly.

“We’ll be rolling up in a few hours. You’re on opening act today,” he said, and Dan was immediately filled with fear and confusion.

“I’M opening?” Dan blurted out. He wasn’t a musician. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t even know that this was a musician’s tour. Who was he?

“I know it’s your first show on this rotation, but you’ll be fine. All you’ve gotta do is make sure the opening act gets in and set up alright. You’ll have help.” He paused to blow smoke directly in Dan’s face. “Roadie code.”

Dan wasn’t sure what ‘roadie code’ was, but all he could do in that moment was attempt to get out of the smoke cloud that was billowing in his direction. As soon as he could breathe, his focus turned quickly to trying to decipher what he was being told. He was a roadie, or at least that was what he had deduced. His duty for the day was to make sure everything ran smoothly for the opening act of this show, which worried him given that opening acts were about the only thing that he hadn’t experienced from his time on tour. However, he had other priorities.

“Who’s the opening act?” Dan asked.

“Some guy called Phil Lester. He’s another emo dude.”

Bingo.

Dan was completely mentally prepared when the bus arrived at the venue a few hours later. He’d been rehearsing in his head what he was going to say to Phil as much as he could from the moment he’d gotten there, and it was finally time to put it into action.

His head drifted off topic for a moment as he got off the bus and started unloading. He noticed that the venue was the same one he and Phil had been to when they went to Detroit for TATINOF, and he couldn’t help but take a moment to reminisce. Things had been so good then; their tour was beginning to look up from its original controversy, their relationship was as strong as ever, and, most importantly, they were together. The place held good memories for Dan, and he couldn’t help but hope it would hold good omens for him and the Phil of its universe.

“Here’s your crew,” the guy Dan had been talking to earlier said once they’d gotten inside. By then he’d learned that his name was Tommy, and he was the head roadie for the tour. Behind him were about five crew members from the venue. He recognized only one of them, which didn’t surprise him since it was ten years in the past, but it did remind him that he’d had an odd feeling of deja vu when he first saw her in 2016. Having his deja vu validated almost sent him into an existential crisis, but he repressed his thoughts; he had business to attend to.

“Awesome, thanks,” Dan finally replied. Tommy walked away and Dan turned to the crew. “Do you guys know where Phil is?”

“He’s in his dressing room. It’s down the hall, and it’s labeled ‘opener’,” responded someone with an emo haircut Dan had to remind himself was completely normal. He nodded, muttering something about setting up speakers as he disappeared in the direction the crew member was pointing.

His heart pounded as he came up to the door and knocked. Phil opened the door almost immediately, and Dan quickly discovered that Tommy was right about his emo act. He was dressed in almost complete black, and he seemed to have embraced his messy fringe to a point where Dan, with his 2019 brain, could barely handle looking at it.

“Are you the one in charge of getting me set up?” he asked immediately, radiating edgy, careless energy.

Dan was completely frozen out of shock; he’d had his plan all laid out, and Phil had immediately changed it. “Yeah, I-” he eventually stuttered out, but Phil cut him off before he could even begin to figure out what he was going to say next.

“Wonderful, let’s go.” Phil pushed right past him, and he was somehow rendered even more speechless than before. This Phil was not going to be easy to convince.

Dan followed as closely behind as he could, practically falling over himself as he trailed after Phil to the stage. The crew was already working efficiently to set everything up, and Phil stepped up to the microphone as if he owned the stage.

“We ready?” he asked, assuming a powerful stance; he truly practiced like he would perform.

Someone in a distant sound box gave him a thumbs up and started playing a track. “Where’s the backup?” he shouted.

From the gathering of the crew offstage, Dan heard a “they’ll be here a bit before the show!” Phil dramatically rolled his eyes and started singing to the recording. This clearly was a Phil completely unlike the one he knew.

The situation, however, was completely familiar to Dan. Having been on tour twice, he was more than used to a simple sound check. Phil seemed to prefer to jump straight into his songs while some of the crew was still setting up the main act’s equipment behind him, but Dan couldn’t help but appreciate the style just a bit. A quick rehearsal before a show was a refreshing, far from foreign concept in the foreign world he was living in.

After Phil had finished up, he took off back to his dressing room before Dan could even attempt to speak to him. He tried to prepare himself again before heading back down the hallway, but he was almost immediately interrupted. “Dan!”

He turned to see Tommy with the members of the band they’d been traveling with. Dan hadn’t heard of them, so he assumed it was a difference in the timelines, but they seemed to be a slightly different version of My Chemical Romance.

“Can you help me on security?”

“Security already?” asked, dumbfounded by the fact that warmups were just starting and they already needed security.

“A few fans are starting to get lined up; someone just needs to keep them in order. I’ll come get you off once we get through rehearsal, I promise. You’ll be back in time to cover opening rehearsal with the band.”

Dan sighed and responded, failing to hide his dejected tone. “Where do I need to go?”

By the time he’d been relieved from security duty, Dan had become completely aware of how much of a pain 2009 was. Despite his complete awareness that he was the exact same way, he couldn’t help but be dreadfully annoyed by the lines and lines of emo teenagers giving him flashbacks to times he didn’t particularly want to remember. Everything they said and did were completely reflective of what the culture used to be like, and it almost infuriated him to know that they had no idea how “cringe” they would consider their behavior to be in the future. That would be true of any point in a cultural timeline, but Dan could still barely handle living in the past with knowledge of the future.

Even worse, he had no way of telling time. Apparently a young roadie in 2009 didn’t carry a cell phone. Either that or Dan had left it on the bus. Regardless, he was driven nearly mad just by standing there waiting for someone to free him from this job and hoping and praying that he’d be able to talk to Phil before the show. If there was one thing Dan knew about performing, it was that once you perform, you leave. There was nothing better than a post-show tour bus sleep.

Finally, after what Dan could only assume by the movements of the sun was about an hour, Tommy came back with real venue security guards, and Dan was gone before they could even say a word. He had one thing on his mind, and that was getting to Phil’s dressing room.

This time, when he knocked on the door, Phil took slightly longer to answer. When he did open the door, he emerged with black eyeliner caked onto only one of his eyes. “You certainly seem to be interested in me this evening,” Phil said, continuing to apply eyeliner in front of him.

Dan had no idea what to say. All he could think was that he truly was in a fanfiction trope.

“I’m joking….obviously….” he trailed off, and Dan almost wanted to throw up in his mouth. Why did his journey through time have to be so cliche?

“Band’s here!” came a call from down the hall. Dan’s fists clenched up at his sides; he was quickly running out of time.

Dan walked awkwardly beside Phil to the stage, not daring to say anything at all after the ‘conversation’ they’d just had. It really wasn’t much of a conversation at all, but there wasn’t anything else he could call it.

Dan waited anxiously as the rehearsal went on, but he did enjoy watching; Phil seemed to be completely in his element performing with a band. Dan knew he had the whole science thing going, but he couldn’t help but hope this universe’s Phil would eventually make it big as a musician. In reality, his genre wouldn’t last long, but maybe he’d be like Brendon Urie and Fall Out Boy and evolve--or devolve, depending on the way you look at it.

Suddenly, rehearsal was over, and Dan didn’t even realize he’d drifted off into his own thoughts. It shocked him, given how focused he’d been earlier on his goal of trying to get information from Phil. Even he had become entranced by the appeal of the day’s trope. They do have a way of getting to you.

“Can I talk to you in your dressing room for a moment?” The words fell out of Dan’s mouth more than he spoke them. Nerves were beginning to creep back up; it was now or never.

“By all means,” Phil replied with a cool smirk. Dan couldn’t help but roll his eyes at himself for falling a bit for this Phil.

He followed Phil back to his dressing room like a terrified teenager who’d never kissed anyone before. When they reached the room, Phil held the door open for Dan, who went in and took a seat on the couch. The dressing room was nice, but it was nowhere near as nice as the one he and Phil had been in when they’d come to this venue. To be fair, seven years did tend to make a difference.

“So,” Phil said, running his hand through his hair and sitting down beside Dan, “what do you want to talk about?” He put a bit too much emphasis on the word talk for Dan’s taste.

Dan took a deep breath. Phil was sitting in such a manner that Dan knew he wanted to make out with him; Dan, however, had drastically different goals. Why was it that every time he needed information out of a Phil he had to ruin a perfectly good trope in doing it?

“I’m a time traveler.”

Phil took a moment to process this. Dan could recognize it as the same thoughts he went through when Phil first spoke to him; he’d had perfectly good plans in place, and what Dan said not only completely ruined them but probably also thoroughly confused him, at least at first.

“What year?”

“2019. I jumped around 2019 timelines for a few days and then got transported back to here. This is my second day in 2009.”

“Wow,” Phil said, clearly intrigued, “what’s it like?”

“It’s… good?” Dan said, a bit aggravated that they weren’t making better progress. “This entire thing goes out of style pretty soon, though,” he added, gesturing to Phil’s whole body. “But that doesn’t matter. You do this sort of science, don’t you? I know you’re nowhere near actual time travel, but you’re starting studies on the subject, are you not?”

Phil nodded. “You know about the Phils. You definitely are getting along well in your journey.” He stood up and walked over to a desk on the other side of the room and picked up a pad of paper and a pen; he seemed to have been drawing earlier. “What do you know?”

Dan’s entire story came spilling out almost uncontrollably. He truly hadn’t been able to vent to anyone the way he had to Phil, and it was just as relieving to him as it was helpful to Phil.

“That’s my story, I guess,” he ended, taking a deep breath and making eye contact with Phil, who had been taking some notes.

“I suppose it does make sense that this entire thing was a trope. That’s probably one of the simplest ways to explain how attracted I was to you having barely even spoken to you.” Dan wasn’t completely sure how to respond to that, so he just let Phil keep talking. “I have so many questions, mainly about the clear cultural differences that I can feel between us just from the way you spoke in your story and different things that you spoke of, but I doubt we have time to discuss anything like that. What matters is that we figure out how to get you home, back to your Phil.”

“As much as I’d love to explain fanfiction culture to you, I wholeheartedly agree.”

“Well, I can assume that your Phil is probably making efforts to look for you. He’s certainly realized something’s wrong with whatever Dan is in your universe right now.” Dan gulped; he hadn’t considered that there was another Dan currently with his Phil. It almost made him feel jealous. “The last Phil you met was right; there’s probably also another 2019 Phil in this universe somewhere. I’m not completely sure how you’d find him, but he’s probably the only one who knows enough to get you home.”

“But what do you know?” Dan asked, anxious to get to the point. Phil mentioning the lack of time for discussion suddenly made Dan quite aware that Phil had a show to open for any moment.

“Based off my research so far and what you’ve told me, I can make a couple calculations, but I definitely won’t be able to explain anything to you. I’ll just hand you a paper that you probably won’t be able to read, and you’ll have to show it to the next Phil. Keep it on you and hopefully it’ll come with you into the next timeline. I’ll work on all that after I perform--shit, the performance!”

Phil jumped up and ran to check a watch sitting on the desk. “I’m on in five!” he exclaimed, rushing for the door. “Let’s go!”

Dan and Phil rushed down the hall and backstage, where Phil got ready to go on. Dan tried to calm himself back into normal life, but it was difficult when normal life didn’t really seem to exist. All he could do for the time being was enjoy Phil’s music, and he was damned if he wasn’t going to enjoy Phil’s music.

He and Phil smiled at each other both as Phil went on and off the stage, and Phil disappeared quickly back into his dressing room to work on the calculations. Dan had nothing left to do but sit backstage and watch the rest of the concert.

When the band finally wrapped up, the entire crew immediately started moving, and Dan quickly joined in. “Dan, what are you doing?” he heard Tommy ask. “C’mon, you know we’re on band security getting out of here. Everyone else will get the stuff out just fine, even if we’re stuck here awhile. They’re slow, but they’re good.”

Dan bit his lip and walked out with Tommy and the band. He exhaled as he walked past Phil’s dressing room, trying to nonchalantly hit the door a bit in passing. He hoped Phil would notice; if he didn’t, Dan would be completely and utterly screwed.

They got out to the bus, and there was still no sign of Phil. The crew was beginning to get all the things outside and pack them underneath the bus; if Phil didn’t arrive soon, they’d have to leave without the paper.

“I’m going to go help them load,” Dan said, rushing off the bus before Tommy could comment on his obviously strange behavior. Dan quickly regretted his decision, as him helping sped up their process, and they were done loading within a few minutes.

“Let’s roll out,” someone said. The crew went back into the venue, and the rest of the roadies got on the bus. Dan furrowed his brow; he’d run out of time.

“Dan!” he heard, and his head turned faster than he could even register. A deep sigh of relief escaped his mouth as he saw Phil sprinting across the parking lot. Dan ran out to meet him, and when they finally met, Phil rested a hand on Dan’s shoulder to catch his breath.

He took Dan’s hand and placed the paper in it before taking a step back. “Good luck, Howell.”

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #phic stuff #seven days #dong and ping

10 notes · View notes

ageeksnerdyworld · 6 years ago

Text

Around and Around

Characters: Henry Stein

Word Count: 4,335

Trigger Warning: N/A

Summary: Henry heads back to the studio at the behest of his old friend Joey. Once there he starts to get a creeping feeling of deja vu. Is it just from being back in the studio after so long? Or is it something else entirely? Click the read more if you’d like.

~~~

His hand shook as he held the letter; reading the signature at the bottom over and over again.

Joey Drew.

He almost couldn’t believe it. The Joey Drew; his old friend and business partner wanted to meet. It was more than a shock seeing as how they hadn’t spoken in so many years. And the way Henry had left after everything that had happened? It didn’t really make sense that Joey would even want to see him. Neither of them had even so much as spoken to one another in the last 30 years. Well, Joey wanted to show him something at least. That much was clear. Henry couldn’t let go of the possibility, the hope more like, that the man would be there too.

He said goodbye to Linda, his wife who had been his rock during those first few difficult months of unemployment, got in his car and left for the studio. It didn’t surprise him in the least that he still knew the way. He had spent years of his life making almost the exact same commute back and forth every single day. Most people didn’t work nights, weekends, and holidays but then again most people had more regular kind of jobs. But then again most people weren’t building a cartoon company from scratch like he and Joey were.

Those days were so much simpler.

There wasn’t any talk of expanding the cartoon merchandise beyond the small scale toy line. There was never any talk of amusement parks, or animatronics, or life sized replicas of the characters. It was just the two of them. Henry and Joey just simply creating together. It was just the ideas and the characters. Back then it was just pen, paper, and ink.

And Bendy, he said to himself. There was always Bendy.

Pulling up into the parking lot of the studio Henry was truly surprised to see the place was still there. He parked and got out. As he closed the driver side door he stared up at the studio. Sure enough it looked the same as the day he left. A large, three story, brown brick building with the Joey Drew Studios logo hanging above the door. The logo of the studio was something that had been irrevocably branded into his brain; three movie reels with the name across. The only other thing that Henry could see with his eyes closed, could draw in his sleep, was and always will be Bendy. Bendy the Dancing Demon.

He walked up to the door thinking about why Joey liked that idea so much. Of all things he was stuck on the demon character. Henry knew his best friend was odd but this was pretty unsettling. Cartoons were supposed to be cute, and likable. They were supposed to be something that made you laugh. Something that made you forget about your problems for a while. A demon couldn’t possibly be any of that.

Trust me, Joey had said way back when. People will love our little demon.

Looking at the letter once more Henry took a deep breath. Was he really about to do this? Was he really going to face Joey after all this time?

He gripped the handle and turned it. The door opened with a slight creak.

He most definitely was.

You were right, Joey, he said to himself as he walked through the door. All those years ago we hadn’t even started but you knew. And you were right.

Walking through the hallway Henry felt like he was just coming back to work; starting a new day at the studio. Everything had an impact of familiarity. The floor, the walls, the chairs, the tables and even the air in the stuffy building felt so familiar. The cluttered papers all over the place was such a familiar sight it felt like home. Henry almost wished he hadn’t left when and how he did.

Almost.

But he did leave and there was nothing he could do to change it. All he could do now was figure out what Joey wanted him to see and then find it.

Walking in between the tables and chairs he looked for any sort of clue. Papers, a Bendy cutout in the corner next to an empty projector, a couple trash cans, but nothing telling where Joey wanted him to go. Then he made it to his old desk. Seeing his old desk sitting in the exact same corner, in the exact same position, and in the exact same cluttered mess, gave him a bit of a comfort in the unsettling atmosphere of the abandoned studio. Looking at the drawing of Bendy that lay on the surface of his desk sent a violent wave of uneasy recollection through his whole body. It was like a punch to the gut.

He shook it off and moved on.

He had to press on and figure out what Joey wanted him to find.

Henry didn’t know why but he had to do it.

Walking through the hallway, through the studio, Henry almost aimlessly wandered around. He wasn’t really sure what he needed to find. So his best plan of attack was to look until he stumbled across something that looked, or felt, like a clue that he was on the right track. He found a room with a sign hanging above that read; “Ink Machine Room.” But the supposed Ink Machine wasn’t in the room. Standing on the balcony Henry looked down to see a large cavernous hole in the middle of the room and a series of chains that fed down into the hole. Assuming that the chains were connected to the Ink Machine he looked around for something that would help him move those chains.

He chuckled to himself as his eyes landed on the large generator standing to his immediate left.

How’d you miss that?

Much to his surprise the generator was missing a gear and one of the power cells. Looking around he quickly found the missing pieces of the generator and put them back where they belonged. After lifting the ink machine from whatever dark depths it came from he made his way back out. Once outside he followed the large pipe that ran along the walls and ceiling. It was rather clear that the pipe was from the ink machine and connected to the power source. The pipe lead him to the break room. Once inside he saw a series of empty pedestals with small pictures hanging above each pillar. At the very back of the room there was a switch for the ink machine.

It didn’t take him long to figure out what he needed for each pedestal.

With each item in its rightful place Henry went over to the projectionist room to turn the ink pressure back on. Then he circled back to the power room to switch the power on. After that he headed back to the Ink Machine Room to turn the machine on. Much to his surprise the room was boarded up and blocked off.

How in the hell? he asked himself as he slowly approached the boards.

Suddenly a monstrous, ink-covered, living and breathing version of Bendy jumped up from behind the boards.

Henry fell back but then quickly righted himself again and began running for the exit. With the terrifying image of Bendy on his mind, and knowing that it was right behind him, Henry ran as fast as he could. Seeing the exit sign and the door underneath he took a sigh of relief. He was almost there.

Then the floorboards underneath gave way with a loud crash and Henry fell into the floor below.

~~~

Henry woke up on the floor of a room. Coming to he realized that there was a large, black, pentagram on the floor underneath him. A series of candles surrounded the outer circle. Two identical looking coffins stood directly across from the pentagram. An axe was leaning against one of the coffins. Getting up from the floor he walked over to the axe and picked it up.

I have to find a way out of here, he said.

With the axe in hand Henry swung at a series of boards that blocked the only way out of the room in which he stood. With nowhere else to go he walked down the stairs and through utility shaft #9. Entering the utility shaft Henry saw a small shelf with a small Bendy cut out, a few candles, and a few cans of bacon soup. Underneath, on the floor, sat a bowl, and a banjo. It had all the makings of a shrine.

HE WILL SET US FREE was written on the wall just above the head of the cut out.

The writing on the walls seemed new and rather odd but Henry found himself unmoved by the writing. He turned away from the makeshift shrine and turned the corner. There he found, much to his surprise, two more coffins leaning up against the wall and a pentagram painted on the floor underneath.

Strange, he thought and turned to see what else might be near.

He turned to see a tape player sitting on a ledge, next to a few eerie looking candles. Even stranger a tape seemed to be inside. Henry pressed play on the tape and the voice of Sammy Lawrence, the music director, emerged from the speakers. Henry stood in shock at the sound of Sammy’s voice; eerie and resonating loudly in the empty studio. What Sammy spoke of spooked Henry far more than both the coffin and the pentagram. He talked about Bendy as if he were some sort of god bestowing blessings on him in return for worship.

“I said, can I get an amen?”

Sammy’s voice sounded like he was right there standing next to him. Henry knew that was impossible but he also knew he had heard that before. He knew he had. But not while he was working at the studio. He felt like had been here before in this exact moment. No. He knew he had already found this tape and played it.

That he had felt this almost constant feeling of déjà vu before.

It’s nothing, he said to himself. Just old memories from the old studio.

But he couldn’t be so sure.

He shook the feeling off and continued to walk through the room; searching for an exit. Instead he found an ink-filled hallway. With no choice but to walk through it Henry held his breath and trudged through the murky, black, ink.

Henry was about halfway through the hallway when he heard a voice whispering.

Stopping he strained to try and make out what the voice was saying.

Then at the end of the hall he saw a figure walking across the floor. The figure seemed to be wearing white overalls, a mask, and carrying a Bendy cutout. This time Henry was close enough to make out what the mysterious figure said.

“Sheep, sheep, time for sleep.”

Henry waded through the rest of the ink and stepped into the room. Turning to his left he was very surprised to only see the Bendy cutout leaning atop another pentagram. Whoever the figure was they were gone. Shaking the creeping feeling off Henry turned away from the cutout. And there in the right corner of the room he saw a closed gate. Next to the gate was a lever which would seemingly activate, and most likely raise, the gate. On the opposite side of the gate was a panel of three lights; all of which were off.

Gotta redirect the power.

He knew the switches had to be in the room somewhere. So he retraced his steps and quickly found the ones he needed. With the power restored to the gate Henry flicked the switch and the gate slowly rose.

~~~

Henry shut the door behind him and took a few shaky breaths. This was insane. The characters are alive? The ink itself was alive? He was hiding in the bathroom on the music department’s floor. Hiding from the ink monsters that were outside the door; lurking the halls with murderous intent. He turned the faucet on and held his hands underneath the running water. Cupped hands now full he splashed the cold water against his face. He let out a shaky breath and held his hands under again. And again. After the third time he shut the water off, wiped the excess from his face, and looked in the mirror.

He had to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. In his dreams he could never see himself. He knew he was there but he never saw his reflection in a mirror or window or anything. He had to know if this was real.

He looked up and saw a man’s face. Seemingly his own he stared at his reflection just to be sure. Looking into the mirror he saw his tan skin, the sharp angled chin and square nose he always hated, his graying hair, the beginnings of beard he let grow, and his steely blue eyes. He also saw a few wrinkles he had been neglecting to acknowledge before. But sure enough the face that stared back was his.

“At least I’m still me.”

Once the words left his mouth he felt this pang of déjà vu. But this was different.

It wasn’t just the words that brought on that feeing. It wasn’t where he stood in or staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. It was the fear that ran through his body; sending shivers up his spine. It was the sense of dread and the desire to stay here for fear of the monsters on the other side of the door. It was that damn ink machine.

You should’ve paid attention.

The thought sent another shudder of fear through his body.

That didn’t make any sense. Pay attention to what? Wasn’t he doing that anyway trying to get out of here? He figured out how to turn on the machine, he found the axe, he figured out Sammy Lawerence’s little musical lock. Henry didn’t think there was anything he could have been missing if he wanted there to be.

~~~

He had just finished playing “Darling Little Errand Boy” to the corrupted combination of Alice Angel and the character’s original voice actress; Susie Campbell. The entire ordeal was like something straight out of a horror movie complete with an ending all audiences would have hated. He listened and did what she asked but it wasn’t enough. She wanted, needed, the incarnation of Boris the Wolf that had stuck by him since almost the beginning. And like an idiot he fell prey to her fool’s errand; leaving her to do her dirty work. Susie turned Boris into a hulking monstrosity just like her. Then, as if everything else wasn’t enough, she siced the corruption, her little pet project, on Henry.

Fighting his friend was the hardest thing he had to do since coming here.

Killing Boris was even worse.

Tears began to fall down his cheek.

Henry reached for the tape recorder that lay on the ground next to him and pressed the record button. He had to get this message out to whoever might be there. Whoever might be listening. Everything he was forced to endure was so horrible he just had to get it off his chest. First he talked about Boris. It was so fresh on his mind that it was almost impossible to not talk about it.

“Linda I miss you and I love you so much.”

He tried to stop himself but he still choked on the words and he recorded the short message to his wife. Linda was the best thing that ever happened to him. He hated that he couldn’t embrace her, hold her close, in that moment. He was so afraid and so helpless. He continued speaking into the tape recorder; frantically trying to get his message across.

“If anyone hears this, if you make it out, don’t ever return because the Ink Demon will find you.”

That’s one big “if” don’t you think? he said to himself.

He clicked the stop button and set the tape recorder down with shaky hands. At least he finished before the demon, or any of the others, found out. Henry knew if anyone else somehow made their way here, into the loop, they wouldn’t make it back out. Allison, Thomas, and The Lost Ones were proof enough of that. But he had to hold onto the hope. The hope that someone might find the tape. The hope that someone might come to his rescue. The hope that he would make it out somehow.

“Joey, Joey, Joey,” he said aloud instantly grateful he turned the tape off when he did. Despite everything else he had already said on the tapes his next few words seemed far more along the lines of a rambling crazy person than anything else.

“Human sacrifice is a new low; even for you. But sacrificing yourself, your soul, is something else entirely.”

Years ago a question had begun to rattle around in his brain after he dedicated a few too many years at his desk here in the studio. Being back here the old question made its rounds once again. The question was something most of the employees seemed to feel as well. Despite being a co-founder of the studio and co-creator of the characters it was one of the few things Henry Stein seemed to have in common with the others. The lower ladder employees like Thomas Connor and Wally Franks. No one under Joey felt like they had a voice in anything let alone the areas they were supposed to be in charge of. There was a part of Henry that was happy that he found the empty tape but another part of him hated it.

Being back in the studio that question rose back up in the deep corners of his mind.

How do you speak when you feel outspoken?

You do what any sane person would. Write those thoughts down in a notebook that no one would see. Keep a hidden diary or write in invisible ink. Or in Henry’s case you do both. The only difference was that Henry didn’t write in a notebook. Hell, he didn’t even write on paper.

You’re writing on the walls, old man. Just like a crazy person in the movies.

But that didn’t really matter when he knew that he was the only person who would see what he wrote.

And now, thanks to the corrupted inky soul of Allison Connor, he could see the messages some other Henry had left for him to find. With the inkified versions of Allison and Thomas at his side he made his way back through the studio.

~~~

The items from the departments used as a shrine. The coffins and pentagrams. The living demonic beast made of ink. The corrupted shell of Sammy Lawrence. The murderous, obsessive, version of Susie. The constant sense of déjà vu. It all made so much sense now. Bendy wasn’t evil and neither were any of the characters. Or even the ink machine for that matter. True evil was much more terrifying than fictional characters come to life.

And that evil was none other than Joey Drew.

Joey made a pact with the devil and this time it wasn’t Bendy. This time around he wasn’t sacrificing his time, energy, and hope for a life outside his work. Joey sacrificed everyone who helped him to make his dream come true. He killed his friends and co-workers; people he had considered family at one point. Henry was certain that Sammy was the first to go. He had so many fights with Joey it was a miracle either of them got anything done. It made sense in a sick, twisted, way. The last to go was probably poor old Wally. And none of them knew what was coming for them. None of them knew what was really going on.

All except for Henry.

Henry was the only one who knew.

And Henry knew that, his once best friend, Joey knew he had figured it out. Joey’s deepest darkest secret that was hiding in the shadows of the studio. It wasn’t the ink machine like Henry had originally thought so many cycles ago and like he had initially thought at the start of this cycle as well. But Joey’s real secret was the darkness that hid inside the man himself. The real secret to his success, the method to his madness, was deep within the obscurity of his ambition. The blood, and ink stained, hands of Joey Drew would never be clean and he wouldn’t have had it any other way. That was the secret. The secret that kept the studio afloat amidst all of the obvious financial issues; the multiple shut off notices, all the past due letters, and so many threats of eviction. The secret Joey kept buried for all these years.

A secret only Henry, and Joey of course, knew.

Remember when it was just us, Joey? Before you turned your back on your love for characters, creating, art and life itself. You used to be happy, kind, and full of wonderful dreams.

I miss the old you.

Henry thought about all of this as he stared at the ceiling of Joey’s apartment. He didn’t want to get up and walk over to who would ultimately be standing in the kitchen. He shook the dread off and got up anyway.

Walking through the short hallway Henry took in the atmosphere of the place. It had a familiar feeling but by now he understood what that meant. He had been here before. How many times he was highly uncertain. He passed by a table with a few drawings on it. The drawings didn’t surprise him. He was in Joey’s place and they were Joey’s characters after all. The drawings were of the massive, nightmarish, demonic entity that was both Bendy and Joey which he had encountered countless times before. Looking closely at the drawings he realized that they were short storyboarded ideas of that entity winning. Killing and eating Henry.

Then Henry saw the man who stood at the kitchen with his back to him.

A very familiar looking wheelchair sat next to the kitchen counter behind the man. Henry walked over to him knowing that it was what he had to do. He didn’t have to see the man to know that he was a man who walked like Joey. Who talked like Joey. Who looked like Joey. Who wove words like Joey. Who spoke of dreams like Joey. But it couldn’t be him, could it? That man seemed far too like the old Joey. The one who loved his work, who cared for his friends, and who enjoyed life. The Joey Drew who was a bit of an eccentric but who didn’t have any murderous secrets to hide.

But he knew who that man was before he even turned around.

“Didn’t expect you back so soon,” he said.

That was the voice of the Joey Drew he remembered from all those years ago.

Henry Stein also remembered another Joey. In his mind’s eye, through multiple flashbacks all layered on top of one another, he saw him in the same way as this Joey he was looking at now; cooling leaning against the kitchen counter. The other Joey wasn’t anything like this one or even the real one Henry knew in life. That Joey was cold, callous, and downright evil. As evil as the living, breathing, demonic corruption of their brainchild. No matter how many times Henry would wake up back here he dreaded walking out and seeing that Joey. He much preferred the one before him. And he missed the version he knew. The one that was larger than life, always dreaming, with an infectious energy despite what or how he truly felt inside. That Joey cared. The Joey loved what he did. That Joey smiled and laughed and joked and took his time despite knowing his little cartoon would be loved by millions. That was the real life Joey Drew.

The genuine article.

Well he was before his ambitions, his dreams, corrupted him into someone he never wanted to be.

Henry turned away from this Joey, whoever he was, and walked towards the door.

Some other Henry had enough sense to hide his own secrets for the next ones to find. How? This Henry didn’t know. He wasn’t like that version of himself. He didn’t have any secrets. And he definitely wasn’t like his old pal Joey; a man made of many secrets. He sighed and thought about what could’ve driven his once good friend to do something so heinous. Keeping it a secret he understood.

A secret that was now kept by the dead. And by the aging animator held prisoner in a loop.

He pushed open the door and saw what was waiting on the other side. The inner hallway to the front of the studio and the exit right behind; forever taunting him. And just like so many times before he emerged knowing what he had to do. Knowing he had done it before. Knowing he would, and always will, ultimately fail.

Again.

And again.

A never ending cycle of which he would never escape no matter how hard, or how many times, he tried. Poor Allison Connor. She told him, time and again, that he was the only one who could escape. Of course she said all this without knowing about the loop. And Henry didn’t have the heart to tell her. If he remembered the next time he saw her. If he could make it that far into the loop before “dying” and being forced to restart.

Henry clutched the letter in his trembling hand and read, and then re-read, the signature at the bottom.

Joey Drew.

#so here's this i guess #it totally sucks but whatever #fanfiction #fanfic #bendy and the ink machine #batim #batim fanfic #batim fic #henry stein #batim henry #my writing #ageekwrites #idk what else to tag this with #honestly i feel like this is unfinished and just a recap of the game and i hate it #but here i am #posting this

4 notes · View notes

bestmarvelmate · 8 years ago

Text

Comfort (Bucky x Reader)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,838

Genre: Comfort/Fluff

Warning(s): None (I think)

Summary: On her way back to the Tower the reader is involved in a car crash that puts them in the hospital. The crash brings up some unhappy memories from the reader’s past, but luckily Bucky is there to comfort you and bring you your favorite flowers and candy. (If you don't like candy/flowers just pretend you do for the sake of the story).

A/N: Prompt adapted from an idea by Tealsong from Wattpad. So, this is my first one-shot ever. Sorry if it's shitty. I'll work on that. I was up till two in the morning last night finishing it (oops). I kinda lost track of time. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Also, requests are open!

(Y/N) = Your Name

(Y/F/C) = Your Favorite Candy

(Y/S/C) = Your Skin Color

“Miss (Y/N),” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said over the speakers in your car.

Tony had hooked her up because you liked to have Siri read your texts out to you whenever you were driving so you didn't have to take your hands off the wheel. When Tony learned about that he offered (insisted) to put F.R.I.D.A.Y into your phone so she could read them for you instead. For some unknown reason to you, Tony had a grudge against anything Apple related. When you asked him about it he merely shrugged it off and said it was a long story.

“Yes, F.R.I.D.A.Y?” You addressed the A.I.

“You have a text from ShareBear. Would you like me to read it for you?”

You grinned at your contact name for Sharon. “Yes please.”

“Miss Carter wrote: ‘Me along with the rest of the team excluding you and Barnes have been called away for a mission and won't be back for a few days.’ She then followed it with a winky emoticon.” F.R.I.D.A.Y informed you.

You had told Sharon about your small (big) crush on Bucky and ever since then, she had been trying to get you two together.

“Please text her back: ‘You can take that winky emoji and shove it where the sun don't shine.’”

“Yes, Miss (Y/N).”

A few minutes passed before F.R.I.D.A.Y read back Sharon’s reply, which more or less called you a wuss for not growing a pair and asking Bucky out. You told F.R.I.D.A.Y to reply with: ‘I'm not having this discussion with you again. Be safe.’ Sharon said: ‘Will do.’ and you thanked F.R.I.D.A.Y for her assistance.

You continued driving down Broadway and slowed to a stop at a red light. You were making the long drive from Manhattan to downtown New York where the Avengers’ tower was. The drive should technically only take about thirty minutes, but let's be honest, this is New York. You turned on the radio and listened to the news report of the latest Avengers success story.

“New York’s famed superhero team the Avengers stopped a bank robbery turned hostage situation late yesterday afternoon,” the radio personality began. “A group consisting of Captain America, Bucky Barnes, and Agent 13 arrived at the scene mere minutes after the robbery was called in. Bucky Barnes, formerly known as the assassin the Winter Soldier, played a key role in the rescue of all fifteen hostages. Barnes was able to negotiate the robbers into releasing the civilians held inside. One of the hostages personally thanked Barnes before she was taken to the hospital saying, ‘Without him, I would not have been able to go home to my two kids tonight.’”

You smile at what the woman said. Bucky had been working incredibly hard to get back on the good side of not only the people of America but also the world. HYDRA’s reach had been far and the Winter Soldier’s hit list long, but with your help and support from the rest of the Avengers, Bucky was slowly making his way back into the public's good eye.

The light turned green and you eased onto the gas. You were halfway through the intersection when something slammed into you from the passenger side. Your head cracked against the window and the airbags deployed. There was a high pitched ringing in your ears and distant screaming. Arms wrapped under your arms and tugged you out of the car. The whoop of an ambulance pierced through the incessant ringing before you slipped into unconsciousness.

Bucky was lifting weights in the training room when he got the call. F.R.I.D.A.Y had informed him that he had received a call from the hospital telling him that (Y/N) had been t-boned on her way back to the Tower. He hopped onto his motorcycle and made it to the hospital in record time (for New York).

Once parked Bucky quickly asked the nurse at the front desk what room you were in and took the stairs two at a time. When he made it to your room he stopped at the door. A doctor stood by your side with a clipboard in his hands.

“Doctor?” Bucky spoke up.

“Can I help you?” the older man asked. (Haha “older”).

“I'm her emergency contact,” He nodded his head to you. “What's wrong with her?”

“Car accident, but I'm sure you already knew that.”

“Is she going to be okay?” Bucky asked fearfully, creeping into the room a little more.

“She should be. Currently, we have her in a medically induced coma just for the next twenty-four hours. She has a concussion and a few cracked ribs, but she's in pretty good shape for being t-boned.”

Bucky looked past the doctor to where you laid in the sterile hospital bed.

“I'll leave you to your visit. Though she won't be too talkative.” the doctor patted Bucky on the shoulder on his way out.

A mix of emotions flooded through him at the sight of you hooked up to all of the machines. If it weren't for the monitors steady beep and the doctor telling him that you were in a medically induced coma Bucky could have sworn you were dead.

Anger boiled up in him at the thought that some stupid, distracted driver did this to you. Someone he held so near and dear to him. Bucky’s hands clenched into fists as he fought back the feeling he had now become familiar with as the Winter Soldier trying to worm his way back to the surface. He tended to try and reappear whenever Bucky became angry.

It pained Bucky to no end to see you hooked up to the machines. Bucky slowly approached your side and pulled one of the chairs in the room closer to your bed. He sat and just watched you, taking in the butterfly band-aid on a cut above your left eyebrow, and the slight bruising he could make out on your left arm from the impact you made with the car door.

Bucky lost track of time as he sat by your side, just watching you, listening to the incessant beeping of the monitors, rubbing circles on the back of your (Y/S/C) hand with his flesh thumb.

“Excuse me, sir?” A woman's voice drew Bucky out of his mindless thinking. Bucky looked up to see a nurse. “I'm sorry, you have to go, visiting hours are over.”

Bucky looked at you with a pained expression and reluctantly stood from your side. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead and whispered in your ear that he would see you tomorrow.

On his way out Bucky was tempted to turn around here track down and beat the shit out of the person who had put you in here. It wouldn't be too hard of a task for an ex-assassin. However, as soon as the thought entered his mind he saw a flash of your disappointed face. If he did something to the person who had hurt you he would be no better than the man he had been trying to fight for the past seventy years, and all your and his hard work to get him on the good side of the government and the public would have been for nothing. With a calming breath, Bucky continued to leave.

The following morning Bucky got up at the crack of dawn so he could be at the hospital as soon as visiting hours began. He had a quick breakfast and informed the rest of the team about what was going on. They were all incredibly worried, but Bucky assured them that you were fine and he was going to spend the day with you at the hospital and would keep them posted if anything changed.

On his ride over to the hospital, Bucky stopped by a little flower shop run by an old woman. He chose a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a box of your favorite candy for you to eat when you woke up. Once Bucky arrived at the hospital he stayed by your side all day as nurses and doctors came in and out to check on you. On her way out, one of the nurses informed him that you should be waking up from your coma in the next few hours. Bucky watched the clock on the wall tick away nervously.

You were driving down the lamp lit streets of New York. Your brother sat next to you in the backseat, while your dad was in the passenger seat up front with your mom, who was driving. You were taunting your brother about his complete and utter failure to beat you at the game of bowling you played tonight, especially after all the trash talk he said about how he would wipe the dirty, questionably sticky, bowling alley floors with you.

You playfully booped him on the nose and he swatted your hand away. A blinding light illuminated the car and you heard your mom mutter “What in the world?” under her breath. The light continued to get brighter and brighter and a painfully familiar feeling of dread and deja vu descended upon you.

You felt a hand gripping your shoulder painfully and shaking you. You looked to where your brother had been sitting next to you and to your surprise you instead saw Bucky. His lips were moving frantically as you saw him repeat your name over and over but never heard the sound leave his lips. However, the sound of a car horn being repeatedly blown got closer as the white light consumed everything around you.

You woke with a gasp, tears streaming down your face as you tremble violently. Bucky was gently wiping away your tears with his flesh hand, the metal one was gripping your right hand hard.

“Hey, hey,” Bucky soothed. “You're okay, you're okay. I'm right here.”

You let out a sob as he carefully pulled you against him in a hug, minding your fractured ribs.

“Shh, Doll,” Bucky rubbed your back gently as he whispered in your ear. “You're safe. I'll keep you safe.”

Once your tears began to slow Bucky pulled away from you, albeit reluctantly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You hesitated a moment before nodding. “I was dreaming about the accident.” You said quietly.

He knew of the one you were talking about. Bucky had learned about how to had lost your family early on in your relationship. He had been walking aimlessly around the Tower after another one of his nightly bouts with his nightmarish memories. He was on his way back to his room from the roof where he had gone to clear his head with some fresh air (or as fresh as New York could offer) when he heard your whimpering from in your room. He hesitated for a moment before slipping into your room with the silence that only an ex-assassin could possess.

In the dim light that streamed through your curtains from the city that never sleeps, Bucky could see the shine of tears on your cheeks. He carefully approached your side and placed a hesitant hand on your head. Bucky slowly brushed your hair back, continuing the relaxing movement while whispering calming words to you. Your cries died down to soft mewls and then ceased altogether as you fell back into a deep sleep.

Bucky stayed by your side all night, calming you when you began to have nightmares again. It felt nice to him, a comforting change, him helping you instead of the other way around like it usually was.

In the morning you had woken up to Bucky sleeping on your floor and had nearly stepped on his head when you got out of bed. You had carefully placed a blanket on him, not wanting to wake him for he looked so at peace, which was rare for him.

You went to the kitchen and we're eating a bowl of cereal when Bucky had stumbled in. You smiled at him, a silent thank you for last night and he returned your smile with a small, but kind, grin of his own.

“That's over now, (Y/N).” Bucky purred, bringing you out of your memory. “Are you okay?”

You nodded before asking, “So, what exactly happened?”

“You were in a car accident. I don't know all the details except you were t-boned by a distracted driver.”

“How long have I been out?”

“About two days. The doctors had you in a medically induced coma for twenty-four hours.” Bucky said.

You tried to sit up and get into a more comfortable position, but when you did pain shot through your chest and you let out a hiss of pain. Bucky’s hand shot out to steady you.

“Careful,” He warned. “You have a few fractured ribs and a concussion.”

“Yeah,” you puffed out. “I guessed that much.”

You took in a labored breath that caught in your throat as something behind Bucky caught your attention.

“Are those (Y/F/C)?” you asked hopefully.

“Oh,” Bucky turned around and picked the candy package up. “You mean these?”

You nodded quickly.

“I got these for me. Ya know, ‘cause I've been sittin’ by your side all day, and I do think I'm famished.”

With all mischievous gleam in his eye, Bucky slowly tore the packaging open, making eye contact with you the entire time.

You glared at him. “James Buchanan Barnes don't you dare.”

“Dare to do what?” he all said innocently, before popping a piece of the candy into his mouth, chewed slowly, and deliberately swallowed. “Mmmm, delicious.”

You let out a strangled gasp and lunged at him the best you could with your injuries. Bucky pulled back just out of your limited reach. You sat back and crossed your arms over your chest, a pout formed on your face. Bucky had a shit-eating-grin on his face as he watched you sulk.

“Come on, Buck,” you whined, “Please!”

“Alright,” Bucky agreed. “But, you have let me feed it to you seeing that you're hurt and all.”

You opened your mouth to argue but Bucky waved the candy around, so you sighed in acceptance. You were expecting Bucky to hand feed you the candy, what you weren't expecting was for him to place a piece in his mouth and lean his face towards yours. Your eyes widened in surprise at his sudden closeness and the gesture. However, you quickly recovered your wits. Two could play at that game. With a devilish smirk and an evil glint in your eye, you promptly leaned forward and took the candy out of Bucky’s mouth. His eyes widened to twice their normal size.

You hummed in delight as you happily chewed your treat. “You're right Buck, these are delicious.”

“Y-Yeah, they are.” Bucky pulled away from you flustered, avoiding your eyes.

You grinned at Bucky’s blush and leaned towards him. “Buck.”

“Hmm?” Bucky was still avoiding your eyes.

“Bucky.” you said with more force, causing him to finally look at you again.

Bucky’s blush darkened at your proximity, but he leaned closer to you too.

“I like you, Buck.” you managed to whisper out.

“I like you too, (Y/N),” Bucky said, leaning closer.

You met him halfway and your lips brushed against each other's for half a second before you were interrupted by the hospital room door bursting open, causing you both to jerk away from each other.

Sharon ran to your side and gripped your hand tightly. “(Y/N), are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm fine.”

“Are you sure? Where does it hurt? Have they been treating you well? If they haven't I swear to God I will make them pay. Where's that punk-ass who hit you? I'd like to teach them a lesson!” Sharon rambled on.

“Sharon!” you cut her off. “I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?” she looked you in the eyes.

“Yes. I'm sure.”

Sharon stepped away from your side to allow the other Avengers to see you. You learned that they finished their mission double-time when they had heard about your accident from Bucky. They told you about the mission until a nurse ushered them all out of your room so she could check up on you and so you could get some rest.

Bucky unwillingly go of your hand (that he had been holding onto the entire time the Avengers had been giving you the rundown) and left you to rest, glancing over his shoulder reluctantly. Sharon was the last to leave and she gave you a knowing look and made a vulgar hand gesture. You flipped her off before she closed the door.

The nurse spoke up, “Those are some good friends you got there.”

“I know.” you said with a satisfied grin.

67 notes · View notes