#key & peele full episodes
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
ustrumpnews · 1 month ago
Text
youtube
9 notes · View notes
prankvids · 1 year ago
Text
The Most Gullible Prison Guard Ever - Key & Peele
https://PrankVids.com the,most,gullible,Key & Peele,Key and Peele,Jordan Peele,Keegan-Michael Key,keey & peele,Key & Peele full episodes,key and peele show,kay and peele,prison guard,gullible,prison break,prison,jail,bust,sketch comedy,funny,funny video,comedy videos,funny jokes,funny clips,key and peele prison guard,jailbreak,
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
3 notes · View notes
sadhorsegirl · 2 years ago
Text
one of the coolest changes for the sake of adaptation to come out of s1 of wot on prime was the decision to completely reverse the dynamic of moiraine and siuan's fuck hut reunion in episode 6 from the scene that it clearly pulls the most from in the books aka siuan and moiraine's first meeting in book 2. book spoilers obvi but for the uninitiated when moiraine and siuan finally reunite in the books siuan is kind of at the end of her rope and having some pretty major doubts that moiraine (in a low-key dispassionate way on the surface) rejects. in the show, clearly the opposite of this happens -- we see moiraine as the one full of doubts while siuan reassures her that they are on the right path. and like.
1) the sheer ROMANCE of having them be so intertwined emotionally that it feels true to the characters that this dynamic might reverse depending on what point in time we see them interacting. they are truly different sides of the same coin and it would only make sense for them to periodically have to comfort and reassure each other as the years wear on without much clear success. like my brain literally starts to vibrate whenever i think about how hopeful they are at the start of new spring without any idea of how long it's going to take lmao!
2) the way that the show uses the reversal to peel back some of moiraine's layers and show a greater sense of vulnerability than she is generally allowed in canon. in the books her attitude towards reassuring siuan kind of leans further into her cold chess player mode, like "please don't interrupt my super cool speedrun towards saving the world and my possible suicide mission to achieve it with ur attempts at emotional entanglement." while in the show, there is still a certain element of firm assuredness on siuan's part, but the entire scene reads much warmer and shows the dedication at the core of their relationship+the reason for their commitment to the mission in the first place much more clearly.
tldr: the switch feels super natural (no cw actors were hurt in the making of this post) and demonstrates a really solid instinct for finding interesting ways to change the text thru adaptation rather than just changing things for the sake of it lmao
102 notes · View notes
prettyflyshyguy · 1 year ago
Note
Hello, I appreciate you exploring your interests and I'm interested to hear more about the Live Free and Twihard SPN AU
HI. I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS. So does @snackhouse and we've been screaming at each other about this.
She came up with the name "Live Free or Twiharder"
We just really wanted to see the episode go further and double down more mostly.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Anyway gonna dump post some stuff from our conversations under the cut!! We've been bouncing back and forth a lot of ideas, writing snippets, and lamenting on how we wish he had better teeth.
Y'know girl talk things. "I wish this man had really fucked up teeth"
"Yeah"
This is a mix of ideas and comments from the two of us, so full credit goes to Snack for being a local legend and playing handball with me with our shared blorbo. Worse Dean Winchester.
We wanted Sam to have his soul, because the angst potential goes up 200% and we're all here for that. Instead of Sam watching Dean get turned, he gets there too late, and blames himself for what happened.
He's full nihilism mode, genuinely thinks this is the end, Sam tries to explain that there's a cure but Dean's too stubborn and too deep in the downward spiral to really take it in. He has self sacrificial tendencies and just immediately decides to take the fall.
"Dean please just listen to me for once."
"Look at me man, I'm a monster."
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Our man is not coping.
Tumblr media
So we're both like OK what if it takes longer to heal him. What if he's stuck for a bit longer. Ya gotta hang in a few more days. So then maybe he runs into Lisa, or she reaches out to Sam. She loves this man and after he has the worlds most bizarre and erratic behavior she's going to be really fucking worried, especially since he was aggressive out of seemingly nowhere. She's terrified of him AND for him.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
We're cooking so hard the kitchen is on fire.
Tumblr media
We are making an environment that is so toxic.
Tumblr media
Snack's been cooking hard on how bad can the cure possibly be.
Tumblr media
_
Everything was quickly becoming too much. Every sound, smell and sight was bombarding his brain like a 18 wheeler hitting a squirrel.
“My mouth tastes like blood and creepy-dude sweat.” Dean grunted, stepping towards the bathroom.
It was a bullshit excuse and they both knew it, but Dean didn’t think he could make it another minute standing so close to his brother. Stepping into the cramped bathroom he took a second to breathe in a space where he couldn’t hear all of Sam’s veins pulsing with blood, Dean’s gaze drifted towards the mirror.
I wonder if I’ll even recognize myself by the end of this…
He already knew what he was going to find, it’s not like he couldn’t feel them.
Gently peeling back his lips, Dean struggled against the waves of nausea that spilled over him at the sight. Feeling the fangs where there was different from actually seeing them. Now there wasn’t any doubt as what he was now.
Lightly poking the exposed tip of the fang, Dean could feel how sharp it was. Moving his fingertip upward, he slightly pushed the gum above the protrusion, pushing the tip of the fang out like massaging a cat’s foot to see its claws.
The other needle-like teeth seemed to be eager to join their friend, as the rest of the fangs slid from their slits in Dean’s mouth. He wrenched his hand back in horror. He could feel the sharp new additions sliding over his normal teeth. Like the bars of a cage they sealed away any signs of humanity he saw in the mirror. In a matter of seconds he found himself grasping the toilet bowl for purchase has he emptied his stomach.
-
^That's a Snackhouse special right there
Tumblr media
-
His shaking hands rattled the keys, clanging in his ears. It made him wince. Pressing his eyes closed he felt for the lock and fumbled for a few agonising seconds in the searing light of the hotel corridor before he heard the familiar clack of the latch sliding open. Stumbling inside, he was relieved to find the interior of their room cold and dark.
“Dean?”
Sam’s familiar voice called out from the table.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
Dean groaned as he lurched towards the kitchen, eyes fixed on the floor as it began to shift and spin. Waves of nausea had flowed through him all night, rolling through his body, shifting from his stomach to his chest. He crossed by the beds, leaning on them for support.
“... You ok?”
He stiffened as the feeling rippled through him.
“I’m good, Sammy.”
He heard his brother start to speak again, but stopped. Thank god. He needed a beer or two. Or three. And a nice dark corner, as far away from the table, and the windows, and the noise from the upstairs room, and the opposite corridor room. And the pipes. And the heartbeats.
He could hear two of them as he leaned on the wall, breathing heavily as he recovered from the growing ill sensation in his abdomen. His back was to the table but that didn’t stop him sensing and feeling and hearing. Every. Pump. One heartbeat was significantly faster than the other. Samuel must’ve gotten back early, he noted. He’d had moments of nervous spikes, but generally was taking things well, as expected. Sam on the other hand…
He grunted as he shuffled infront of the fridge and yanked the door open. The hinges whined and creaked, spiking the building throbbing pain in his head. Staring at the contents in dismay, he assessed the rations.
One beer, three cans of soda, two mason jars of cows blood. Both were almost full.
Scrunching his face in disappointment, he reached for the beer. He pressed himself up against the kitchen bench, gently nudging the fridge door closed with his right foot. It glided shut with another sharp and piercing squeal. He growled at it in response as he twisted the bottle cap open.
“I uh… accidentally… ran into Lisa just now and–”
He paused to take a swig of beer. The cold sensation was refreshing, but the taste was stale, and wrong. He gagged on the mouthful before forcing a swallow.
“Augh, what the hell.”
He brought the bottle up to examine the label. He’d had it before and it’d tasted fine then. Frowning, he turned his focus to the table.
“Hey did you–”
Sam was staring at him. He was fiddling with a bottle of the same beer, empty, in front of him. Samuel was not with him. Dean’s heart sank as the sounds of the water pipes, the street, the tv upstairs all began to fade out. She was sitting opposite to Sam, bottle in hand. She looked terrified, worried, confused. She was staring at him the same way she stared into his eyes when he was in her room, though she seemed to recoil in her seat slightly when he returned her gaze.
“Uhm, the uh, the eye thing is to be expected.”
Sam’s voice was a whisper but Dean heard it as if he was standing a foot away. His mind jumped to the nest. In the gloom, when the light caught their eyes, it reflected, like a deer when the car headlights scanned the countryside.
Or like a wolf.
Oh god.
“I gotta go.”
He barely blurted out the words, tossing the bottle of beer into the sink as he beelined for the bathroom door. Past the table. Past the sound. The unbearable, overpowering sound.
“Dean wait!”
Slamming the door behind him, he cursed when he remembered there was no locking latch. Pressing his weight into it, he felt the door handle turn gently. He pushed back against it, digging the heels of his boots into the grooves of the tiled floor as he slowly slid down to sit at its base, panting. The bathroom was his escape, the walls dampened the sound, he could turn the tap on to create white noise. The shower was the only time he felt safe. The drowning sound of the water droplets blocked everything else in the world out.
He could hear the thumping behind the door. Two channels in parallel, overlapping. The beating, beating, beating, beating, beating.
-
Creaking the door open just enough to peer out, he sighed in relief when he saw the hotel room was empty again. Sam was standing near the door, the lamp on the table turned off. He turned around and began to walk back towards the table, hitting the corner of one of the beds in the process. Dean would have laughed, if it had been any other day.
It suddenly occurred to Dean that it was dark. It was late, the blinds were down, and all the lights had been turned off. He could see everything as clearly as if it was a normal, overcast day. Sam was clearly struggling in comparison, as he slowly walked holding his arms out to avoid crashing into another obstacle. Once he had made it to the chair, he sat down and looked in the direction of the bathroom, though Dean could see he wasn’t exactly sure where to look.
“You can come out now, Dean. She’s gone.”
He could have told Sam that.
“The hell’d you let her in here for in the first place Sam!”
He gingerly took a few steps out of the comfort of the bathroom. The low thrum of Sam’s heartbeat was noticeable, but tolerable.
“She was owed an explanation, Dean. She reached out to me, practically demanded and honestly, she deserves to know what's going on.”
Sam was staring at him now, with that stupid puppy dog face he always used to get people to listen to him. Typical emotional bullshit.
“I almost bit her, Sam. I came so close and I–”
“I would have stopped you.”
“Would you have?”
Sam was silent. Grinding his jaw slightly, he breathed out and looked back towards the door.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Look, it's not your fault.”
He once again reached for the fridge door, pulling it open despite the creaks and squeals in protest.
“Augh, god. Fuck.”
“What’s wrong with your arm?” Dean glanced over at Sam, then down to his bandaged forearm. The white gauze was just visible underneath the edge of his rolled up sleeve as he reached into the fridge. The light bathed it in a sickening glow, the spots of red poking through were nearly impossible to hide.
“Nothing.” he responded curtly, slamming the door closed and shutting off the light.
-
^That's a Shy 4AM special for you. You ever open a fridge door and flashbang yourself in the hotel room? (Sorry I only have 5 jokes and they're all in constant rotation with a different skin like a videogame gun)
What you're all here for though, is TEETH TEETH TEETH TEETH
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Stares lomgingly at blood bag" nice
Anyway we started talking about the x files LMFAO but here's the most and best of what we've cooked together so far; we've had a lot of fun.
Tumblr media
14 notes · View notes
bengiyo · 2 years ago
Text
The Novelist (2018) Ep 6 (Finale) Stray Thoughts
Last time, Kijima committed to the asshole bit when Haruhiko confronted him about lying, and they had an intense but uncomfortable sexual encounter. Kijima played himself and panicked after Haruhiko left upset. Later, Haruhiko spoke with Kido about Kijima and then bullied the key out of him. Now he’s running.
Last Episode: The End of Desire and Reason
Love when a show is legible. I suspected immediately that all of this started because Kijima was bored. Knowing that he was battling writer’s block explains why he was so touched by Kuzumi saying he liked his writing.
Oh, whoa, this just went to an especially dark and troubling place.
This man typed that entire letter with T9? Nothing displays the age gap more than that.
I really love the way Japanese cinema appreciates space and the audience’s ability to remember space. Holding the shot looking at the porch as Kuzumi runs back and forth in and out of the frame frantically before collapsing in the middle of the frame is just so excellent. Any other dramatic tradition would have used more than a dozen cuts for this.
I’m glad Kijima hadn’t left yet, because he gets to continue to be mild in response to Kuzumi’s frantic energy.
He really asked for a new novel with total earnestness.
Oh, Kijima is crying now. Takezai Terunosuke is really fantastic.
Kijima’s writer’s block is sometimes hard for me to watch. I was an editor for two years and worked with a lot of writers. Keeping them motivated and breaking them through their own blocks was not always easy, and it could be ugly.
“Can you tell me more about yourself? I want to know you better.” may be one of the most romantic things I’ve seen from Japan in a long time, and that just raised the entire show a full point for me.
Hey, that was actually a really great kiss, no caveats about Japan.
How fascinating. For all the raunchy porn-grade sex we’ve seen in show, we only see the aftermath of their first mutual encounter where they apparently did it six times?? Goddamn. I like the choice to focus on their tenderness.
Oh, I just knew Kijima was going to leave before he woke up. I get it. He has to face himself in his writing alone.
It feels like it’s been years! Omg
Final Verdict: 9, Highly Recommended. I am glad @lurkingshan and @waitmyturtles poked me to finally watch this show. What started out as a twisted exploration of sexual desire peels back to reveal a deeply-lonely man and the low-key unhinged guy who becomes obsessed with him. Their dynamic was a little twisted, and I am absolutely fascinated that there are four more installments for this. As expected, this show couldn’t show us the mutual encounter between these two because it would have been too much for TV. Instead, this show was able to hit us with all sorts of raunchy or improper depictions of sex on screen. That in itself is a not-so-subtle commentary about what can and can’t be shown. This was an absolutely fascinating show that often made me uncomfortable, but compelled me to return to it.
28 notes · View notes
whipplefilter · 1 year ago
Text
NASCAR: Full Speed
It's Daytona weekend! Which naturally means it's time to rain for 48 hours in Daytona, because heaven forbid we forget the wrath of rain delays. But at least the storm cell stretched clear to Mexico City, so there were really no doubts. We've now watched the entire NASCAR Netflix documentary series (five 1-hour episodes).
I'd heard that it was "good" and "didn't shy away from things"--and this from people who know a lot about the "things," as long-time NASCAR journalists. I'd also heard that it was a huge step up from NASCAR's various made-for-TV documentaries.
Was it good?
It was entertaining! It was good at selecting a set of narratives to follow out of the sprawl of all that could be, and not trying to overburden the five episodes with too much. It picks up right before the 2023 playoffs, and primarily follows Denny as driver+co-owner of 23XI, 23XI, and a selection of the other playoff drivers (namely those who could be considered "up-and-coming" and those who make it to the Round of 8). Some might say "too much Denny" but they found a narrative thread and followed it, and I think it was a smart use of the space they had to tell a story.
Was it a huge step up from NASCAR's various made-for-TV documentaries?
I mean, from our literal "we made this so we'd have rain delay footage to roll" pieces? ...Yes???? But I'd say it's about at the level of Dirt: The Last Great American Sport. Sure, Dirt isn't specifically NASCAR-affiliated, but it's of the genre. It's peer programming. And I say this having enjoyed Dirt! But I don't necessarily think that either of these programs would be desirable watch material for people who weren't already in this foxhole, which I think NASCAR was hoping it would be (i.e. to follow in the footsteps of F1's Drive to Survive.)
Did it shy way from things?
This is where I think Full Speed loses out to Drive to Survive. I say this as an outsider to F1--I've only ever watched one race, and I only know things through racing osmosis/following racing news in general. But I think Drive to Survive was more willing to show its raw edges as part of its story: the extreme budget disparities across teams, the Red Bull/Renault sniping, contract and sponsorship bullshit, teammates absolutely hating each other, racing and its adjacency to some absolutely wild pyramid scheme/money laundering/business nonsense.
Full Speed largely kept all of that behind closed doors. The drivers sometimes levied light critique at each other, or yelled on the radio, but it wasn't anything they wouldn't also say on broadcast TV. I think part of this is the nature of the narrative they chose: By the time the playoffs roll around, the teams involved are racing with relative budget parity; their sponsorship ducks are more or less in a row; no one had open contracts; Hendrick, for once in its life, did not have its engine curse on display. And the guys who happened to make it to the end of the playoffs all tend to be more low-key guys, outside the heat of actively racing. Like, I think you'd have to do some real, hardcore documentary work to peel back and find something really raw in... Christopher Bell, William Byron, Kyle Larson, and Ryan Blaney. Even bringing Ross Chastain in was fairly softball. The series definitely does the best with Denny. Denny is nuts and organically has a lot to offer a character profile! Series highlight: Absolutely Denny Hamlin, and his opening self-introduction in Episode 1. (Even though even Denny as more to offer than was given in the docu. Are we not going to talk about the fact that he has a race car parked in his living room?)
Overall though, in terms of driver personalities and team dynamics/business, it was a bit softball. I think part of this is just my own familiarity with the material, and knowing that there's actually more out there than made it into the documentary, which made it feel less like an investigative, character/industry-probing deep dive.
But honestly? I think a huge part of it is financial. The series felt like NASCAR was afraid to get too in the weeds because they didn't want anything in the documentary that would upset current sponsors, or seed doubt in the minds of any new ones. Like it needed to present a level of cohesion and viability in order to reassure the money. And from a storytelling perspective I think that's really unfortunate.
Verdict
I think Full Speed works best as *a* version of a NASCAR story, but not *the* NASCAR story. I'd love to see the series branch out, less so chronologically (e.g. covering the 2024 playoffs), but into different facets of the storylines that make up the sport.
My ideal branch? A "tale of two cities" approach where we follow, say, Penske, cut against a backmarker team, and the parallel narratives dive into how different running a NASCAR team can look at opposite ends of the money spectrum; how the goalposts change, the culture shifts, how different the off-track lives of those involved are.
I say "Penske" mostly because they're the current defending champions, but let it be known that in my heart I'd rather we just followed Denny again, LOL.
6 notes · View notes
columbidaehypoxia · 5 months ago
Text
Rewatching Jordan Peele's twilight zone.........and uguguhu who wants to DISCUSSS 😤
I liked the new series sm as a whole I think they did a great effort at capturing aspects of TZ while doing their own thing which I definitely appreciate. Nightmare at 30,000, 6 degrees, and you may also like were an awesome direct nod to og episodes, but....
I do feel like there are some holes that could've benefited from longer episodes or just editing plot-wise. Though overall I love it it does feel lacking to me over certain things, a lot of endings felt lackluster and didn't give justice to the insensity and performance some of these ppl gave. like A Traveler was awesome but I feel like it needed a different exposition or ending, and you may also like was close but it relied a lot of being referential to previous aliens and I feel like the direct conversation w the queen was less impact full than the main character analyzing her own reasons why she would want the egg. Even 8 had the issue of being too much "tell" in something that should be illustrated and fleshed out. 8 was frustrating because I was kinda writing my own plot while watching and the way it ended was just NOT good sorry. I wanted to like that ep so bad but I feel like they circle around important key themes without actually or entirely expressing them in a way that is effective. I feel like there is too much handed to you in certain episodes and you have full arms and are sifting through some irrelevant visuals, red herrings, and unfinished plot points.
Obvi Wunderkind is a simple chefs kiss imo I think this captured old tz pretty well in the buyers remorse vibe although i wish they fleshed out the societal implifications of olivers rule. Also, Meet in the middle was v well done as well it was so nice to see that actor do a more serious roll.
Try try hit me rlly hard and in a way is my favorite among w Nightmare and 6 degrees. I think Try was a fantastic allegory for male entitlment and the way certain men are allowed to repeat and repeat the same violent and predatory behavior while hiding behind accepted societal conventions (being "charming", "unassuming white guy", "nice enough") without accountability. I loved the resolution and how even one time, her seeing him for who he is and defending herself gets him to stop, it's almost like complacency is the fuel for the predatory (!). That's an episode that would've saved my life had it come out when I was younger.
I didn't like "small town" because I feel like it missed a lot of ways that it could've been an impact full episode but it felt v rushed and poorly put together towards the end. I wanted to like the "comedian" and "ovation" (i will say the ending was good I just don't think he path taken was what it could've been) but it felt very expected.
Idkidk let's talk about it! I love if u disagree let's talk TZ!!!!!!!
1 note · View note
cruisinmississippin · 2 years ago
Text
Conan o Brien is seriously slept on as a comedian
He's mostly known for being a late night show host, n for making self deprecating jokes, but he's remarkably smart n I don't say tht lightly. He's an actual genius. I think the dude even went to Harvard, but he plays it off like he's not educated enough to comment thoughtfully about the stuff that happens all over the world.
Which is a shame, because his TV show where he interview celebs is not where he shines. It's the same thing tht happened to Trevor Noah, where over the years you see tht he loses a big chunk of his analytical n critical skills (comedically) to whatevers the topic, n it doesn't challenge nor fully utilise his immense talents.
Interestingly enough, you'd see a diff side of him in Conan Remote episodes or even the ones showing his daily interactions w his staff. That's where u go HOLY SHTTT this guy is really 1 in a million. His ability to interact, improv on the spot, with language barriers, hierarchal barriers even, just making ppl lose it, is just unmatched.
He's the Anthony Bourdain of Travel Shows but he doesn't know it. Or atleast he doesn't capitalise it to its full potential.
SNL people like Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Comedy Central ppl like Key n Peele are also MAD talented but there's a certain boundary they can't cross. Most of their stuff is written before-hand. Improvs from standups tu lein cerita ah leh prepare gak.
Throw them out into the streets, get em to talk w ppl in diff language, can they genuinely make complete strangers laugh to the point of losing it? Idk that'd be hard to pull off. Conan can though. He has his ways w people, young or old, rich or poor, women and men, educated or not, its truly insane what he can do within minutes. You're not gonna be able to be a tight ass w that dude around.
1 of these days, dude is gonna retire n the world wouldn't even truly know the depths of his hilarity. Idek if there are comedians like that any more these days from the newer generations.
I can kind pin down what makes his brand of jokes diff
- He's awkward looking n he self deprecates about it a lot just not in a low self esteemed way. He knows he's lanky n has disproportionately long torso n arms, is pasty-white, is also a Ginger, n he makes use of tht. To the fullest.
But weirdly enough, whatever he's doing or how much he does it doesn't quite cheapen it or makes it annoying. Idk how he does it. Point is, he knows he look funny in some ways.
Idk I just find it rare tht he's 1 of those very very few ppl in the world who could probably get away w casually sitting down on the pavements w just about anybody n make everybody laugh w him or at him. That's something else.
- Something about him within, tht u could tell from the way he treats his staff, n how everybody treats him tht he truly doesn't give a fck about fame or any of tht stuff as much. He's legitimately 1 of the most human of all the humans tht ever came out of the Hollywood machine. Which is fcking bonkers, because what sort of outlook or philosophy would u have to adapt to be like that anyhow? To not let it get to you n be humbler as the years go by? Fckin insane, that's what.
0 notes
fabled-fiction · 3 years ago
Text
Nosey Neighbor (Marc Spector x Reader)
Tumblr media
Summary: There’s nothing wrong with a little curiosity right? So what if you just wanted to know what EXACTLY your neighbor was up to every night during the witching hour, that totally isn’t weird.
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: Mention of blood, MoonKnight Ep.1 Spoilers (if you squint)
Part 2: Just a Gut Feeling
A/N: This is written with little to no prior knowledge about Moon Knight/Marc Spector/Steven Grant other than what was shown in the first episode. I wanted to dabble in writing for him, so this is could definitely expand into something more but as of right now it is just a fun analysis basically.
-----------------------
You were always that person, ever since you were a little kid, to remind everyone of the full rhyme.
Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.
You had a knack for noticing and looking for any and all details when it came to anything you found interesting. Your mind couldn't put down the puzzle until you knew everything you could about it, preferably to the point of solving said puzzle of course.
Which led you to your fascination with your neighbor.
The consensus on your floor was that he was an odd guy. Not only because he seemingly kept to himself, keeping his head down and only giving passing glances but more so because of the so called sketchy vibes he “gave off”. Everyone else described him as odd, weird, and someone to steer clear off. Many of them had either no interaction with him or ones they would rather forget late in the night.
You would describe him as interesting, but maybe that was because of the oh so watchful eye you had.
The first time you were drawn to him genuinely through your own experience and not through word of mouth from judgey neighbors, you were lucky enough to have the night shift at the diner you worked at. Well not so much a night shift but a graveyard shift, leading you to get home at around four or five am.
It was an odd time to get home, many people on the midnight bus were nurses or tired diner workers like yourself. There were a few people that seemingly were just getting finished with their pub crawls, as when the bus doors opened the stench of their alcohol content leaked off them and tainted the sweet dewy smell of the night you had gotten used to. Leaning your head against the condensated window with a huff, you watch the streetlights wiz by and listen to the steady breathing of those around it. It was a calm night from what you remember, nothing out of the ordinary.
That is until you got home.
The flicker of the light in your flat building's lift broke you from your post work haze. Until just then you could only focus on the ache of your feet, and the stiffening knot at the base of your back. You really had to buy new work shoes, or at least those support inserts. The arch of your foot and your back were screaming at you as you leaned against the mirrored wall. Your reflection told anyone that looked at you the story of your night, you were just a tired diner worker just getting home. As of right now you were an open book.
When the doors finally opened, and you managed to peel yourself off the wall, the hairs on the back of your neck stood. The drowsy spell of sleep was quickly washed away, and your eyes opened just a bit more as you walked fully out of the lift. The hallway lights flickered upon your entrance, seemingly announcing yourself or perhaps someone else. When the lights turned on again, you saw him.
He was standing there, quickly locking the door of his apartment. He was in a hurry, that much could be seen by the ragged state of his jacket that was probably thrown on in a panic and the fact that his shoes weren't even tied. You slowly pulled your keys out of your pocket, and maybe he hadn't noticed your entrance with the flickering lights, because the jingle of your keys certainly did.
His movements stopped, hand seemingly paused on his own keys that were jammed in his door handle.
When you finally managed to get to your own door you were standing a few inches away from him. His eyes didn't leave you as he watched you effortlessly slip your key into both the locks of your own door.
Despite what you had heard from the others, he didn't give you the heebie jeebies. Sure, his watchful eye would give the normal person the want to run but you always held the same look when watching anyone else you didn't know. The only reason you hadn't been labeled as weird was because you tended to be more subtle about it, also known as you knew when to look away.
But right now, his eyes were burning into yours when you finally dared to make eye contact.
They were deep caverns of pure emotion, pulling you in deeper and deeper. Like you were falling down a rabbit hole with no end in sight, the ever so sinking feeling of falling filling your chest as it dropped. Your hand was gripping your door handle tightly as you stared, and you swore you could have bent the door handle with the grip you had on it right now.
Maybe he felt the same impending sense of falling, because he was the first to break eye contact as he pulled his keys out of his pocket and shoved them in his pocket with a huff.
But you kept watching as he walked, his stride long and hood pulled so tightly over his head that you wondered for a minute if he would run into the lift doors. When he didn’t, you let out a small breath. But this was soon taken back in when he looked right back at you with a tilted head.
And you didn’t quite know what possessed you to do so…but you raised your hand up and waved.
The next time you saw him was the next morning. You were still in your pajamas, as you had just woken up and started your daily chores. Maybe it was what you considered morning, but in reality it was mid afternoon. You were dragging your trash behind you to the chute down the hall when the lift had opened. You paid little attention to it, as you groggily lifted the handle and struggled to toss the bag down the chute. You really should have taken this out earlier.
Just as you were about to close the chute door and readjust your hold, another hand came and gripped the red plastic handles of the bag. Looking over, you saw it was him. He gave you an awkward smile before grunting as he lifted the bag to throw it down the shoot.
Your attention was drawn to him, his face to be more specific. You had barely seen it last night, as you were too encapsulated by his eyes to notice any other features. But now up close, you got the full picture. His jawline and his tousled hair that framed that ever so concentrated brow bone. His cheeks were dusted with what seemed like dirt, and you swore there was a scrape that probably needed to be cleaned under all that grime and gunk.
“Everything alright?”
Blinking, you swallowed as he looked at you, almost worried. There was something different in his eyes this morning, they weren’t brooding or…dark. You could actually see a bit of hopeful light in them this time, not a suffocating darkness. Swallowing, you gave him a tight toothless smile. 
“Yea. Thanks for that…You must’ve run into some trouble last night eh?” You mutter as you grab your wrist.
It looked as if the wind was knocked out of him, and for a moment you see the light in his eyes flicker alongside his gripped fist.
“Yea…yes no I’m fine. Just tripped. Have a lovely evening.” It's all said in a quick mutter, as he brushes against your shoulder and quickly enters his flat.
The thought crosses your mind that maybe he was just a weird recluse. But before the seed can even take root you dig it up. No, when the hairs stood on the back of your neck that night, when you had this gut feeling telling you there was more to dig up you knew you couldn’t just brush him off with a single thought. That was not who you were and you were not about to start with those thoughts now.
Subtly, whether it was with or without your active participation to unravel your curiosity in him you were unsure of, a sort of schedule had begun.
It would only be on nights where you worked the graveyard shift, which was five out of the seven nights of the week. You would come home tired, aching and cursing at your shoes and he would either be leaving or returning to the door next to yours. He would always have a look of determination on his face, and that same soul devouring glaze over his eyes that told you he meant business. Nothing more than that would be exchanged between the two of you. But over the next few weeks the both of you would notice more and more, of course you didn’t know this. 
There was always a lot of information to take in, in the few seconds you had from the walk to your flat from the lift. The slower you walked the more noticeable you knew you would be, so you settled on what you could gather every night in small bursts. Whenever he was leaving his flat, he wore the same jacket no matter what other attire he had on though it usually consisted of jeans, sneakers and a tee. He would only take his keys, from what you could see.
It was always a different story when he was coming back though.
Usually, if you caught him coming back at around the same time as you it was always only seconds after you had reached your door. His heavy steps would fill the hall along with his equally heavy breath. He would always be panting, and looking at his watch. He would race past you, practically shove open his door and slam it closed. On nights when you were particularly…nosey sometimes you would place your ear against the door. The sound of organized shuffling would be followed by the sound of tape being pulled from the roll and if you were real quiet you could almost hear…buckling? You would often stop there, feeling guilty as it was with your incessant snooping.
Whenever you saw him in the daylight hours it seemed like he was a different person. This would lead into two subscenerios. If you caught him coming home in a rush, usually when you were taking out the trash, he would be covered in dirt and scrapes. Sometimes he would even be limping or dragging his foot behind him. On these mornings he wouldn’t even look at you fully, just small shy glances before he yet again slammed the door. The other subscenerio of finding him coming home was usually when you were leaving for your shift…and it would just be a simple trade of places in the lift and a small wave.
For a while, that's all it was. Until one fateful weekend.
You had gotten home at around the same time as usual. Tonight was a no interaction night, making you believe he was already out. No mysterious glances or waves, you thought as you tossed your shoes in the corner and started working your apron off.
Before you could drape it over the usual chair and rub whatever knots had formed in the arch of your feet, there was a hard one-one-two-one knock on your door. There was no one else you could think of that would knock on your door at this hour, you only assumed it was him.
Cracking the door open, you see him. He’s dressed in the usual attire, with his hands pushed into his pocket so hard his hood is flush against his head creating the perfect silhouette.
“Hi…” You say, looking up at him.
“I need you to watch over my fish for the next few days.”
An American accent…he had an American accent all of a sudden. The other day he was speaking normally but now he had this gruff accent that was in stark contrast to his usual higher pitched tone you usually heard in his quick good morning greetings.
“You have a fish?” Was the most normal response you could muster given the revelation. 
“Yes, and I need you to watch him. His food is next to the tank.”
Before you can respond, his hand is reaching and holding your wrist with a deathly grip. A key is shoved into your hand and he's off before you can protest. Not that you would, this is groundbreaking in regards to your selfish investigation, but a normal person who wasn’t obsessed with unraveling all the secrets of their recluse neighbor probably would’ve yelled after him.
Instead you were opening his apartment door seconds after those lift doors closed. The lock was a bit hard to budge, but after putting your shoulder into the door you finally stumbled in to find…
Well you weren’t exactly sure what you were expecting, but you were surprised either way.
For the most part it looked like a lived in apartment, with a tiddy mess creating a sort of comfortable ambience in tandem with the piles of books. The lighting is dimmed, with only a few lamps on that are scattered about. You hum to yourself as you walk up to the large tank with a singular plump goldfish, swimming nearly on its side. Upon further inspection, he only had one fin. Hmm, funny, he was just like that one fish in that kid’s movie.
Smiling, you continue to examine the apartment. While you were sure this was overstepping the boundaries of, “watch over my fish for the next few days” there was this hunger in your chest that was finally being fulfilled and you weren’t about to cut it off now.
And then you saw the sand and buckles…
The sand…okay maybe that was a superstitious thing. You did not know much about Egyptian mythology but maybe there was something in it about…sleeping in a circle of sand? Yea that sounded ridiculous to you but that was the best you could come up with for the time being. The ankle restraints?
If anything you had more questions than answers now.
For the following few days, you grew…bored. You had grown used to the exciting feeling of waiting for those elevator doors to open and reveal whatever small bit of information about your neighbor you were going to receive. Now you had access to all the possible answers you could ever want yet you still had questions. Maybe this would be one of those puzzles that was the unsatisfying kind, and you were just digging for a more interesting answer rather than the one you had subconsciously discovered weeks ago. There wasn’t some big hidden question to be answered, your neighbor really was just an enigma.
Of course, given how fate liked to play with people, you had nearly jumped the gun.
Because as you had walked into the lift to ascend to your floor for the night, just a few seconds later a blood covered hand grabbed the door just before it closed.
In stumbled your neighbor, in that same damn jacket and jean combo but this time it was more tattered. His hands were caked in blood, along with the edges of his sleeves. He was panting, huffing and puffing what seemed to be all the oxygen from your lungs into his. You stood there clutching your apron on your chest and pushed into a corner as he pressed the close door button and leaned against the same mirrored wall.
“Is the fish alive?”
Is the-that's the question he was asking you right now?!
“You just scared the life out of me, you look like you’re about to lose yours and you are concerned about a fish?!” You yell, as you shakily place your hand on the mirror.
“I'm gonna assume that's a yes, thanks.” He huffed, holding his hand out as one held onto his stomach.
You stood there flabbergasted, watching as he panted. He had just given you the most pain stacking whiplash that would probably have given you an ache worse than the one you felt after every shift if it was real, and he was wanting his flat key back?
The ding of the lift announced to you both that someone else was about to get on, and you both looked forward with wide eyes. Before the older woman, Ms.Lee you recognized, could step on you pressed the close door button.
“Occupied.” Your voices harmonized as the doors closed.
You’d have to bring her a full pie from the diner tomorrow as an apology, you saw the appalled look on her face. But right now there were more important things to tend to.
“That was rude.” He mumbled as he continued to puff.
“You’re rude.” You curse, as you both finally reach your floor.
You watch as he takes the first steps out ahead of you, and by the way he is stumbling he is not going to make it to his door let alone two more feet. With a quick pace and the siege of his limp arm, you hoist him up against your side. This earns you a grunt, and at first he pulls away until you hear a creak in his side. Yea, the human body wasn’t supposed to make that sound.
Finally getting him into his place, you put him on the edge of the bed before walking over to his bathroom and rifling through his cabinet.
“The med kit…don't bother. Just need a wet rag.” You pause, before looking at yourself in the mirror.
You could walk away now, the answer of your neighbor just being an idiot who probably went and boxed in the dead of night would be good enough for you right?
The blood was at least a few hours old you realized, as you began to wipe his knuckles off. You were kneeled in front of him, inspecting his hand. They would probably bruise guessing with how beat red his knuckles were even after you wiped all the blood off. You were no medical professional though…you just knew based off common knowledge.
“You’re quite nosey y’know. I thought giving you the key to my apartment would satisfy whatever curiosity it is you have with me.” 
You looked up at him, and tilted your head as you pressed the rag harshly against his skin. He hissed as he pulled his hand back and yelped, flicking it before rubbing it tenderly. He guarded it against his chest as he watched you place your hand on your hip.
“You gave me a key to your flat and told me to watch over your fish…and I don’t even know your name. Tell me, why shouldn’t I be curious?”
You watch him look up, and tilt his head as if he’s doing the math before nodding and standing. He towers over you now, you realize. Sure you knew he was tall but every time you would stand near him or pass him he was slouched. But right now, after you had just washed most of the blood off him, you seemed to grasp the situation.
“You’ve got a point.”
His hand grasps your wrist again, like he did before but not as harsh, and grabs the rag from you. He’s gentle this time as he holds you, and you can’t help but feel a small shock run down your wrist. There go the hairs on the back of your neck again. 
When you look into his eyes, his pupils are either expanding or you’re getting sucked into them again. Except the falling feeling isn’t feeling as impending as it did before. Instead this time it devoured every suspicion of malice you had about him. If anything this urge to be near him grew more with every second. You summed it up to wanting to know what exactly he did to come home covered in blood…
Pulling your wrist from his grasp and blinking away whatever feeling he had sent down your spine, you sigh as you dig around your pocket and hold out the key.
“Here…”
He watches you for a moment, and whatever thoughts that were going through his head finally seem to subside as he closes your hand around the key.
“Keep it…It probably won't be the last time you need to watch over Gus.”
Watching his hand hold your fist closed, and the hairs on his fist raise was all you needed. He was just as curious about you…at the very least in your interest in him. Having a keen eye taught you well about body language. 
Clasping his other hand around your limp one, he lifts it to rest on your raised fist that is held in his other hand. He sighs, before beginning to walk forward causing you to walk backwards. Based on how much time you spent in his place you know you’re headed to the front door. If you had any sense you would stop and demand some answers. But you were both obviously exhausted, you from the emotional rollercoaster he just sent you on in the past hour and him from gods know what. You were still getting over the fact that he just gave you the spare key to his place without even knowing his name.
You knew his fucking fish’s name before his.
Standing now beyond the doorway, he lets go of your hand and takes in your own body language. He’s contemplating something, you can see it. It seems to be something serious, because a vein on his neck pulsates as he grips his hand.
“If you could…don’t mention any of this to me next time you see me if I’m speaking with a British accent.” So he knew he was speaking in a different accent than yours or anyone else's.
Before he fully closes the door, he peeks out at you. 
“My names Marc.”
Standing there now, looking at the closed door, the key in your hand feels as if it is burning right through your skin. The only thing that convinced you that it wasn’t was the lack of a burning skin smell that would be filling the air.
If you weren’t down bad before, you certainly were now.
----------
If you want to be tagged in the next part, tell me in the replies of this post! All I ask in return is you interact with the posts you are tagged in as it means alot to me and helps motivate me! 
2K notes · View notes
thatonecurlygirl · 3 years ago
Text
When Realities Blur [Chapter 2]
Fandom: Stranger Things
Pairing: Coming next chapter
Word Count: 2.4k
Read other chapters
Tumblr media
You quickly grab clothes from your closet and pull them on a you run through the house, desperate to get out and to Family Video as quickly as possible to meet Steve, Robin, Dustin, and Max before they leave to find Eddie.
“Y/N! We were just coming to find you!” Max shouts as she and Dustin bike up the sidewalk to meet you at your front door.
“I know,” You grab your keys and nod to the car, “Leave your bikes, let’s go get Steve and Robin.”
“So, you’ve seen the news?” Dustin asks as the three of you rush to your car.
“You could say that.” You slide in the car and look at both the kids. “We really have to talk about something as soon as we get to Eddie.”
You peel out of the parking spot and race down the street. Family Video isn’t far from your house, it’s typically a three minute car ride — you made it in one. The kids are out of the car before you can even come to a full stop and are in the store by the time you park.
“What ‘cause calling all of Eddie’s friends is an emergency?” Robin scoffs.
“Correct!” Dustin replies.
“Stop bickering.” You groan, “We don’t need the phones, I know where Eddie is.”
Everyone turns to you, you can see the questions behind their eyes as you turn and flip the OPEN sign to CLOSED and lock the door. You stride up to the counter and look everyone dead in the eyes.
“Would you like to fill us in?” Steve asks cautiously.
“Something is happening in Hawkins again, with Chrissy dead and-”
“Wait, it was Chrissy, Chrissy Cunningham?” Robin gasps.
“Yes, but-”
“How’d you know it was Chrissy? They didn’t say who it was on the news?” Max asks.
“Yeah and how do you know where Eddie is?” Dustin adds.
“That’s what I am trying to tell you,” you pause, “If the Upside Down is an alternate dimension that exist parallel to our world, there has to be other alternate dimensions with different realities, right? One in which we are us, but live different lives, right?” You look around the group, landing on Dustin who is obviously mulling the idea over.
“It’s definitely possible, why?” He nods.
“Because I think I’m from a completely different reality.” You confess.
“No, nope, not possible.” Steve shakes his head, dismissing the conversation.
“Shut up and listen, Steve.” You hiss. “I believe I am from a reality in which Hawkins doesn’t exist, that I am a regular person watching a Sci-if show and you all are actors that play in the show. I don’t know how or why, but I think I may have accidentally slipped into this reality.”
“It sounds too Twilight Zone-y to me.” Steve huffs.
“Yes!” You smack the counter with an open palm. “Exactly like a fucked up episode of the twilight zone.”
“Okay, I get it, but it doesn’t really make sense to me. You’ve always been here, though. It’s not like we woke up one day and you were magically here.” Max interjects.
“Yes, but like—” you pause to think, running your hands through your hair as you turn in a slow circle. “In this reality we are in right now, I have always been here, but in my reality there is no Y/n is Hawkins. It’s almost as if the me here and the me in my reality switched consciousness. How else would I know that Chrissy died in Eddie’s trailer, or that Eddie is hiding out at Reefer Rick’s?”
“Chrissy died in Eddie Munson’s trailer?” Steve nearly loses his head as he quickly looks to Dustin.
“He didn’t do it though. Looks like the fight isn’t over after all.”
“More monsters?” Robin sighs.
“Unfortunately and Max— Ahh!” You scream, holding your head tight as it feel like a lightening bolt is ripping through your skull.
“Y/N!” The four of them yell and make their way to you on the other side of the counter.
“Are you okay?” They ask as you straighten up.
“Yeah,” you nod, you know you were going to say something, but can’t for the life of you remember what it was. It may be partially due to the severe pain or the phrase bouncing through your head. ‘No spoilers… or everyone expires. The butterflies have no mercy.’
“You were going to say something. What were you going to say?” Max asks.
“I… I can’t remember.” You shake you’re head.
“So how exactly do you know all this stuff?” Steve asks, as if everything I said went right over his head.
“In my reality, this is a tv show that I’ve watched plenty of times. I know everything that is going to happen. Except of course the little things that change because of… me.” You gasp, continuing in a much softer voice, “Because the butterflies have no mercy. It’s the butterfly effect!”
“The what?” Robin asks.
“Okay, so apparently I slept like over twenty four hours and while I was sleeping I had this weird dream. The only thing is it didn’t feel like a dream, it was kind of this weird just nothingness. It’s sort of like what El experiences when she goes… wherever she goes. Anyway, I saw my reflection in a mirror but it wasn’t me, ya know? So she said these things to me and I think they are riddles?”
“I like riddles, go on.” Dustin nods.
“She said something about me losing myself. Then she said, ‘Speak no evil. No spoilers… or they all expire. The butterflies have no mercy.’ I don’t know if you really know what the butterfly effect is, but it’s a chaos theory in which one tiny change now can have a catastrophic change in the future.” You look up at Steve and see he still isn’t getting it. “If I go back in time and talk Mrs. Wheeler into letting you nerds play for another twenty minutes, Will would have never encountered the demogorgon. We would have never met El. Steve would still be a dick and we would all likely be dead, because everything had to line up perfectly to get the outcome we have right now.”
“Shit.” Is all Steve says.
“Everyone will die.” Robin says slowly. “Everyone will expire means everyone will die.”
“No spoilers? Are you going to poison us?” Steve really is lucky he’s cute.
“Damn,” You huff. “I get it now. ‘Speak no evil. No spoilers… or everyone dies.’ I can’t tell you guys what is going to happen, or everyone will die.”
“Because one small change you make can change the trajectory of the future.” Dustin gasps.
“If it’s that serious, something bad must happen.” Robin says, more of a statement than a question but everyone looks at you all the same.
“We should get to Eddie.” You turn and walk back to the door unlocking it and looking over your shoulder. “Come on, we’ve gotta go!”
“Does something bad happen, Y/N?” Robin calls after you, no one moving an inch.
“You have no idea.” You push through the door and go straight to your car, the others quickly making their way out, locking the door behind them. “We need to stop by and grab him something to eat and drink, he’s probably starving.”
Max rides with you, both in a not quite awkward silence, but in silence all the same. On the way to Reefer Rick’s, the two of you jumped out of the car and grabbed a couple snacks and drinks with the handful of cash that was left in your car. When the five of you pull up to the house, Robin, Steve, and Dustin jump out and start making their way to to house.
“Hey!” You shout, slipping out of the car. “He’s in there.” You nod to the boat house
“Right, time traveler.” Steve nods.
“Not a time traveler.” You laugh for the first time since, well since whatever the hell happened that got you stuck here.
“Close enough.” He smiles back at you, before turning to the boathouse door. “Hopefully he doesn’t murder us too.”
“Eddie is innocent.” Dustin huffs.
“The kid’s right, Munson didn’t do it.” You roll your eyes. “Now be careful, he’s in the b-boat.” You stutter, as it feels like the air nearly got knocked out of you, but you shake it off and go inside.
Steve immediately picks up an oar and starts poking at the tarp in the boat as Dustin tries coaxing Eddie out by calling his name. Just at Dustin begins scolding Steve about being more gentle with the oar, Eddie jumps out of the boat, broken beer bottle held to Steve’s neck.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” Steve shouts as he’s pushed against the wall.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Eddie! Eddie! Stop!” Dustin shouts.
“Shit,” You curse falling backward and straight on your butt. Why had you not remembered this happening before now? How could you have forgotten this part?
“Eddie! Eddie! It’s me! Dustin!” Dustin shouts as Robin helps you back up to your feet. “This is Steve. He’s not going to hurt you, right Steve?”
“Right. Yeah” Steve quietly huffs out.
“Steve, why don’t you drop the oar.” It’s honestly adorable seeing this happen in real life, well minus the fact that Steve has a broken bottle to his neck.
Steve drops the oar with a loud thud and Eddie jumps a little, the sharp end of the bottle pressing closer against Steve’s neck. You can see the pure terror on Steve’s face and you can see Eddie is completely out of it, maybe it’s shock or panic, but whatever it is it’s taken over him in this moment.
“Eddie, I know what happened and I know you’re scared and confused.” You gently push past Dustin and take a small step closer to Eddie.
“Y/L/N?” He asks. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.” Dustin replies.
“We are here to help.” Robin adds.
“We are here as friends, Eddie. So please let our Steve go.” You take another step closer.
“Y/n, no.” Steve warns through gritted teeth.
“You guys aren’t my friends.” Eddie shakes his head.
“Dustin’s your friend.” You wave Dustin over to join you at your side. “Dustin, Robin, Max, Steve and I are here to help.”
“We are on your side. I swear on my mother! Right guys?” Dustin says, you can hear the urgency in his voice.
“Yes. Yes, we swear.”
“On Dustin’s mother.” Robin nods, eyes wide.
“Yeah, Dustin’s… Dustin’s mother.” Steve mutters frantically.
A few tense moments pass in deafening silence before Eddie backs away from Steve and slumps against the wall. Steve quickly side steps away from Eddie, holding his neck. You kneel down in front of him, gently placing a hand on his knee.
“You okay, Steve?” You ask, trying to look past his hair to his face.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” He nods, giving you a reassuring smile.
“We just want to know what happened.” Robin saying this brings your attention back to Eddie.
“You won’t believe me.” He says quietly, his voice shaking.
“Try us.” Max sighs.
So he does. Eddie delves into the story of what happened the previous night. He tells of Chrissy’s trance he tried to wake her from prior to her floating and the lights flickering. He struggled through what really happened to Chrissy, her violent death. The sound of her bones popping and the loud thud of her body hitting the ground.
“You all think I’m crazy, right?” He scoffs when he finishes his story.
“No, we don’t think you’re crazy.” Dustin reply’s calmly.
“Don’t bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds.” Eddie raises his voice, lip quivering.
“We’re not bullshitting you.” Max shakes her head.
“We believe you.” Robin nods.
“We wouldn’t be here otherwise.” You add.
“Look, what I’m about to tell you might be a little�� difficult to take.” Dustin settles into the story of what is really happening in Hawkins.
In that moment, Eddie becomes part of the group. He learns of our Superhero friend, Eleven and of the monsters that have been fought right under everyone’s noses. Eddie learns that he mall fire was a cover for something much more sinister and that you, well you are…
“From another dimension?” Eddie says slowly, obviously not something that he totally believes. “I never imagined Y/N Y/L/N would be so…weird.”
“Says Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson.” You giggle.
“So, if I m understanding correctly, everything we know about anything could be in question. Multidimensional travel is on the table?” He thinks everything over. “And Y/L/N’s conciseness somehow got switched?”
“Yeah, in her reality we are movie stars. Well, except for Y/N, she’s sort of a nobody.” Robin explains.
“Thanks Rob.” You sigh and roll your eyes. “Back home, everyone is drooling over either Steve or Eddie, sometimes both.” You giggle.
“Are you?” Eddie asks and you are taken aback by the question.
“Well, I uh- I mean… yeah.” You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks.
“Wait, who?” Steve perks up, everyone’s eyes on you.
“I’m not talking about this with you guys.” You huff.
“I want to know more.” Max says softly from the spot on the floor she has made herself comfortable at.
“Well Max, you are considered a certified scream queen, you rule the horror genre. Oh, and you were on Broadway, Dustin too! Robin, you are the daughter of two really famous actors and you sing. You do too, Steve.” You smile, “You have a band named Djo, you are goofy, and a really talented actor.”
“Steve Harrington has a band?” Eddie laughs.
“I can’t believe it either.” Steve shakes his head.
“Eddie Munson… you played with Metallica.”
“I did what?!” Eddie screams, jumping to his feet. “You are lying!”
“I would never!” You laugh at his excitement. “I am being totally honest. After yo— af-after…” You trail off.
“Y/n?” Max jumps up, running over to you.
“Speak no evil.” The voice in your head begins. “You know the rules. Speak no evil.” She says as you feel the weightlessness of your body falling. You can feel he thud of your body hitting the floor a millisecond before your blurry vision turns black.
———————————————
Taglist: @xicarcalii @asheseiler @loulouloueh @lacunaanonymoused @fujiihime @dingusfreakhxrrington @tarkalean-trekkie trekkie @ally-holmes @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @griffienn @silky-luxe @teenage0jealousy @pearlstiare @gooblerstan @blueberryhitosh1 @eddiemunson17 @celie-voss @smellyzcat
54 notes · View notes
forestgreenfairy · 2 years ago
Text
A Teenage Kind of Love (salvis)
Episode 5
( travis) 
I'm staring at my ceiling, analyzing all the patterns in the roof, cracks, paint peeling or water damage, all the things that come with age and houses. For me the things that come with age are far worse than cracking or being damaged. Its feelings.
When you're little you don't feel much besides happy, sad, and mad but as you grow your feelings develop along with your body jealousy, disgust among others, and love. Love is the one which brings me the most distress and anxiety, not becuase im nervous to confess my feelings to a girl or a girl doesn't like me back. It's because I like boys. Something my father could never accept, something that could get me killed. 
There's a loud bang on my door and I shoot up out of my bed. 
“TRAVIS LETS GO '' my father shouts. I get up smoothing my suit and slipping on my black dress shoes. I open the door and he's staring at me with evil eyes.
“Ready?” he questions and I nod following him down the stairs. Allyssa is waiting for us dressed in black from head to toe standing in the doorway. 
“My condolences travis” she says wiping a tear from her face slightly smudging her mascara. 
“Thank you alyssa, but you knew her about as well as i did” i pause “my condolences” i say smiling
“Let's go, they are waiting for us at the church,” my father says, grabbing the keys off the wall. 
The next hours are hard to recall, many people hugged me and said they were sorry to me and my father. Everytime my father would cry or act sad I wanted to scream, I was so angry I started crying. I couldn't take it. Everyone assumed they were tears of sadness but they were tears of complete rage and hatred. 
I helped carry her coffin out of the church and to the hearse, and then from the hearse to the gravesite. A small graveyard exclusively for members of the phelps ministry church, it has a few trails right out front but other than that it is quite barren. 
I set her coffin down and step back and listen to the rest of the sermon my father gives. They begin to lower her in the ground and suddenly it's real. This is my life forever, my life continues on when hers has ceased. My heart hertz in a way I can't describe, I fall to my knees crying. 
People begin to whisper behind me and I know my father is angry, making people talk is one of the worst sins he would always say, But I couldn't care any less than I do know. I pull my golden roasterie out from beneath my shirt and suit and hold the cross in my hand. I slump over head to the ground and for the first time in a long time, I pray. 
(sal) 
Today is Mrs. Phelps funeral and the whole town's talking, talking about how she died and about Mr.phelps behavior leading up to the funeral. Larry says es seen Mr. Phelps with a young woman who he says looks “shockingly similar to young Mrs.Phelps”. 
It's about 12 when churchgoers begin to leave the cemetery grounds and begin to tell the events of exactly what happened at the funeral. 
I talked with a women who live downstairs about it once she got homeA
“It was a beautiful, and extravagant service but other than that there was nothing of note” she says in her sweet soft voice. 
“except for what Travis did when his mom's coffin was being lowered into the ground.” She frowns, eyes full of sadness.
“he started crying and fell to his knees,then he pulled out his rosary and keeled over and while crying, he began to pray. Almost every prayer i knew and ones i didnt he was muttering under his breath.'' She pauses and takes a deep breath.
“His tears are watering his mothers grave like Mary at Jesus's feet '' she says, patting my shoulder.
“Now I really must get Sam.” I don't care to correct her because I'm so concerned for travis. Him hurting so much hurts me, it makes me sad for him. I need to see him, hug him, hold him and tell him it's okay. 
Fuck. i do have a crush on him. But i dont think im totally gay? I mean i've had a crush on a girl before,but i do think i like travis i mean i don't know what else this feeling would mean if i didn't like him. I don't think it really matters as long as I'm honest with him. I mindlessly find my way back to the partment and sit at my desk. 
I pull out a piece of paper and pen. My therapist said when I'm dealing with feelings that are hard to express, I should write a letter to myself or whoever I'm feeling frustrated/sad/upset etc with. I write a letter to travis and it reads:
Dear travis, 
I know you won't know what to do when you read this, if you read this but hanging out with you has made me realize and i don't really know how to say this so i'm writing it but, i like you travis like you. Like I want to hug you and hold you. I want to run my hands through your perfect hair and kiss your perfect face. I want to tell you how I feel, I want you to be able to tell me how you feel, I want you to confide in me. To trust me. I understand if you don't feel the same way about me as I do you, considering your religious beliefs and your personal emotions but you just needed to know. 
Love,
Sal fisher. 
I fold it neatly then stick it in the most hidden pocket of my backpack. I don't intend on giving it to him any time soon or even at all but I want to have it just in case. When I do this I see the letter from that boy and I re-read it. I recognize the handwriting but I'm not sure from where… oh my god, this is travis’s handwriting, i remember because one time i had to peer-review an essay of his. My brain wonders thinking of every possible solution and of who the boy he's writing to is. 
Then my heart sent a flutter. Could it be me? I think. Maybe I will give him my letter on monday.
(travis) 
When I get home I'm drained of any and all emotions except for emptiness and sadness. My father does not share these same emotions with me because when we get home he sits me down on the couch to “just talk” with him and alyssa. 
“So travis considering the day we've all had me and your father were hoping to bring some good news” she says smiling and holding onto my fathers arm. 
“Me and alyssa travis we are getting married next sunday” he says beaming down at her. 
My stomach drops and I begin to cry once again, he is a truly evil man. Not only did he kill his wife he is getting married exactly a week after her funeral? I don't understand and I don't understand his reasoning but still I listen when he begins to speak again. 
“We just thought it would be very honoring of your mother for it to be a week after symbolizing a new start” he says looking at me, watching, waiting for a reaction but all i can do is cry.
“Oh don't cry sweetheart '' Allysa says rubbing my knee but I just can't take it. I swat her hand away and stand up. 
“Dad are you fu” im cut off my a swift slap across the face from my father 
“DO NOT use foul language in this house and DO NOT speak back to me in front of your mother boy” he emphasizes the word mother and it all clicks. He wanted the amount of time without my mother to be so slim almost as if she had just left momentarily. He wanted to replace her, acting as if nothing happened. 
“She is not my mother” I breathe. I walk away from them making my way to my room. Neither of them stop me and I go to bed more upset than when  I woke up if that's even possible. 
8 notes · View notes
rinatthemin · 2 years ago
Text
Get to Know Me Tag
Thank you @avrablake for tagging!
Last song: The Woods by Wolfgun. A years-old favorite, upbeat and chiptuney (kind of reminiscent of Porter Robinson?) with lyrics I've always been able to vividly imagine a whole pixel art animatic for, but will stay firmly in my head given my shortage of time and skill. Only downside of this bop is that it isn't on Spotify, unless you're me and bought it to import the file locally. If you want to be me, it's on Bandcamp.
Last show: Just recently finished a watch of The Terror with my girlfriend! We've been watching a lot of things that have helped me expand my palate beyond the usual Comfort Food Television that I tend to fall into when left to my own devices, and experience some brilliant gems I otherwise would have completely missed. It's bleak, it's horrific, and it's so well done that you can't look away until everyone is, as promised by the very first minutes of the first episode, gone.
Currently watching: Key and Peele, also with my girlfriend! We've been on a Jordan Peele kick ever since watching Nope earlier this year.
Currently Reading: I'm between books at the moment, having just finished A Restless Truth by Freya Marske, so I'm still in the process of deciding what to read next. I'm thinking I want to go ahead and dive into The Locked Tomb series next, but I'm still waiting for my store to restock before I can get ahold of it. Soon!
Current obsession: At the moment, definitely Freya Marske's The Last Binding series! I'd finished rereading A Marvellous Light right before jumping into A Restless Truth and devouring it in two days, so it's all very fresh for me right now and my mind is full to the brim with gay Edwardian magic. All the love in the world to @fahye for entrancing me so completely with her rich worldbuilding, vividly drawn characters, and truly inspiring deftness of prose! I'm as ready as can be for the trilogy's concluding installment this November, bittersweet as it'll be to say goodbye to this world.
Truth be told I am absolutely hopeless at socializing on here with people I don't already know unless they say something to me first, so let's say that if you happen to be someone hoping for a tag, either from me in particular or just as an excuse to fill this out, consider it done! And feel free to let me know so I'll know to say hello. :)
3 notes · View notes
wafflehousepancakes · 4 years ago
Text
The Montague Siblings Series Fic Recs!
@em-gray pointed out how this fandom has no fic rec lists (tho we have one that they made now) so I thought I would help in alleviating that problem because i have a lot of strong feelings about a lot of fics!
Canon Compliant/Canon Era
Throughout All of Your Poorest Decisions by lady_flash. Pre- and post-GG. Various snapshots throughout Monty’s relationship with Richard Peele and, at the end, Percy. Sad but also wholesome and very cute at the end! 9.5k. 3/3 chapters.
Each Step is the Wrong Direction by TheWriterWhoNeverWrites. The scene in LG where Percy gets shot from Monty’s POV! This fic makes me very emotional. 2.9k.
not quite an epiphany by goldenthunderstorms. The scenes after Monty gets shot from Percy’s POV with a dash of religious trauma! Yes this is my fic but I’m very proud of it. 4.2k.
Any Sort of Magic by JustaHogwartsGirl. Sim and Felicity’s kiss in LG from Sim’s POV! This fic is very cute and the writing style is magnificent. 1.6k.
yours by pjobroadwayslut14. A fic written in verse(!!!) about Percy getting letters from Monty at Eton. A lovely quick read. 623 words.
The Gentleman’s Guide to Scintillating Conversation by doettes. A GL rewrite with bonus fluff and communication. Brilliant writing and a general good time. 9.9k. 1/2 chapters.
Full Circle by Random2002. An imagined NG scene in which Monty passes on Scipio’s punching lesson to Adrian. The wonderful big brother Monty content that we all need. 2.1k.
Let Me Look After You by HMS_Chill. Sickfic where Monty ignores his symptoms to take care of Percy. This fic made me feel very many things I love it. 6.5k.
Modern AUs
call me? by future_fae_king. Trying to get over his feelings for Monty, Percy slides into the DMs of a poetry account he really likes on Instagram, only to find out the poet, who writes to cope with being in love with his best friend, is Monty! Lovely writing and absolutely adorable. 1.4k.
Hospital Beds by Pink_Cactus. 5 times Monty and Percy spent in hospitals together. Very painful but so, so beautiful. Read the TWs! 27.4k. 4/5 chapters.
A Gentleman’s Guide to Divorce and Deceit by Pigzxo. When his estranged mother invites Monty and his husband over for dinner, Monty doesn’t have to heart to tell her that they had just gotten divorced. Instead, he enlists his roommate, Percy, to act as his husband. Hijinks, miscommunication, and confessions ensue. I read this whole fic in one sitting and adored it. 15.5k. 11/11 chapters.
A Bed Half Empty by SpiritsFlame. Percy wakes up alone after a hookup with Monty and makes some incorrect assumptions. Miscommunication and idiots in love doing their best. This fic is really sweet. 12.6k.
The road not taken (Looks real good now) by Random2002. Monty is an artist returning to his small hometown looking for inspiration. Instead, he finds his high school sweetheart who he never really got over in the first place. 21.9k. 5/5 chapters.
unknown by em_gray. Monty texts a random number during a depressive episode and an unlikely friendship forms. This is a comfort fic of mine, so sweet and poignant. 3.8k. 2/2 chapters.
don’t need a key (just your love to unlock it) by unremarkableworlds. A 5+1 Mercy neighbors AU! A wonderful balance of fluff and angst and beautifully written. 7.8k.
To the Letter by pinstripedJackalope. Monty is Adrian’s guardian and working at a bookstore where he meets trans musician Percy Nicks. This fic is gorgeous it makes me so emotional and is just so sweet!!! I need Kay to finish it please and thank you. 19.3k. 7/14 chapters.
Other AUs
Marks by em_gray. Canon era and compliant soulmate AU where you get magical marks on your skin that hint at who your soulmate is! A super cool concept and absolutely gorgeous fic! 3.7k.
lovers’ desire by goldenthunderstorms. A Hadestown AU in which Monty and Percy are Hades and Persephone! No Hadestown knowledge required to read it! Another one of mine that I’m very proud of! I am told it’s very painful. 11.4k. 2/2 chapters.
here’s the thing by coyotestoryteller. Part of a series of epistolary fics set in a universe with magical powers in which Monty fakes his death. Absolutely gorgeous and heart-wrenching. Good quick comfort reads. 1.5k.
shooting stars by em_gray. A loosely-inspired Cinderella AU! Monty is the prince, Percy is Cinderella, there’s magic and pining! This fic is so tender it made me cry in a bubble tea shop. Please read it. 18.4k. 3/3 chapters.
Bittersweet and Strange by crashingintothesun. Beauty and the Beast AU! Monty is the Beast, Percy is the Beauty, enemies to lovers goodness! The writing is gorgeous and I think this fic made me cry? 36.9k. 5/5 chapters.
The Bluejay’s Song by pinstripedJackalope. 1930s bank robbers with established Mercy! An absolute delight to read. 3.9k.
and indeed, there will be time by pjobroadwayslut14. Royalty AU with Prince Monty, court musician Percy, and established Mercy! This one is short, sweet, and fluffy. 2.6k.
Star Crossed by em_gray. A soulmate AU combined with a sci-fi AU! Monty is the prince of an intergalactic empire and is kidnapped by a member of the rebellion who turns out to be his soulmate that he’s been telepathically communicating with his entire life. This fic is full of political intrigue, cool space stuff, and ALL of the feelings. I could rave about this one for hours. A true fandom staple with multiple companion one-shots AND an ongoing sequel! 100.5k. 22/22 chapters.
134 notes · View notes
kelmcdonald · 2 years ago
Text
Lots of Comics, Manga, and Movies
Tumblr media
Crossposted from my newletter
Hey folks! I hope you all had a fun Halloween. Thanks everyone who joined my discord and enjoyed werewolf movies with me this October. It went well enough that I'm gonna do a werewolf movie each full moon. Join me November 8th at 5pm PST to watch the 1994 movie Wolf.
Tumblr media
This past month I mostly worked on crowdfunding prep. If you didn't know, I'm in charge of making sure all the pieces of Iron Circus's crowdfunds are ready. And Iron Circus's Smut Peddler Double Header crowdfund is closing out the year on Backerkit's new platform. So there was a lot of last minute changes I had to do. And on top of that, I was typing up the script for a promo video for Iron Circus's next anthology Failure to Launch (which I've also been posting pencil versions of my story's pages on my Patreon). That's gonna crowdfund in February. So it was a bit of a juggle act. I've also finished penciling Murky Water. I will probably finish inking it this or next week. The next City Between story is gonna be about vampires. It still needs a title. There are a few options but I am still thinking it over. Titles are always hard. 
Tumblr media
Just last weekend I saw Wendell and Wild, which was fun ride! If you are unfamiliar, it's a stop motion animation coming to Netflix soon. It stars Key and Peele as the titular demons and they are summed by a young girl to resurrect her dead parents. The movie has one or two too many subplots, so the pacing is a little wonky. But it is enjoyable and lovely. Here's the trailer. I'm still doing my usual art streams on my twitch and cohosting the Iron Circus Geekshow. Out of our recent streams, I particularly like this episode where we talk about where the line between sci-fi and fantasy is. Spoiler, the answer is it's based on vibes. Also, Spike and I both really like the game Rimworld. It just got a big update/DLC. Streaming going well has made Spike and I start talking about doing a charity stream on Christmas day. I'll have more updates on that next newsletter. But it should be a fun time. 
Tumblr media
As for November, I mentioned I'm gonna finish inking Murky Water. Then I will finish drawing my story for Failure to Launch. With those both done, I can get back to drawing You are the Chosen One. Both can be read on my patreon. Those will be the main highlight of my art streams. Off stream, I'm still editing for Seven Seas. The mangas I've been editing are hitting books stores quicker. There is a very cute queer romance I edited titled I'm Kinda Chubby and I'm Your Hero. If I had to pick one title I'm editing for seven seas to pick up, it would be that one. It's about a chubby actor getting his first fan. Said fan turns out to be a handsome pastry chef. They grow closer and it's very cute. I also got to finish writing my graphic novel with Meredith McClarren this month. So I'll be pretty busy. It's a good thing there aren't any conventions this month or next month. Thanks all for your support each month! Have a good one.
4 notes · View notes
chakytron · 4 years ago
Text
Meeting Bigoted Parents - Key & Peele
Meeting Bigoted Parents – Key & Peele
Meeting Bigoted Parents – Key & Peele Category Comedy Description: A woman’s parents don’t hide their dislike of her new fiancé. About Key & Peele: Key & Peele showcases the fearless wit of stars Keegan-Michael Key and … TopTrengingTV Hunting the most trend video of the moment, every hour every day 24/7. Youtube Video Data Published At: 2021-02-01T21:00:02Z   Tags:  [‘toptrendingtv’, ‘trend…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
0 notes
sweetestlamb · 4 years ago
Text
Yoga
Summary: Vincenzo hides his jealousy as well as he hides being part of the mafia.
Author's note: it was supposed to be a cute jealous yoga story I don't know why this ended in angst 😂😂😂 I really need to get my life together. Also Vincenzo rubbed me the wrong way today and some people are trying to convince me that I'm interpreting the show incorrectly and explaining to me why it didn't offend them and why everything was fine and I just need you to know, my opinion isn't changing but listen if you had a great time today watching the episode please don't let me stop you. I don't need anyone to be outraged with me. I'll be mad all by myself I promise! But just to be clear my problem was the creation of yet another gay character who an awful person in a kdrama. I can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen gay characters not be predators or abusive.
Anywho I give you jealous aerial yoga fun that ends in man pain!
He probably believes that he's being inconspicuous again, hiding this side of him as well as he'd thought he was hiding being a member of the mafia. But he's just as obvious as he always is in her eyes, much like her he's too theatrical to ever really conceal how he's feeling. He talks too much and reveals his cards too easily- especially to her.
He's attracted to her that much is painfully evident, if her father's nosy assistant hadn't interrupted they would have kissed. She would have been laid across the table and taken apart, his eyes promised a great time as he devoured her. She was just as attracted to him, she wouldn't have stopped him from doing whatever he wanted.
It is getting more difficult to ignore the quiet moments though, when she can feel his eyes on her and it's not sexual at all. He's just looking at her and she feels bare, naked.
Those moments scare her in a way she hasn't felt before. Ergo she presses them deep, deep into the dark corners of her brain behind all the different ways that she has concocted to throw off others, she's used to being strange and having men overlook her for it.
She's never been what others would consider "sexy". But then he appears and suddenly men seem to see her in a new light. Or maybe he brings her attention to it.
It all begins at the coffee shop, they've made a habit of starting their mornings together by getting coffee. She doesn't analyze what exactly they're doing but some may consider it a date, she hasn't giving the outings a title there's no need to.
She feels comfortable with him and he hasn't been resistant to her pushing her way into his life. She has always been like this, too much and overbearing. Usually it drives people away and she pretends that it doesn't hurt that she's something that people need in doses, she's heard that so often that it's etched in her brain.
Friends in college, boyfriends and her colleagues to name a few.
But for some reason he keeps coming back for more doses, regularly smiling at her shenanigans even egging on her antics with full body laughs.
So he'd taken her to get coffee grinning once again as she dragged her caffeine deprived body dramatically like a puppet with its strings cut to the counter, plopping herself on the surface before crying out, "If I don't get a large sewage water in five minutes my death will be on your hands!" The barista behind the counter grinned over at her, used to her dramatics. He was young, barely nineteen and he'd tried his hand at flirting with her a few times. She had promptly laughed in his face the first time, spewing coffee everywhere before strutting out of the shop.
Laughing and punching a stranger in the arm, ignoring the loud "Hey! What are you doing," before she danced down the sidewalk, hand on her hip as she flipped her hair before shouting to the sky, "I've still got it, baby!"
That day he had glanced at Vincenzo before walking over to her, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"I didn't realize I had so much power over you. What if I say I won't give it to you unless you let me take you on a date?" She remembered her eyes widening in shock and then disbelief and finally landing on bemusement, he was persistent she would give him that much but she was no cougar so his flirting was futile.
She opened her mouth to let him down easy- laugh in his face again and remind him that he had to be this old to ride her ride but suddenly her Italian was leaning across the counter, all cool lines with a deadly smile on his face.
With a his deep voice he chillingly said, "If you don't give it to her your death will be on my hands."
There was heavy silence.
He continued, "I know how to kill a man with only a coffee cup and a string."
The barista, Heon, stared at Vincenzo with all of the blood draining from his youthful face. She didn't blame him the man did sound unnervingly serious and the look in his eyes was a little too real to be purely acting. Plus there was conveniently a coffee cup and a string right there on the table, it was an oddly specific thing to say.
Then after a pregnant pause, he started laughing loudly filling the entire shop like a mad man and she looked over at him as if he had lost his damn mind but this was her favorite coffee shop, she couldn't be banned so she started laughing with him, guffawing and pushing the idiot on the shoulders.
"He's just joking! HahaHAHAHA, laugh it was a joke! LAUGH!!" She leaned across the counter to pat the scared boy on the back but then Vincenzo leaned into her, draping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her back until she was no longer touching him. His laughter static and too robotic to be anything other than a hoax.
She'd never seen anyone brew coffee that fast before. It was impressive what a person could do when they felt as if their life was in danger she'd thought, she gave him a generous tip before leaving.
Heon mysteriously stopped working when they would normally come to the coffee, another barista informed her that he had switched his hours. A certain Italian was really cheerful upon hearing the news, whistling an unknown tune as he sipped his tiny cup of espresso- double shot, traipsing away with a pep in his step and the wind beneath his suit coat.
His random violent outbursts continued.
Bartenders. Businessmen. Traffic officers. Other lawyers. A librarian who had flirtatiously whispered that she wouldn't need to be quiet when they were alone. Suddenly there were men everywhere and she was the hottest thing on the menu, her lower back probably had an imprint of his hand by now from all the times he would steer her away from her suitors.
Every time his excuses were the same, "I'm just protecting you. Guys like that are scum, you deserve better."
Well the one she wanted had no intention of staying so why was he blocking anyone else from trying?
Thinking about it makes her chest feel tight and she welcomes the weekend, she has booked an aerial yoga class to release some of the stress and tension just being around the Italian causes.
It's a warm day so she dons a small set, a light blue sports bra with matching shorts throwing a light jacket over in case the temperature drops at the end of the day. Looking in the mirror she scoops her hair into a low ponytail, pushing back baby hairs that frame her face.
She swipes a thin layer of chapstick across her dry lips before grabbing her phone, keys, gym membership card and her gym bag with a change of clothes.
The drive to the studio is short, she listens to BlackPink on the radio happily screaming about her dududududu complete with car choreo that consists of arm shakes and a lot of hair whipping. It's another miraculous day where she does not cause a car accident, she gives herself a high five for the small victory.
She parks her car haphazardly driving onto the sidewalk several times before getting it right. With a satisfied sigh she hops out of her car, opening the back door and bending over to grab her gym bag.
"Cha-young ah?"
A familiar voice surprises her and she jumps bumping her head into the roof of her car with a cry, she drops the gym bag and leans out of the car rubbing her throbbing head with a pained grimace.
Vincenzo is standing in front of her, in what is the most casual outfit she has ever seen him wear. A pair of navy blue sweatpants, a plain white t-shirt and expensive looking black sneakers, leave it to him to wear Balenciagas when trying to look casual.
Her mouth becomes very dry as she takes in the unexpected but very much welcome sight.
Shaking herself out of her stupor she raises an eyebrow at him, "What are you doing here?" She asks once again leaning into her car to retrieve her gym bag. When she turns around slamming the door shut she watches Vincenzo peel his eyes away, quickly looking away from her direction.
Had he been checking her out?
She smirks at the thought before openly checking him out. Eyes perusing his body up and down in a slow and thorough examination.
"Are you checking me out?" He asks amused as he folds his arms across his chest, making his already impressive biceps look even bigger and more enticing. She knows exactly what he's doing, he's about as subtle as a bulldozer.
"Yes, I am. Do you need me to turn around again so you can check me out?" She laughs easily as he sputters and tries to deny her claims, once he realizes that she doesn't believe a word he's saying he finally stops, admitting defeat.
"Those are...great shorts." He drawls, gone is the embarrassed act. Now he's freely eying her shorts clad body, eyes hot as they trail up and down her legs.
Shaking her head she smiles at him, "You never answered my question. What are you doing here?" He struts over to her prying her gym bag from her hand and throwing it over his free shoulder. She tries not to get too affected by his sudden closeness, his cologne filling her nostrils with the fresh earthy musk.
"My gym is here. I came to work out. You look like you had the same idea, you should have called me." There he goes again, making space for himself in her life although he has no intention of staying with her. It was cruel and she knows she should cut him off before it's too late.
"I don't think you'll be interested in what I'm doing." She answers walking ahead, holding the gym door open for him. They both show their card to the attendant at the front and the young worker smiles at her before saying, "Your aerial yoga class will be starting in five minutes. It's best to go early and secure a good spot."
She can see Vincenzo's questioning face in her peripheral but she ignores him to nod at the younger woman, tugging her bag off his shoulder and nodding at him in dismissal.
"Enjoy your work out." She climbs the stairs leading to the huge studio where the aerial classes are held. His eyes are like lasers on her back and she already knows that he's going to follow her, he's too intrigued to stay away. That's what she was banking on.
She would get him back for all his jealous tantrums this past week. There were so many places they were probably going to be banned from and all because he didn't know how to play well with others. She's wasn't some toy he could claim. Especially when she couldn't claim him back.
Finding a spot in the corner she puts her bag down on one of the mats that are provided, taking a few moments to do some light stretches. She bends over touching her toes before dipping her head and elongating her neck, then she does a few squats and jumping jacks just to get her blood pumping and her heart racing.
She can feel the exact moment that he comes, it also helps that all the women gasp and she can hear coy giggles about their new guest. She pretends not to notice him, stretching backwards into a perfect handstand holding it for a few minutes before tilting back and planting her feet until she's upright again. She almost loses her composure when she catches his expression in the large windows.
He looks shocked and aroused, neck redder than normal.
All the women settle down when the instructor comes to the front of the room, they have reached the point where he no longer shows them what to do instead he walks around the room correcting their form and giving tips or words of encouragement.
He's a beautiful man, with mocha colored skin and a lean muscled build and the most gorgeous head of coily hair. She has been coming here for months and they've become quite closer as they have a lot in common, most importantly they both love men. When they had run into each other and realized they were staring at the same guy's ass, it was love at first ogle.
When he comes over to greet her she immediately steps into his space with a mischievous grin. Sean grins back looking exasperated already but he still says, "What are you up to? I know that smile Ms. Cha-young." She leans closer certain that Vincenzo is avidly watching her every move. Trailing a finger up his thick bicep she whispers, "Nine o clock, don't look but I need your help to teach him a lesson. Are you up to it?"
Sean starts to turn his head before processing her order and stopping, he stares at her before a devilish look gleams in his bright eyes too.
"You know I'm always up." He replies voice full of innuendos and she fake swoons, bringing her hand to her forehead. "Don't tease me."
He chuckles at her before walking back to the front of the room, none of the other women react to their flirtations used to their antics and everyone already knows that Sean is as gay as the pride flag. Everyone except one fuming Italian.
She can feel his waves of anger crashing across the room and she tugs at the cloth in front of her testing the weight before easily hoisting herself up, letting it cup her bottom as her feet dangle.
She's ready to put on a show.
He hadn't stalked her per se, he'd merely overheard one of the tenants say that they'd seen Cha-young in a nearby studio on weekends so he'd went to see if she really did go there. And then there she was bent over in her car, pert little bottom sticking out the car and he wanted nothing more than to smack the flesh and watch it bounce and jiggle under his hand.
This was why he was so protective, not jealous. Protective. She was too careless with her body and there were salacious men out there ready to take advantage of that, she needed someone like him who had a pure heart to look out for her.
He was allowed to fantasize about spanking her while having a pure heart, it was called having duality.
So he'd followed her into the gym, a little peeved when she abandoned him without a word to attend something called "aerial yoga", he knew regular yoga and if it was anything like that he was very much interested.
In watching her do it.
Turning to the young worker who had been staring a hole in his face, he sent her a charismatic smile before leaning nonchalantly on the counter, he could tell that he had her full attention by the way her mouth fell open.
He almost felt bad, she seemed a bit wet behind the ears. But he wasn't really trying to seduce her so it was fine, he wasn't some old creepy predator.
"Hey, that aerial yoga class am I allowed to watch it? I want to see if it's something I might be interested in." He lies to the younger woman, watching her process his words before answering.
"Well technically that class is restricted for those who signed up..." She trails off looking at him and he smiles brightly, pushing his curly hair off his forehead he had forgo his products today and the way her eyes follow his fingers make him thankful that he did so. "But you won't do any harm by watching, I'm sure it'll be fine. Go on up." She finishes and he throws a mental fist pump, he still had it.
Outwardly he smiles serenely, thanking her before walking up the stairs that Cha-young just disappeared up. It leads to a spacious studio with a wall of gleaming mirrors and huge bay windows overlooking the city. He looks around before his eyes land on her, the reason why he's here.
He swallows a groan as he watches her stretch that slim gently curvy body, she's all smooth lines and feminine appeal. When she starts squatting he can't help but watch those firm cheeks tensing and tightening, he lazily leans back hungrily watching her.
Then he almost swallows his tongue when she bends backwards into a perfect bridge before lifting herself into a handstand, damn she was strong and deliciously flexible. Looking her in the eye was going to be even more difficult now.
His heckles raise when he sees another man approaching her suddenly, a Black man who seems way too familiar with his Cha-young based on the way they both grin and invade the others space. He sneers as he watches them whisper and grin at each other, who was this guy and why were they so close? He releases a sigh of relief when the man finally backs up, going to the front of the room before pressing a button and light soothing music begins to play.
He must be the instructor then. Wonderful. He prays that was the end of the unnecessary touching and standing too close to his lawyer. He doesn't want to have to make a scene.
It isn't the end. Not by a long shot.
The instructor who had introduced himself as Sean easily walked around, stopping every once in a while to correct someone or praise them for having good form. The ladies would preen and thank him and that was it, he would nod before moving on.
Cha-young was the only exception to this rule.
He watches mesmerized as the limber lawyer bends herself into a graceful pose that resembles a swan and he can't fight the images that start flashing in his mind of them in bed, her twisting around him with pieces of cloth. Tying him up and showing him just how flexible she is all night long until they both sore and sated.
When she suddenly releases the cloth and starts tumbling to the ground he finds himself jumping into action shoving the fantasy to the crevice of his mind, legs already moving to catch her before she saves herself with her ankles, her body swinging freely with her face only inches from the floor. His heart skips a beat before it starts chugging along again.
Why was she always worrying him?
"That was perfect Cha-young! You've finally let go of your fear of falling!" Sean praises her walking over and patting her legs, but he doesn't let go after the quick touch. He keeps those grabby hands on her thigh and helps her back up onto the cloth, he thinks that will be the end of it. He's wrong.
He moves her body into a new pose with the cloth wrapped around her shoulder and he glares when a hand runs down her back precariously close to her bottom before rolling back up. He pushes her gently on the cloth harness and she laughs gleefully before she whispers something to the instructor, it's hard to read her lips from this distance but he can make out, "with me."
He understands what she asked for when Sean nods and moves into position.
Sean wraps his arms around the same cloth and suddenly lifts himself off the ground, his face level with her groin and he wants to go over and rip the cloth from the ceiling and strangle the man with it. Then Sean pulls himself up and Cha-young slides out of her seated position, grabbing the cloth too until they're face to face and spinning in lazy hypnotic circles. They both have huge grins on their faces as they move together in perfect harmony, the last straw comes when she wraps her legs around his waist and their bodies are pressed together- he sees blazing red and disconcerting white and then finally pitch black.
He's fleeing before he's even aware of it. Bounding down the stairs, two steps at a time then shoving the entrance door open and letting the surge of cool air ease his anger. If he stayed another second the instructor would be dangling out the window much like that thug before except he wasn't sure if he would be able to pull him back up.
Why was he so anger? She'd looked fine, happy even. She clearly wasn't being taken advantage of. But his rage is bursting at the seams and he jolts when a hand suddenly grips his wrist. Instinctively he turns grabbing the person and slamming them into the nearby wall.
Cha-young looks up at him, face flushed and sweaty.
That will also be burned into his retina.
"You should know better than to sneak up on me." He warns taking deep breaths to suppress some of the frustration he feels looking at her, the memory still fresh in his mind.
"What's wrong with you?" She counters bringing her hands to his shoulders rubbing in a calming motion, "You look pissed. Did something happen?"
He watches her for a second, taking her in seemingly harmless question and recalls her legs wrapped around another man who wasn't him and he wants to punch that fucking handsy instructor right in his smug fac--
Wait.
She was smiling. No, smirking. Right up at him like she knew everything that was racing through his head.
He'd been played.
"Did you have fun?" He asks voice laced with snarkiness and he shoves her harder into the wall, red hot fury brewing in the pit of his stomach. She knew that he was part of the mafia but still acted like this. Did she not have any sense of self preservation?
"Were you jealous?" She asks in a ostentatiously cutesy voice like this is all a hilarious joke and he wants to kiss that damn smug look right off her face. No one has ever dared to treat him like this, acted like he was a joke.
She's playing with fire and he's not opposed to burning her up.
"Do you still think you have the upper hand right now?" He looms over her pushing his pelvis into her and she squeaks at the hardness that pokes into her. To his surprise she eagerly presses back, pulling him in by his waist until they are flushed chest to chest. He doesn't know if an upper hand exists anymore.
"Yes. I do, getting to see you jealous was the highlight of my day. Cute little jealous mafia lawyer."
He snarls at her feeling stupid because of how easily she can play him, and without thinking he wraps his arms around her.
"You looked really cozy with him."
She sniffs before pouting at him, "Yeah and you didn't fight for me at all. Where were the death threats and cold glares? Sean would have pissed his pants." Her giggles only make him angrier because she's seen through him all along.
He stares at her blankly before throwing caution to the wind and leaning down to capture her tempting lips, he runs a hand through her ponytail tugging her head closer to him and she moves easily with him standing on her tiptoes. He closes his eyes ready to put himself out of his misery when he feels a finger in his lips, he blinks his eyes open staring at her perplexed and a bit offended.
"What?"
"Are you staying in Korea?" She talks over him, her finger firm on his mouth.
They both stare at each other and her question spins in his busy mind, thoughts too full of her seductive moves earlier and how badly he wanted to destroy anyone who dared to look at her. He doesn't know why that question is coming up now, at this particular moment when he just wants to kiss her breathless. They can leave the rational thoughts for later, right now there should be more frenzied kissing. But when he tries to push her finger away she grabs his face hard, adamant.
He stares at her and finally he sees the chinks in her armor, gone is the overly confident Cha-young that he's so used to seeing and there's something softer in that stead, the vulnerability that always shrouds over her eyes when they have this reoccurring conversation is back and it leaves him feeling cornered as it always does.
He can't answer that question. The answer should be easy and it had been before her. He was going to take his gold and get the fuck out of this God forsaken country.
That had been the plan pre: Cha-young.
Now that plan was muddled and he could admit that he was jealous of other men stealing her away from him, at least to himself. Could admit that he wanted to wreck her completely, have her screaming in his bed those nimble limbs wrapped around him as he thrust into her over and over and over. But he wasn't ready to admit that he might feel something more than just intense attraction to her. That she had changed all his plans and made him consider settling down, with her. It was insane, he barely knew her and they weren't even in a relationship.
"No. I told you, I'm leaving."
He's a coward. He can admit that too.
She sends him a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes before ducking under his arms.
"Then leave and don't confuse me. I'm not yours to get jealous over. I'll see you Monday."
She doesn't look back, walking straight to her car and speeding away without checking any of her mirrors as she's wont to do despite him constantly reprimanding her for it, he's certain she's over the speed limit.
He punches the wall with a yell, the pain in his fist nothing compared to the pain in his chest. It was a huge mistake coming back here.
90 notes · View notes