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mellowswriting · 4 years ago

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Sweet but Fierce S/O

**some of these are more blurbs than headcanons... what can I say, it got away from me

Mando:

The duality is something Mando sees often with you, and he can’t deny that he loves it. You aren’t just sweet and soft with him, an experienced bounty hunter who by definition was the opposite of soft, but you were so good with the Child. You could get him to sleep like you had cast a spell over him, fed and played and talked with him as if you could actually understand his babbling. Soft and sweet wasn’t something Mando saw often in his life and now he can’t get enough of it.

But Mando is familiar with fierce, and seeing the way you protect the Child and his beskar-clad father? It honestly turns him on beyond comprehension. How can the same hands that provide comfort and care so readily also viciously break the bones in the wrist of someone unfortunate enough to have made a grab for the Child? How can the same hands that make warm, delicious food for your little clan (a habit you picked up after balking at Mando’s tendency to survive solely on ration bars) also steadily hold a blaster to the temple of an idiot who tried to remove Mando’s helmet?

As a Mandalorian, he is so used to the world being black and white, either or. Every bit of you is refreshing to him - the considerate gestures, the soothing touches, the biting need to protect those you love. It’s a precious quality.

It’s also incredibly attractive. Mandalorian culture is based in caring for and protecting children, so seeing you so fiercely loving?? Basically it makes him want to rail you into oblivion, but that’s neither here nor there.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales:

Frankie could use a little sweetness in his life. It’s been a tough time, coming back from all that shit that went down in South America. He was closer than ever with the boys of course, but something was missing. He needed something more. So when Pope introduced you to him at his barbeque, Frankie was beyond interested.

It was a whirlwind, falling in love with you. You changed his life in the best ways; taught him which yoga poses would help with his achy back, filled his house with soft blankets and delicious coffees, listened to him ramble on as he drove. And the way you talked about your work, your career? It’s enamoring.

Your work is how he gets to see that fierce side. The two of you were out to lunch when your phone rang - it was one of your clients, apparently dealing with some sort of crisis. Frankie couldn’t deny you when you asked him to drive you to her home, especially since he had driven you to the small restaurant. Frankie leans against his car door as you go up to her house.

Apparently her landlord was illegally trying to evict her. You have no issue getting in his face and telling him with a terrifying kind of calm that you have no issue calling the police and your company’s lawyers. You’ll have him buried in litigation and fines for the next decade if he doesn’t stop being a greedy piece of shit and go about his day elsewhere. If that wasn’t enough to have Frankie wide eyed (and drooling just a bit tbh), you seem to fall right back into your sweet self as you calm your client and reassure her that all will be fine.

Hell, maybe Frankie could use a little spitfire in his life, too.

Javier Peña:

How? Just. How?

Javier doesn't understand how you've managed to be so sweet when surrounded by the shit you both worked with everyday. Your eyes are so bright and soft, your smiles easy and pure, every gesture full of unwavering kindness. Working in admin meant you saw all of the reports, all of the gruesome pictures of the aftermath of Escobar’s men. So again: how?

Christ, you always offer to get coffees for him and Murphy on those endlessly long days where every lead seems to fizzle out and he wants nothing more than to put his hand through a wall. Your presence is a bright spot in the office, even when the rain clouds hang heavy around his head.

Javier seeks you out on those bad days. It isn’t intentional - usually, at least. He’ll tell Murphy he needs to go for a walk before he starts throwing things and will find himself at your desk with you looking up at him with those big, soft eyes and asking if you can help at all. If only he had the words to tell you that your presence was helpful in and of itself.

Eventually Murphy gets onto him about it, tells him to just ask you out already because he’s tired of the longing. So Javi bucks up and makes his way to your desk with a surprising amount of nerves in his stomach. Fuck, how long had it been since he asked someone on an actual date and not just out to drinks as a prelude to fucking?

The sight of Agent Buchanan perched slightly on the edge of your desk gives him pause. The man is obviously laying on the charm and Javi is about to turn on his heel when he notices how uncomfortable you look. Javi’s eyes narrow because seriously? This dude is gonna fuck with the one literal ray of sunshine in the office? Buchanan leans forward and places his hand on your thigh and that’s when Javier is marching forward to break his spine in fucking half…

Before he can even get to you, you slip your fingers under his and give him that soft, sweet smile… and Buchanan’s middle finger is shoved back at a vicious angle. Over his pained sounds, Javier can hear the anger in your voice. “I said no thank you, asshole.”

Holy fuck. If Javier was interested before, he’s downright obsessed now.

And as always, the honorable mention of Javier’s innocence kink.

Ezra:

At first Ezra thinks it's some sort of bluff, the charming and easygoing nature you portrayed. When you came across him in the Green wounded and in dire need of a new filter and probably a meal or two, you just… helped him. His very own partner left him for dead, and here you were, offering him a lifeline without expecting anything in return.

Yeah, no. That’s not something that happens, especially not in the Green.

He isn’t afraid to call you on it, either. This man is straight and to the point in every aspect of his life, might as well do the same in his death instead of getting jerked around. But you just… grinned, all conspiratorial, and whispered, “I’m actually just using you for good karma. This is a selfish act, don’t worry.”

Huh.

It takes Ezra a moment to be assured that you aren’t playing some kind of long con as you nurse him back to health. You still clean his wounds and force him to take medication to help his lungs recover from the toxic air with confidence and ease despite his untrusting looks. Once he gets over his fears, there’s no getting rid of him. Ezra likes you. He likes the sweetness, the gentle touches. That’s why he offers you his partnership and beams when you accept.

Besides simply liking you, your kindness is a rarity that sparks a deep need in Ezra to keep you safe, protected. The idea of you harvesting on your own with no one to watch your back makes him feel sick to his stomach.

It’s the third day he’s out harvesting with you that he realizes you absolutely do not need his protection. You hear the duo approaching before Ezra does and immediately shove him into the raised, gnarled roots behind a tree - and the shot that would’ve caught him in the chest flies harmlessly past. Before Ezra can tell you to stay put and let him handle it, you’re scrambling out from behind the tree and he can hear the sound of your thrower discharging and a body crumpling to the ground.

Ezra shoots out to help but you’re trying to wrestle the other man to the ground and Kevva damnit, he can’t get a clear shot with all that writhing about. Just as he goes to jump into the mix, whatever hold you have on the man straightens his arm out behind his back in a harsh, unforgiving line. The man’s thrower slips from his incapacitated hand and the sight of you snatching up midair and firing it right through his helmet has to be the most erotic thing Ezra has ever seen.

You can expect this man to wax poetic about the twofold of your personality for hours. Goes on and on about how he loves seeing the different ways you light up: in passion, in pleasure, in anger. It’s downright titillating.

Marcus Pike:

Working with you gives leaves Marcus in the perfect position to see both sides. You’re so compassionate with the victims as you guide them through the legal processes but you also look ridiculously hot with a gun in your hand. Or while you pull on your bulletproof vest. Or when you’re strapping a holster to your thigh.

What can he say, Marcus can’t get enough of you either way.

He loves when you give him that grateful smile when he brings you a coffee. The shoulder rubs you give him when he’s been sitting at his desk for too long leave him hazy with a mix of love and pleasure. The way you open your arms up for him to crawl into bed, still half asleep but still wanting him against you… it was pure heaven.

Marcus also loves the hard edge in your voice when you’re interrogating a suspect. He loves the fire in your eyes when he wraps a hand around your throat and growls out exactly what he’s going to do to you, that bratty energy radiating off you and filling him with the need to break you down until he gets to see the pretty, begging glimmer of his sweet little thing again.

Max Phillips:

Max is the kind of man who loves having a pretty, wide eyed thing beneath him, watching their face morph into that surprised pleasure. That’s exactly what he’s gonna get from you, too. He just knows it.

You’re the kind of person everyone loves working with, always offering a smile and kind words throughout the day. You work so hard and so diligently, that work ethic is something that leaves you offering your assistance when you’ve finished up before closing time. Max thrives on those moments where you peek into his office and ask if there’s anything he needs - maybe a coffee or some help with some paperwork.

One day he decides, fuck it. Throws caution to the wind because hey, this is Max fucking Phillips we’re talking about here. So he waves you in when you pop by, lets you sit in one of the chairs on the other side of his desk, and whispers “You can help by bending that pretty little ass over my desk.”, his hands braced on either armrest.

The last thing Max expects is a harsh smack across his face. He stumbles back, eyes wide as you stand and glare at him. “Go fuck yourself, Phillips.”

Okay, yeah. He deserved that. The great thing about him, though? Max also loves the chase. And what could be better than slowly but surely convincing you that the best thing for you is letting him rail you into oblivion?

Pero Tovar:

Before he sees that fierce side of you, Pero keeps his distance. He’s a sellsword for god’s sake, he feels he has no business around such softness. He’ll hurt you, he’s sure of it. But that doesn’t stop him from looking. Pero often sees you in the market and every time, you take his breath away. You could usually be found aiding an elder in gathering their shopping into their carts or kneeling down to speak with the local children running amok.

As a man who spent his life surrounded by battle and hardship, it was a nice change.

It wasn’t long until he caught your eye, and Pero floundered. He didn’t know what to do with that first small gesture - he just stared at you when you offered him a small bundle of cheeses and meat to aid him on his two month long journey he was about to set off on. Of course he later cursed himself for the stunned silence he offered in response to your well wishes and the small wave you gave before you left him standing like a fool next to his horse.

Pero would thank you properly when he returned, that was the resolve he came to while away. You deserved to hear the words at the very least. He takes a moment to clean up before he sets out to find you, not wanting you to see him covered in grime, and as always, he spots you within moments of entering the village. Except something is… off. Your face through the shop window lacks it’s usual brightness, your eyebrows pinched together, something akin to fear replacing the brightness your eyes usually held. That’s when Pero realizes there’s a man holding a dagger to the shopkeeper and demanding the man's coin.

By the time Pero has his own dagger in hand and shoves through the door, the man is already crumpling to the ground from the harsh kick you landed at the back of his knee. Pero watches in awe as you take advantage of his confusion to snatch the blade from his hand and point it at him with your foot pressed firm to his back.

Despite just how amazing you look like that, Pero takes over quickly, wanting you out of harm’s way immediately. The assailant is taken care of after a small struggle and when you rush towards him to make sure he isn’t hurt, a fire lights in his belly. As you fret over him, your soft hands searching for any harm to his scarred, calloused skin, Pero knows. He’s found his person, he can feel it in his gut, deep in his bones.

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softyoongiionly · 5 years ago

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Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Sixteen

(GIF does not belong to me, my friend sent it to me over text! If anyone knows who made it, please let me know :) )

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, College! Yoongi, Sub! Yoongi

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: the love I have for this man is absolutely ridiculous. I have missed this series so much. I hope you love what I’ve done with the place ;) This is such an important chapter that I’ve been planning for the longest time. I hope you like it and, if you do: please please let me know!

NOTE: ALL BOLDED WORDS INDICATE WHEN CHARACTERS ARE SPEAKING KOREAN

Warnings for this Chapter: ok here we go...(TRIGGER WARNING)

minor angst, mentions of anxiety, mentions of criminal activity, mentions of bad parenting and abuse, mentions of trauma and related consequences, language, drug use, smut (holy heck the smut is ALOT).

Chapter Sixteen: The Past and The Present

You’ve never seen Yoongi angry before

Frustrated? Yes.

Annoyed? Often.

Stressed? Aren’t we all?

But, never angry.

He is pissed and, he has a perfectly good reason to be.

A short phone call from his dear friend Sejin left him flushed and furious.

The reason being? Sejin has just informed Yoongi that due to a recent rent increase, Sejin can no longer afford to keep SoundCrowd open.

“We’re going to figure this out ok? This isn’t over. I’ll talk to you later...”

The two of you had been watching a movie when he called and, your finger finally moves from the pause button as he hangs up his call.

You don’t think you’re going to be finishing it tonight.

“Yoongi-“

“What the fuck?” His voice is sharp, the fury clear in his rhetorical question as he turns to you, “What the fuck?”

Your hand twitches with the urge to touch him, to soothe him in some way but, Yoongi pushes himself off the couch by the time you try.

“I- I’ve been going to that building for 10 years. Sejin always pays his rent on time, he won’t even eat sometimes just to make sure his bills are paid and, this?? This is how they repay him? Are they serious? How can they just kick him to the side like this? What is he supposed to do? Fu- fuck what am I supposed to do?” Yoongi exhales, raking a hand through his hair as he seems to search helplessly around the room for answers.

Yoongi was supposed to work for Sejin after he graduated.

“Babe, I’m so sorry I- his landlord can’t just do that right? That doesn’t make any sense.” You offer, biting your lip as a humorless laugh leaves Yoongi’s lips.

“Of course he can, that’s what people like him do right? They gotta make their money. Who gives a shit about this guy and his livelihood? As long as he’s filling his pockets and, collecting his checks- he doesn’t give a single fuck about people like Seijin.”

Yoongi is blistering.

He isn't raising his voice at you but, the intensity of his emotions is getting the better of him.

“This isn’t right. There’s gotta be something we can do to help him, we can talk to Jin maybe? His dad’s a lawyer and-”

“I have to go. I’m gonna go down there and, see if I can talk to the landlord. I have money in savings, I don’t know- maybe he’ll take a bribe or something.” Yoongi interrupts you, completely disregarding your presence all together as he starts to grab his keys.

You don’t want to admit it but, his behavior is hurting your feelings.

You know he’s upset and, you want to respect that but, he’s closing himself off.

Just like he used to...

“Well, let me get my shoes on and I’ll come. You shouldn’t go alone and you shouldn’t have to pay this asshole off. We just need to-”

“I don’t need your help Y/N.” Yoongi’s tone is final, leaving no room for negotiation as his words hit you right in the gut, “I’ll text you later. I’m sorry about the movie.”

With your mouth parted in shock, all you can do is nod as your boyfriend disappears through your front door.

You can honestly say it’s the first time that Yoongi’s ever hurt your feelings.

Like, really really hurt your feelings.

Like, now you’re crying on the couch thinking about why you just became the scapegoat for his frustration.

It’s normal for people to get short when they are upset but, you can’t seem to understand why he treated you that way.

You thought you were passed all of this but apparently, you were wrong.

Part of you is telling yourself not to take it personally.

Whilst the other part of you is wondering why he’s still shutting you out.

Even after everything you’ve been through...

You decide to give him some space.

He’s only human.

Sometimes, we need time to process things on our own.

The sinking feeling in your stomach doesn’t leave you though and, you try and busy yourself with a few household chores before eventually succumbing to the sadness you feel and crying again.

It be like that.

You sent him a text shortly after he left that read:

You: I’m sorry if I pushed a little too hard. Please let me know if/when you need anything. I love you.

He still hasn’t responded.

In an effort to thwart the flurry of emotions in your heart, you end up falling asleep on the couch, hoping that he would respond by the time you wake up.

Instead, you are awoken by him calling you.

“Hello?” You can hear the grogginess in your voice and, Yoongi picks up on it immediately.

“Did I wake you?”

“Yeah, sorry I took a little nap after I cleaned up.”

Your hand is over your mouth as you cover up the sound of your yawn whilst Yoongi rushes out his reply.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I can’t believe I talked to you like that. I’m r-really sorry. I was so angry and I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” His voice is tighter as if he’s staving off his emotions and, it makes you wanna cry a little bit, “Then I just left? I feel like such a dick...I just didn’t know what to do. I just wanted to go and, I wasn’t thinking.”

“I get it, you just found out some really shitty news. I don’t blame you for being angry at all but, it-” You take a deep breath, attempting to reign in your hurt a little bit before continuing, “it did hurt that you just left like that. I would have given you space if you needed it, I just wish you would have told me instead of shutting me out.”

You can hear him sniffle on the other end of the line.

He’s a little devasted that he hurt you but, he isn’t going to make that the focal point of this conversation.

He just wants to make it right.

“You’re right. I’m so sorry jagiya. I just freaked out...”He sniffles again, the rawness in his voice apparent, “I’m still freaking out and instead of letting you support me, I left and now I feel like an idiot.”

You wipe your eyes, nodding throughout the duration of his sentence, “You're not an idiot at all. I’m still here and, I’m willing to figure this out with you. I just need you to let me ok? I want to help. Where are you right now?”

“I’m at my house. I talked to Sejin for awhile and, I guess he said the landlord is coming by next week to discuss the contract with him. He asked me to be there as a witness and, if you’re alright with it, I would really like it if you came too...”

“Of course.” You smile softly, “Do you want-”

“Can you come over?” Yoongi’s voice cracks finally as you hear him break down on the other end of the line.

Your heart follows suit as you immediately stand up and, head to your bedroom.

“I’m on my way.”

----------------

“Come here.” You whisper as your boyfriend opens his bedroom door, pulling him against your chest.

He’s dressed in a hoodie and his boxers, his hair completely disorganized due to the amount of time he’s probably messed with it.

“Jagi, I’m really sorry.” He’s all choked up when he buries his face in your neck and, you’re quick to rub tenderly at his lower back.

“Hey- I forgive you ok? Everyone has their moments baby, don’t be so hard on yourself.” You kiss the side of his face, kicking the door shut before ushering him towards the bed.

“I’m so scared...” He’s whispering now, his voice barely audible as he seems to cling onto the material of your t-shirt, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I don’t know how I’m gonna help him.”

Tilting his chin, you level with him, “We’re going to go there next week and, talk to this guy and, see what we can work out. The city instituted a law three months ago stating that rent increases have to be preapproved by the tenant, the landlord and, the property association. That’s what I was trying to tell you before you left.”

Yoongi winces, sighing as he shakes his head, “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I just-” He glances towards you, a bit of apprehension in his eyes, “I’m not used to having someone around when shit like this goes down. I’m still really bad at relying on people and trusting them with my feelings. All I wanted to do was cry and, I didn’t want you to see that.”

Placing a hand on his, you attempt to lock eyes with him, “Yoongi, I’m your girlfriend. I love you and, I’m not just in this for the good times. I’m in this for the bad times too. I get that it’s your instinct to close yourself off and handle things yourself but, if you want support I’m always here for you.”

Yoongi pulls you in for a hug then, tucking his face into your neck. He takes a deep breath but, he says nothing.

He just holds you.

The silence is natural and holds no expectation.

You’d hug him all night if he needed you to.

Finally, Yoongi does speak and although he could pour his heart out to you right now, he decides to stick with the words that mean the most.

“I love you too.”

The two of you end up falling asleep together shortly after that.

Yoongi’s head is on your chest and the sensation of running your fingers through his hair is enough to lull you into a comfortable slumber.

Despite the stress of the day, you both sleep through the night.

Sleeping next to Yoongi brings you an immense amount of comfort.

It just feels right.

You wish you could sleep next to him every night.

The next morning when you awake, you realize very quickly that you’re alone.

Yoongi doesn’t appear to be anywhere in sight and in your slightly worried state, you decide to stumble out of bed to look for him.

“I can pick up for you if you want, you look like shit.”

“Thanks, that’s exactly what I wanna hear right now.”

“You know what I mean. Hyung, she’s not gonna care, I don’t know why you’re freaking out about this.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No I don’t but, it’s Y/N. She’s doesn’t come across as the judgmental type. I do think it’s kinda weird you haven’t told her yet though, that might be the only thing she’ll have an issue with...”

“That’s why I’m worried. I feel like after everything we’ve been through, I should have been able to tell her this by now...”

“Why haven’t you?”

“I don’t like talking about it.”

“The weed or your parents?”

“Both. I mean, I don’t know- the weed isn't that bad I guess but, I don’t want her to feel like I lied to her you know?”

“You didn’t lie. You guys just started dating. I’m sure there are plenty of things that you don’t know about her.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of- I feel like everything is always about me. I feel like I never ask about her...”

You know it’s wrong to eavesdrop but, you feel frozen in place, compelled by your own curiosity.

You have a million questions running through your head.

“I have to think about Sejin right now. I’ll smoke later on after I’ve had a chance to talk with her or something. I don’t know. She’s probably up right now, I should go check on her.”

“Take care Hyung, let me know if you need anything.”

Yoongi makes good on his plans to check on you and, thankfully you make it back to the bedroom before he realizes that you were listening in on his conversation.

The rest of the morning goes as planned.

After grabbing coffee, Yoongi heads to SoundCrowd to ensure that Sejin doesn’t have an eviction notice on his door.

He doesn’t say much on the drive there; he merely holds your hand tightly on the center console, occasionally brushing his thumb over the back of your knuckles.

It’s a little unnerving and the confrontational part of you wishes to break the silence but, you decide that now isn't really the time to bring up Yoongi’s conversation with Hoseok.

Thankfully, Sejin’s door remains free of an eviction notice and, Yoongi visibly lets out a sigh of relief at the sight.

You’re assuming the text he begins sending is to Sejin but, you don’t allow your gaze to linger long enough to find out.

Upon pulling away from the studio, he lets out a breathy sigh before finally speaking up

“What are you doing this weekend?”

You cock your head, “This weekend as in tomorrow? Or this weekend as in next weekend?”

Yoongi’s lips twitch at your question, “This weekend as in tomorrow.”

“I was just planning on getting everything ready for graduation. I have a tenant coming to look at my apartment in three weeks so I figured I should probably attempt to scrub the spaghetti stain off the back of the fridge...”

He chuckles warmly and shakes his head, “Aside from explaining how you managed to get spaghetti on the back of the fridge, I was wondering if you wanted to uh- go somewhere with me.”

“Somewhere as in?”

“Daegu.”

Your heart skips a beat then, wondering exactly what brought on his sudden invitation.

With parted lips, you attempt to answer him immediately but, your words fail you.

Yoongi’s teeth find a spot on his lower lip whilst he pulls out of his parking spot.

He can sense your confusion and he knows he can’t get away with asking you back to his hometown without an explanation.

“I need to go see my brother. He-” Yoongi sighs, glancing toward you, “He might be able to help Sejin if I let him know what’s going on.”

This only adds to your list of questions but, thankfully your brain hones in on the key part of this conversation:

“You want me to meet your brother?”

Yoongi hears the sincerity in your tone and it pulls his attention towards you.

“I do. If you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

Squeezing his hand a little tighter, you nod, a small smile forming on your lips, “I’m more than comfortable with it. I would love to meet your brother. When were you planning on leaving?”

Yoongi’s heart sings with your acceptance but, the only evidence of this is a small smile that emerges on his lips.

“I was gonna leave tomorrow. My brother has uh- he has miles on this airline I can use and, theres more than enough for you too. I know it’s last minute but-”

“I love last minute.” You cut him off, clasping your hands together, “I just need to go back to my apartment to pack and feed Marizpan. I’ll text Jimin and let him know that I’ll be gone this weekend. Does your brother like anything from our area? Should we bring him something?”

Yoongi’s raspy laughter fills the confines of the car as he shakes his head, “I should have known that you’d be down for this kind of thing. If I was in your position, I’d be having a heart attack right now.”

You smile at the sound of his laugh, “Oh I’m sure the panic will set in shortly. But honestly, I’m more focused on the fact that you want me to meet your brother. It means a lot to me that you want me there.”

He squeezes your hand again and, you take a moment to admire the way he looks while he’s driving. Messy black hair, eyes slightly puffy from all the emotion, lips in desperate need of chapstick (and a kiss) and, his long spindly fingers carefully handling the wheel.

He’s truly out of this world.

“It means a lot that you want to be there.” He retorts but, there is something amiss within his gaze and you can’t help but remember the conversation you overheard earlier.

There is a beat or two of silence before the two of you break it at the exact same time.

“There’s something I-”

“Hey I-”

“Wait you go first.”

“No, I’m sorry. You go...” You insist, your heartrate picking up uncomfortably in your chest.

Yoongi sighs, dark eyes flitting over to you once or twice before he seems to hyperfocus on the road in front of him.

“There’s something, well- there are a few things I need to tell you before we go.”

Upon glancing away from him and back towards the streets in front of you, you notice that he’s heading towards your apartment.

Part of you is glad that the two of you don’t have to separate for the duration of the weekend but, another (larger) part is very nervous about the information Yoongi has yet to share.

Yoongi takes your silence as an invitation to continue but, he doesn’t exactly know where to start.

“There’s kind of a lot that you don’t know about me. It’s nothing I’ve hid intentionally but, I was waiting until it made sense to tell you I guess...” He rakes a free hand through his hair before a rather noticeable tightness arrests his features, “My brother is the only member of my family I still talk to but, it’s not just because they don’t approve of my music.”

You keep your hand firmly entangled with his and with the slight shift in his tone, you reassuringly thumb over his knuckles.

“Uh it’s kind of a lot to explain but- um...” His mouth hangs open as he hesitates between words. Despite the fact that you’re 2 minutes from your apartment, Yoongi looks eagerly at an alleyway, “I’m sorry, do you care if I pull over? I don’t think I can talk about this while I’m driving and, I just really need to get this out because, I’m kind of scared that you’re going to be mad at me and I-”

“Hey- hey...Yoongi it’s ok.You can pull over baby, there’s an alley right here.” You turn in your seat so you can get a proper look at him as he quickly zooms between the ramen shop and the liquor store.

You’ve never seen him look so nervous before and, it’s starting to freak you out a little bit.

He attempts to draw in a shaky breath through his nose as he hastily puts his car in park. For a moment, he seems to gather his thoughts, lips pursing in contemplation whilst he wipes a hand over his face.

At last, he turns slightly to unbuckle his seatbelt before he finally allows his eyes to flit to your face.

You shift again so you’re mostly turned towards him and squeeze his hand once more to encourage him to continue.

“My parents didn’t just kick me out because they found out I was doing music. They kicked me out because I refused to join the family business-” He gathers the courage to look you dead in the eye because, despite his fear, he knows you deserve that level of respect, “and the family business is the within the largest criminal empire Daegu has ever seen.”

Your heart seems to stall in your chest then, your throat drying up with shock as you attempt to take in what he’s saying.

He brings your hand closer to him, wishing desperately that he could guarantee your presence after his explanation.

But he knows he can’t.

“My parents run a counterfeit operation that basically operates as a gang. They don’t call themselves that but that’s what it is. They produce fake currency, participate in insider trading, they steal, they lie, they’ve-” He swallows, subconciously bringing your hand closer to him once again, “-killed. When I turned 15, my father told me that I’d have to start training to take over but, after everything I had seen. I knew I didn’t want to.”

“When I told you my parents kicked me out, I wasn’t lying but, I didn’t exactly tell you the whole story. I told you that when they found my lyrics, they freaked out on me, which they did but, it was only after they had spent 6 months trying to bribe me into training.” He licks his lips, his eyes still trained on you as they try and decipher the thoughts running through your head. The truth is, your mind is completely blank at the moment.

“They bought me everything I wanted: cars, clothes, jewelry, they had another wing added to our house for me; they tried everything. I was considering it for a while, my parents didn’t start their operations until I was 9 or 10. I spent the first decade of my life in poverty until things began to turn around. At the time, I didn’t know why but, I figured it out when I was starting high school. My parents had gone insane with power. They got my entire family involved, even my brother. I didn’t blame them at the time; we were so poor our whole life and then suddenly we were rich. I didn’t want it to end but, then I realized- what the cost of our wealth really was.” Yoongi’s a bit breathless as the words just seem to tumble off of his tongue but, he’s unsure how coherent he really sounds.

Nevertheless, he continues.

He wants to get it over with already.

“One night, when I was sneaking back in through the front gates, I heard something that would solidify my choice.” Yoongi swallows, his hand tightening almost painfully within yours, “My parents must have been on the phone with one of their allies or something but all I heard was a direct order coming from my father ‘kill them all’ he said, ‘every single one of them.’ The next day when I woke up, my brother was shoving his phone in my face. It was a news article about a homicide in another district. I wanted to throw up. I knew it was them. He knew too. We shared this pain between us but, unlike my brother. I couldn’t keep quiet anymore. I had to say something.” His voice is growing unsteady with every passing word and although you have a million questions, all you want him to know is that you’re still here.

“When I confronted my father, he went crazy on me. He had been up for a few days, probably strung out on something and, he beat the shit out of me. That’s when he destroyed my lyrics. He left everything else untouched but my laptop and my pages. He wanted to hurt me in any way he could because, he knew that I wasn’t going to follow in his footsteps. He told me I should be ashamed of myself for accusing them of being involved with the murder but, Y/N-” He’s voice his hoarse now, his sad eyes lined red with emotion as he shoots a desperate look towards you, “It had to be them. It’s the only thing that made sense. After he was finished with me, he told me I had a choice. He said ‘Yoongi, you can either stay here and start contributing to this family or you can disappear with nothing but the clothes on your back.’ So I made my choice. I lived on the streets for awhile until my brother found me one night, he told me about Sejin and tried to set me up with some money but, I wouldn’t take anything from him. Every bit of money my family has, has blood on it. I accepted his offer to live at Sejin’s place and, every thing else I already told you that night at my studio but, I didn’t know how to tell you all of this...I tried to put it all behind me for so long but, now that Sejin is in trouble- I have to go back. My brother left the business too but, he took money with him. He’s loaded and, I know if he knew about Sejin, he’d want to help out. I don’t know- fuck please just tell me what you’re thinking. I know you’re probably mad at me and that’s completely ok- I just didn’t know how to tell you...”

You are honestly shocked by Yoongi’s confession but, you can’t say that you’re mad at him.

You understand that this extremely complicated.

You don’t think you’d necessarily want to share it either.

Looking at your boyfriend now, your heart breaks.

His expression is akin to a man completely torn apart. He looks lost, broken, frightened: everything you don’t want him to be.

You do what comes naturally because, words are not appropriate right now.

Dropping his hand intially alarms him but, when you lean across the center console to pull him against your chest, he can’t help but break down.

He cries.

No, he doesn’t cry- he sobs.

His hands come up to cling to you, the tension in his grip signifying that he’s desperately afraid of letting you go.

With each rigged intake of breath, Yoongi seems to cry harder into your neck, staining the color of your shirt with his tears.

“My life was so miserable Y/N. I didn’t know how to tell you how bad it was- my whole life. I’m sorry I was such a coward. I’m so sorry I- I didn’t know how to say it. I just wanted you to think I was normal.” He cries and with every word, you hold him tighter.

With every word, your heart breaks.

“You are not a coward Min Yoongi. You are the strongest person I know.” You whisper into his ear, teary eyed yourself as you do your best to hold it together.

“I’m so sorry jagiya...” Yoongi cries, his voice nearly dropping to a whisper, the nape of his neck slick with sweat due to the anxiety he feels.

He is still so terrified of losing you.

“You have nothing to be sorry for- look at me...” You command softly, guiding his face out of your neck and cupping it between your palms, “None of this is your fault. I understand why you wouldn’t want to tell me. This is a lot to take in but, baby this isn’t your burden to bear. You aren’t responsible for the choices your parents have made...”

“I don’t come from a good life Y/N. I come from such a horrible family. My family never showed me love, they never showed eachother love. They are bad people and, you deserve more than a man who comes from that. You deserve someone who has a normal family. You deserve more than me...”

“Yoongi, listen to me right now. You are the most incredible man I have ever met. You are smart and brave and selfless and clever and kind and so so special and, I’m not going to sit here and listen to you punish yourself for your parent’s mistakes. They had a beautiful son that they neglected. They created this warped version of yourself that apparently doesn’t deserve love and happiness but that’s bullshit ok?” You’re crying too now because, you want to drive this point home, you want him to know the truth, and believe it.

Everything starts to make sense now.

Yoongi resists affection because he doesn’t think he deserves it.

He’s denied himself happiness so long because, he doesn’t think he’s worth the trouble.

You need him to know that he is.

He’s worth so much more than he realizes.

“It’s such bullshit...” You repeat, kissing between his eyes which still flow steadily with tears, his breathing is still so uneven but, he’s hanging on every word you say, “You deserve everything you want. You deserve to be loved. I’m so sorry you had to live like that. I’m so sorry that they never told you how incredible you are but, that doesn’t make it any less true.”

His face crumbles under the weight of your words, his hands coming up to brush against the outside of yours, “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. It wasn’t intentional, you just made me forget how things used to be. I just wanted to pretend like it never happened.”

You understand that.

There are things in your life that you wish you could forget.

Yoongi eases so much of your troubles that you could empathize with his decision to brush all of this under the rug.

You’ve both been basking in the warm glow of your first love that it was easy to forget what life was like before one another.

But it doesn’t mean it never happened.

“The last I heard, my parents had slowed down a bit. They told my brother that they were starting to liquify their assets. I guess he’s getting quite a bit of money from that. It seemed less important when he told me that. I felt like maybe I could just move on but, I realized when I started dating you how much of it really stuck with me. Plus, I felt like I was lying to you. I never want to make you feel like I’m hiding things from you. The only other people that know about this are Namjoon and Hoseok and, Hoseok found out cause he overheard Namjoon and I talking about it.”

You lean forward once again to place a kiss between his eyes before pulling him back into your arms.

“I hear you. You’re not wrong for waiting to tell me. I’m just sorry you had to deal with all of this internal struggle. I think we forget that we’ve only been dating a few months because of how quickly we fell for eachother. There are things you don’t know about me too you know? Nothing as intense as being the offspring of two criminal masterminds buuuuut you know, still...”

Your attempt to slowly lighten the mood works as a small chuckle is felt within the crook of your neck along with the pinching of your hips.

“I want to know everything about you.” He murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist.

Kissing the side of his head, you smile, “It’s a good thing we have so much time then.”

This finally prompts a smile to appear on his face and, although you can’t see it, you can feel it.

“I love you so much.” Yoongi whispers, placing a kiss on the side of your neck

----------------------------------------

The two of you head back to Yoongi’s house shortly after you pack your things.

Yoongi doesn’t leave your side the entire time, other than to use your bathroom to wash his face and even then, he leaves the door open the whole time.

After your bags are ready to go, the two of you decide that staying at Yoongi’s place is best since he leaves a little closer to the airport.

Yoongi booked your flight whilst you were packing and managed to find a flight leaving at 1:20pm the next day.

He didn’t even look at earlier flights because, there is no way he’s getting up before 9am tomorrow, especially not after everything that’s happened today.

It’s not long before Yoongi is unlocking his front door and as he does, something new graces your senses.

It’s an unmistakeable smell and, immediately Yoongi’s eyes widen as he takes his first breath.

“Yah Hoseok?? Why does it smell like shit in my house?” Yoongi calls and leads you toward the living room.

“I told you I was picking up, and that smell is the sign I got the good shit! Come hit this hyung, its fucking gooood.” Hoseok calls back and immediately you start giggling

“Yeah Yoongi, go hit that.” You tease, his earlier conversation with Hoseok making a lot more sense now, “I didn’t know you smoked weed...”

“Did you tell your girlfriend yet or what?” Hoseok calls again and Yoongi’s cheeks are practically on fire at this point as he braves a glance towards you.

“No but you just did pabo...” Yoongi grumbles as he finally leads the two of you into the living room.

Hoseok and Namjoon are spread out on the couch, there eyes completely bloodshot, heavy with the evidence that they had been smoking for awhile. Namjoon chuckles lowly and shakes his head, “Yah, you’re so fucking loud. How do you have the energy to yell after how much we just smoked?” Namjoon smiles pleasantly at you, raising a hand politely, “Hi, Y/N. How are you?”

You smirk, putting your arm around Yoongi’s shoulders, “Hi guys. I’m good, I’d ask how the two of you were doing but, I think I have my answer.”

Yoongi groans before turning towards you quickly, tugging you so your body is pressed against his, “I was gonna tell you too but-”

“Before he starts groveling at your feet,” Namjoon interrupts, “He stopped smoking when he realized he liked you. He hasn’t done anything since because, he was worried that you wouldn’t like it. He was planning on telling you when he asked you to be his girlfriend, which was literally like a week ago so, I’m sure he was gonna tell you soon. But to answer your question, yes your boyfriend smokes weed. A lot of weed.”

Yoongi anxiously scans your face for any sign of disapproval but, all he gets is a tilted chin a kiss on his lips.

“Wow, you’re cute.”

He furrows his brows, “You’re not mad?”

You giggle as you shake your head, gesturing to the couch, “Yoongi, you’ve met my friends. Taehyung and Jungkook might as well change their names to Jay and Silent Bob...”

“Yooo that’s what I always say about Yoongi and I!” Hoseok cackles, as he points at you, the sound of his voice causing Namjoon to wince.

“Hoseok-ah, lower your voice, you’re ruining my high.” He chuckles before nodding to the table, “See? There you go Hyung, now come over here and smoke this shit with us, you look like you need it.”

Yoongi looks relieved but, he’s still apprehensive, “You promise you’re cool with it? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable...”

Another giggle leaves you lips as you start tugging him towards the couch, setting your bag on the kitchen counter, “It’s really sweet that you’ve considered my feelings in all of this but, smoking weed isn’t a big deal to me. My family smokes all the time. It’s just not for me because, I have baby lungs but, I have no issue with you smoking it.”

“Yahhh that’s good shit right there, see hyung? I told you she’d be chill with it. Now come sit down, I’ll pack a bowl for you.” Hoseok smiles, finally heeding Namjoon’s request and lowering his voice.

A small smile is on your boyfriend’s lips then as he looks towards you once again, “Love you...” He mumbles before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You nestle into the corner of their couch whilst Hoseok thoughtfully packs the clusters of weed into a solid black, glass pipe.

“Is that my piece?” Yoongi asks with an arched brow and Hoseok merely shrugs

“You havent been using it and this shit was expensive so Joon and I snagged it from you. You can have it back if you’re gonna start smoking again but other than that, I’m keeping it.”

“You can’t keep it, that was his birthday present.” Namjoon grumbles, playfully hitting Hoseok’s thigh.

Yoongi licks his lips as takes a spot next you, mindlessly rubbing his hand over your bended knee, “I want it either way. Don’t take my shit.” He smirks before jerking his head to the pipe, “Let me see it, you’re not packing it right.”

“Right? That’s what I’m saying, he packs it too thin!” Namjoon exclaims, his hand resting on his stomach

“Fuck off, if I pack it so thin, why are you stoned out of your mind right now?”

Namjoon chuckles again, tilting his head in agreement, “Because I haven’t smoked in awhile either, med school fucked my tolerance up.”

Namjoon and Hoseok’s dialogue seems to fade in the background as your attentions hones in on Yoongi.

His black hair is falling in his face while he tries to save the “poor” job Hoseok was doing. He has his tongue poking between his lips whilst he concentrates, his fingers delicately working the weed where he feels it belongs.

He keeps twitching his nose and jerking his head to the side, trying to get his hair out of his face until finally you reach out and tuck the strand behind his ear.

Yoongi instantly grins as you do and turns to the side and playfully snaps his teeth at your fingers.

“Heyyy, I’m trying to help you...” You giggle, “I don’t want you to smoke your hair.”

“I got this.” He assures you before timid eyes land on you once more, “Are you sure you’re good with this?”

“I promise.” You assure him for the millionth time before reaching towards the coffee table to hand him a lighter, “Here.”

Yoongi smirks shyly as he mumbles a thank you before raising the pipe to his lips.

He raises the lighter to the nest of green positioned to his liking before using his thumb to set it on fire. As he inhales deeply, his eyes flutter shut while his chest puffs out with the force of his breath.

Within 10 seconds or so, he’s pulling away, pausing for a second before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.

“Fuck me...” He chuckle deeply, smoke still rushing out of his lips, “That is good shit. Who did you pick up from?”

“Right?” Hoseok laughs, flopping back against the couch, “It’s one of Jin’s friends, he started growing recently so, I wanted to help him get started. I need to tell him to keep doing what he’s doing.”

Yoongi just nods before using the butt of the lighter to press the bud down. Within a few seconds, he’s lighting up again, the hair you tucked behind his ear quickly falling in his face again.

You really can’t help yourself.

You feel like a such a cliché right now but, there is something so hot about watching Yoongi smoke.

He looks like every bad boy in every single shitty romance novel and, god you can’t help but press your thighs together at the sight.

Yoongi tilts his head back, exposing the long column of his throat as he exhales another hit, a smirk hanging on the end of lips.

His adams apple bobs as he swallows back a cough before slumping against the cushions.

“Here-” He hands the pipe back to Hoseok, “I think I’m good right now, it’s already kicking in.”

You’re practically drooling at the sight of your boyfriend right now but, you don’t want to be too obvious.

Between Namjoon’s observation skills and Hoseok’s bluntness, you’re doomed to be called out if you don’t reign it in.

“I told you hyung, this guy is the new plug. Y/N...” Hoseok holds the pipe up, “Are you sure you don’t want any?”

“No I-” Your voice comes out awfully squeaky and it immediately causes Yoongi to turn his head towards you. Clearing your throat, you continue, “No, I’m good thank you. Can I have some water though? My throat is really dry.”

Yoongi shoots up immediately, “Shit jagi, I’m sorry. I didn’t offer you anything. I’ll get it right now. You sure you want water? I can make you a drink or we have gatorade and some sprite too.”

His eyes are definitely heavier with the slightest tint of red but, they still hold the same bit of attentiveness they always do.

“Water is good babe, thank you.”

Hoseok grins, “Whiiiippppeeeddddd.” He slurs and Namjoon chuckles but, otherwise keeps quiet.

Yoongi merely smirks before heading over to the kitchen to get you a bottle of water.

“You’re being too informal.” He admonishes, still smirking as his face is illuminated by the light from the fridge, “Just one jagi?”

He holds up a bottle of water, his eyes holding a bit more sweetness as he directs his attention towards you.

“One is perfect.” You giggle at their banter, tucking yourself further into the couch, already wishing for Yoongi to be back beside you.

“One is perfect babyyyy...” Hoseok cackles again, the effects of the weed likely increasing his usual nature.

“Shut up.” You laugh again, smacking his shoulder lightly.

“Yah hyung! Your girlfriend is over here smacking me around!” Hoseok yells again despite the fact that Yoongi is literally in the same room.

“Hoseok-ahhhhhh...” Namjoon whines, putting a pillow over his face, “Stop yelling bro, it’s too fucking loud.”

Hoseok is still giggling, despite his hyung’s warnings as Yoongi finally returns from the kitchen.

“Seriously...” He mumbles in agreement as he hands you the water but, as you reach out to take it, he slumps beside you and takes your wrist in his hand,lowering his tone, “Yah, I’m the only one you should be smacking around yeah?”

His eyes are hooded, his lips still upturned in a smirk as he unscrews the cap for you, holding it out to your lips, “Here’s your water jagiya...”

For once, you’re a little speechless but, you take his offer anyway, securing your lips around the water bottle.

His eyes linger as you take a few sips from it before he screws the cap back on for you, setting back on the coffee table.

“You’re bad.” You giggle, impressed by Yoongi’s boldness

He just grins, cat-like as ever, and lays his head in your lap, subtly nuzzling against your thigh.

“This shit is going to put your boyfriend to sleep, Y/N so be prepared to carry his ass off to bed in a bit.” Namjoon comments, smirking almost fondly at his hyung.

“I’m prepared.” You snicker and, just like Yoongi, you lower your voice to a volume just for him, “I thought putting you to sleep was my job?”

With your teasing question, you run your fingers through his hair and much to your delight, a shiver runs down his spine.

He nuzzles further into your thigh, his hand gripping the outside of it whilst he replies, “It still is.”

It’s all he can muster up for now but, you don’t miss the glint in his eyes before they flutter shut.

The TV has been on since you’ve arrived but Hoseok finally changes the channel and, you continue you running your digits through your boyfriends silky locks.

This goes on for quite some time until your touch begins to have an unexpected effect on your boyfriend’s resolve.

Having you play with his hair when he’s sober is amazing/comforting but, it’s intensified due to his intoxication and the sensations are turning him on.

It’s not long until you both end up in his bedroom and as soon as he shuts the door, he’s pressing you up against it.

With a dark chuckle, he’s kissing at your mouth, taking a deep breath as he allows his hands to explore your body.

“God you really know how to get my dick hard don’t you?”

You laugh into his lips, kissing him back eagerly as your hands push his jacket off of his shoulders, “Is your dick hard right now?”

It’s a bullshit question.

You already know he’s hard.

You could tell by the way he walked you awkwardly into his room.

“I don’t know-” He teases, pressing his hips against yours, allowing you to feel the tightness in his jeans, “What do you think?”

Your mouth waters at the feeling of him, your hand quickly travelling down to rub over his dick.

“Fuck-” Yoongi hisses, his head falling forward onto your shoulder.

“You feel hard to me.” You whisper in his ear, nibbling on the shell of it, enjoying the way he trembles for you.

“I’m so sensitive right now- jesus christ.” He mutters, mostly to himself before kissing up your neck.

With his hips pressed to your hand, he brings his heavy gaze to yours, a smirk crawling it’s way onto his lips, “Is this ready for me right now?” He practically coos, sliding his hand from your hip to the ache between your legs, cupping your pussy.

After the past few days he’s had, you don’t have the urge to tease him.

All you want to do is fuck his brains out.

“Mhm...” You hum, kissing at his lips as you slowly begin to back him up towards the bed. “Right now.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles again, his eyes heavier due to the lust and the weed coursing through his body, “Will you come ride this dick for me then?”

Whilst the two of you are talking, you’re tugging at one another’s clothes and, the next thing you know it; you’re both laying naked on Yoongi’s bed.

He’s big hands slide up the outside of your thighs, squeezing roughly once they get to your ask before he continues his verbal assault on your sanity.

“I’m so fucking hard right now. I’m gonna give you so much baby. I’m gonna fill it up until it drips all over my sheets...”

This shit is hitting different.

Yoongi’s never spoken like this before and you’d be lying if you said it set you on fire.

When his head hits the pillow, the onyx tendrils on his head splay messily across the pillowcase.

Licking your lips, you slide your hands up your body, caressing your breasts, brushing your sex along Yoongi’s twitching dick.

“Oh my god, look at you. You’re so fucking pretty c’mere...” He groans, ushering you back down to his lips, kissing you tenderly, “You gon’ ride this dick for me baby? Let me into this pretty pussy of yours?”

“Uh-huh...” You grunt, sucking on his bottom lip, bracing your hands on either side of his head, “I wanna make you cum so hard...”

“Oh jagiyaaa...” He laughs and its that rickety, almost evil kind of laughter that you find so attractive, “That’s the only way you’ve ever made me cum. Your baby is sensitive when he’s high though, so you gotta be careful or I’m gonna cum before you’ve even started...”

Jesus christ.

“You want it gentle then?”

“Nah. I want you to ride it how you want to. It’s your dick isn’t it? You take care of it how you see fit. I just wanna watch and cum inside you.”

His words snap something inside of you and, before you know it, you’re sinking down on his throbbing dick.

Yoongi grins as soon as he feels you, his hands immediately taking purchase on your hips.

“Oh shit, that’s it...” Yoongi’s whimpering but its low and slow and, it fills you with more motivation.

You lean down, brushing your mouth against his, nibbling on the plump flesh of his bottom lip.

“Good?” You whisper as your hands dig into the pillow beside his head.

His dick is made for you, you’re certain of it.

It curves perfectly against the spot inside of you that immediately seems to make you sick with pleasure.

Yoongi's lopsided smirk has yet to fade but he eagerly presses his lips to yours, his hands coming up to secure your face.

He just nods before sliding his tongue into your mouth, brushing slowly against the side of your own, his hips pumping up along with the rhythm you’ve set.

Throughout your lust-driven haze, you feel him pull away, his hand still cupping your cheek.

“This pussy is good. I swear to god, it’s gonna make me lose my shit. Fu-fuck me...” He stutters when you bottom out on him again, your walls fluttering around him sinfully,

He shoots a pleading look your way but, he’s rendered speechless as you increase your pace on him.

“I love when you’re inside of me.” You say because its’ the truth and you never get tired of telling him, “I love when you cum inside of me. You’re the only one who makes me feel this way.”

Yoongi’s mouth parts in awe, his moan getting caught at the back of his throat as his gaze flits eagerly between your thighs.

“Mine...” Yoongi croons in Korean, unable to conjure up a coherent thought.

You know this word though and, you’re prepared with a reponse.

“Yours.” You kiss him again, locking eyes with him once more, “Forever.”

That’s enough to break him.

He’s cumming hard inside of you now, rope after rope of his release painting every inch he can reach, his body tightening with the force of his orgasm.

In spite of his current state, he still manages to rub your clit whilst you chase your own high, confessing his love for you over and over again until the two of you are completely spent.

---------------------------------------

Later on that evening, the two of you decide to sit in the backyard around the fire pit and snuggle up under one of Yoongi’s many throw blankets, relishing in one another.

Pressing a kiss to the backs of your knuckles, Yoongi murmurs some of the things he’s always too afraid to say.

“I hope you know how much you mean to me. I know that things aren’t always easy with me and, I hope that after today, you can understand why. But, I still hope you know...how much I love you.”

His words send butterflies into your stomach as you snuggle closer to him, “I’ve never felt more loved than when I’m with you, Yoongi, even if you don’t say anything. I know.” You kiss his check before tilting his face towards yours, “And I hope, even when you’re having a tough day or a tough week, you know that I have your back. I hope you never have to feel alone or unloved ever again. Because I’ll always be here for you and, I’ll always love you.”

He smiles, gums and all before surging forward to kiss you, his hands delicately brushing against your cheeks.

“Angel.”

It’s all he whispers before kissing you again, pouring his love into each of his movements.

You want to argue with him; you want to tell him that he’s the angel but, instead you smile into his lips as you always do, and just kiss him.

Yoongi decides in that moment that he doesn’t have to do life alone anymore.

He decides that he’s found his team member.

His partner.

His lover.

His soulmate.

635 notes · View notes

nightwingshero · 5 years ago

Text

Hold Me Down Chapter Three

Here’s that stuff. It’s a long one, which is shocking. I’ve been doing a lot of writing recently, but I tried to get this done before I focused solely on my commission queue. I figured a nice, long chapter would be good to put out for Wren content. @dieguzguz @ja-crispea y’all can laugh at Jacob now, lovelies!

I didn’t fidget often. Not anymore, at least. Those kinds of things were drilled out of you immediately. Maybe that should have been my first red flag, the way that he broke down every little tick that made you human and unique. But I suppose that would have been a needle in a haystack, and what 12-year-old kid looks for those kinds of things when someone saves them from the system? None of them.

But here I was, bouncing my leg as I sat in the chair, my table by the front window, giving me the perfect view of the people going about their day. I envied them, so wrapped up in their own little worlds. What I wouldn’t give to unfuck my life. Wishful thinking got me nowhere, though.

As much as I would have loved to allow myself to disassociate, I had too much on my plate that needed to be handled. And just being in this fucking restaurant was risky. I couldn’t help my mind wander to Rowan. All these years…I sighed, throwing a glance around the room. She didn’t recognize me, but what had I expected? There was at least eight years between us. She was someone that I could look up to, someone I was close to until she left. Someone I aspired to be as Dutch put her on that pedestal. At the end, it was all just bullshit.

Giving a look around, the place seemed dead, but I had to keep in mind that I was in the door the second the damn place opened. I didn’t care much for the old rustic country style, to be honest. It wasn’t my style, but god did it resonate the same aesthetic of its owner. I could never say a word against that. I furrowed my brow a bit as I caught sight of one of the other customers here. The man was sitting in the middle of the room at one of the two-chaired tables facing the window. If I had been on a job, I would’ve chosen the same seat, it was perfect. You could see what was going on outside while keeping an eye on the entrance, and it was deep enough in the room so he could easily check the exits and the coming and going of the employees.

I eyed his clothes, trying hard not to scoff. If I had to label him, it would be hipster mountain main with the big dark beard and flannel. Slowly, I grab my cloth napkin, quickly hiding a knife under it as I placed it across my lap. Was I paranoid? Probably. But after thing that had happened, I wasn’t about to take a chance. Not by a long-shot.

I turn at the sound of the bowl being set down in front of me and I wrinkled my nose. “What the hell is that?” I asked, glancing up at the blonde.

Mary May sighed heavily, placing a hand on her hip with a shrug. “Casey is experimenting, trying new things.”

“You sure he isn’t trying to poison me instead?” I looked wearily at the dish as I poked around with my spoon.

“It’s greasy and unhealthy. He said it would do you some good and that he’d cover it.” She wiped her hands on the white apron wrapped around her bright blue flannel. Was that a fashion thing I had missed out on? “Says that you’re his favorite, so gotta treat you special every now and then.”

I threw her look. “He saw my face. That’s what you’re saying.”

Mary May gave me a sheepish look. “You do look pretty rough, Wren.”

She wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, so there were dark marks under my eyes, but that was nothing compared to the massive bruise on the side of my face with the split lip. The back of my head was still rather tender from being knocked out and if I wasn’t so adamant about getting out of here, I would definitely be planning my revenge. I don’t normally leave a score unsettled, but things were heating up way too quickly. “Yeah, your locals here are super friendly and welcoming, by the way.”

Mary May pulled out the chair across from me, sitting down as she leaned against the wall, resting her arm over the back of the chair. “Someone I know?”

“Depends. Have you heard of the Drubmans?” I asked, taking a bite. I chewed a bit, discovering it to be some sort of stew that I couldn’t pin down. I made a face at the unexpected heat to it, eyes watering as I tried to swallow and clear my throat. “Holy shit.” I gasped out.

“The Drubmans? Like, I-will-sell-you-this-boat Drumbans?”

I looked up at her exasperated expression and pursed my lips. “You couldn’t have fucking warned me—”

“I’m sorry, I took you for someone who knew not to do something stupid.”

“Stupid--? I’m not from here, Fairgrave! You and Sharky—”

I was caught off by the sound of the front doorbell, a young brunette rushing in. His brown eyes landed on me with a smile and wave, before his brows furrowed at my appearance. “Hey, Wren. What happened to your face?” he asked, walking closer to the table as Mary May gave him a stern look. “You look like shit.”

“And you’re late.” Fairgrave taunted, but he just rolled his eyes.

“Good to see you too, Xander.” I muttered, taking another bite, forgetting momentarily what I was eating. I made another face as he laughed.

“Ah, yeah. Casey is playing around with the Brunswick stew. Has a kick to it, doesn’t it?”

“Can I have a cheeseburger, for fuck’s sake?” I wheezed before taking a drink of water. Xander nodded, grabbing the bowl and tugging at my ponytail playfully before walking away. Mary May sighed, leaning forward and resting her elbows against the table as she watched him go. I frowned. “Everything okay?”

“Xander has been coming in late more and more. His head is always somewhere else.” She threw me a rueful smirk. “Apparently he’s been seeing a little blonde thing on the side. Married, too.”

I scoffed, leaning back as I placed the napkin and knife back on the table. I threw the man another glance to see him playing on his phone as he continued with his lobster mac ‘n’ cheese. “What a fucking cliché. That’s so damn disappointing. What’s her name? Have you met her?”

“Nah, he says they have to keep it on the downlow. Swears they’re the new Romeo and Juliet.”

“They both die in the end.”

“That’s what I told him. And then he told me that they lived in the movie.” Mary May laughed with a shake of her head. “That’s when I realized that he was referring to that stupid kid’s movie with the gnomes.”

“I don’t have any words for that. At all. I couldn’t even attempt to bullshit my way through that conversation to save my fucking life.” I replied as I tried to fight the laughter, but I was failing. Mary May sobered up a bit, giving me a serious look.

“So, the Drubmans is why you wanted to meet then?”

I sighed, watching as my fingers played with the napkin, rolling and twisting it. “I need to get out of Atlanta, May. I…I’ve gotten into a lot of trouble, a big shit storm.”

“How big we talking?” she whispered. I glanced up at her, playing with one of my chain earrings, swaying with my movements.

“Two detectives showed up at my place yesterday morning. There’s a fed in Atlanta that’s taking a look at some of the criminal activity. They’re wanting me to play ball or I go to prison. And this,” I pointed at my face with a sickly-sweet smile. “Was Hurk Drubman trying to blackmail me into helping his family.”

She let out a whistle. “Two sides breathing down your neck? Fuck. Who’s the target? Like, what’s the motive?”

I glanced around before I leaned in. “Remember that gala? The one you said would be a good hit?”

“Yeah?”

“You never told me it was for the Seeds, May. I ran into John Seed.”

Her eyes widened, the shock having her lean back. “No…no, the tip was on Charles Laney. I didn’t say anything about the Seeds—”

“It was John’s event and his man—”

“Charles was not in John’s pocket when I handed you that tip, Wren.” She pointed at me, pursing her lips. “John Seed wasn’t even on the radar. And John never attends his own events, it would be unlikely for you to run into him regardless.”

“Well, he attended this one. And he caught me.” I shake my head. “Honestly, it was my fault for not digging deeper, making sure I had all the facts before making the move.”

“So what? You had a little run in, and he caught you? And you’re not dead…because…?”

“Yeah, that’s a long story. But at the end of the day, I refuse to be in the crosshairs of two rival families and the fucking cops.” Mary May frowned at me as I bit my lip, my hands shaking. “I need out of here as soon as possible. I lost most of my money in L.A., so I don’t have enough to get my ass out of the country and to get a comfortable set-up going. But I’m hoping Sharky could give me some sort of deal, and I can get him back later. He knows I’m good for it.”

She nodded slowly, deep in thought. “He could. And you getting overseas would put some good distance from the feds, and I think that’s the biggest thing.” She chuckled, throwing me a smirk. “Such a shame you can’t start over and hire John as your lawyer. Now that is something I would pay to see.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not a fucking chance. That arrogant asshole would drive me to murder, I swear it.”

“Oh yeah?” she cocked her head. “No chance of the two of you working together?”

I narrowed my eyes at her as Xander returned. I threw him a smile before he walked away. Grabbing some ketchup for my fries, I threw her another glance. “What are you getting at? I know your scheming face when I see it.”

She just shrugged. “I don’t know why you don’t come clean. Just tell them what’s going on, you know? You scratch their back, they scratch yours. I know Seeds are a crime family, but they’re still a bit honorable with how they work. It won’t go unnoticed.”

“Yeah, about that.” I dipped a fry in the red sauce, popping it in my mouth. “I had another run in with the baby brother last night. I held him at knife point, kinda ruffled his feathers a bit. I think that bridge is beyond burned at this point. He’ll probably kill me the next time I see him.”

“Jesus.” She breathed. “You know, as approachable as you really are, you definitely know how to make enemies and choose them, too. I think that you might’ve shot yourself in the foot on this one, Wren. John Seed is a powerful person, it’s better to have him as an ally than an enemy.”

I wrinkled my nose at her in disgust. “You’re kidding me, right? Did you not hear what I just said? Look, I came here to keep my head down, and you and Sharky both insisted on me coming here—”

“Because we can help you!” Mary May insisted in a hushed tone. “We have your back, Wren. You were in deep shit, and I know you don’t want to admit it, but you needed the help. You can’t do everything on your own.”

I sighed, looking away. She wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t like I couldn’t help it. You learn quickly to not lean on other people, and Dutch’s way of teaching it…I flinch as flashes of that damn fire flit through my mind. “I’m not used to working with other people, Mary May. And I appreciate the help. I know you didn’t mean for this to happen.” It’s quiet between us, but I paid it no mind as I pop another fry in my mouth. “But that aside, working with John Seed would’ve been a terrible idea. I steal from the rich that don’t deserve the wealth they have. That’s 99% of them, by the way. Working with someone that I would’ve easily made a mark isn’t in my best interest, because I assure you, John Seed is the perfect example as to why I do it.”

Mary May only hummed, but that was fine. It gave me time to eat the burger Casey whipped up for me. It wasn’t fair of me to believe that this was on Mary May and Sharky. I was the one that mis stepped when all they wanted was to help me. The fiasco in L.A. cost me dearly, and I wasn’t about to jump from one mess into another. It was nice to have people on my side for once.

“But they dropped by my apartment before letting me go. Drubman’s men, I mean. Destroyed my apartment and everything. The threat was pretty clear, May. If I stay any longer, I’m either going to die or get thrown in prison. Hurk said that once the Seeds are taken down, I get to walk away and stay out of prison. But I’m not stupid, he wouldn’t let a liability like me walk away. He’ll probably kill me right after, so I don’t have an out. I don’t win in this scenario, and I’m not interested in walking myself to the Devil’s door.”

“So, what do you need?” Mary May asked, finally speaking as she stole a fry.

“I need to know where Sharky went after the shake down. Where has he been laying low?”

She frowned, glancing at me curiously. “Sharky wasn’t approached by anyone. He’s been working at a tattoo parlor a few blocks down. I thought you knew that?”

“I thought he ghosted and went into hiding after I told him the job went sideways. And it kinda made sense after what happened yesterday. They said they shook him down.”

“Yeah, right.” She snorted. “Sharky wouldn’t ever give you away. You know that.”

I smiled, pushing my empty plate towards her. “I know. But I have a bag packed at home. I just need papers and I’m gone.”

“Where you gonna go?”

“Hmm. Maybe Greece. Somewhere nice and relaxing. I think I deserve it.”

Mary May chuckled as she stood, picking up the plate as she went. “Well, you make sure you stop in and say bye before you go. Don’t forgot us little people.”

I watched her walk to the back and disappear. Part of me was disappointed, honestly. I had high hopes for this working out, but things heated up way too quickly, and there was no way out. Running was never my forte, I hated tucking tail. But my game had been off since L.A., and I just needed a damn break. Peace and quiet to help me think over my next move and let things cool off.

Standing, I finally make my way out of the restaurant and into the bright sun. I was ready to get the hell out of here, despite growing a bit fond of the city. I tried hard to not get attached, but sometimes I couldn’t help it. Mary May and Sharky were the only friends, or allies, I allowed myself to have. It went against everything that I had learned from Dutch. No emotions, no attachments. We couldn’t afford it, and that mattered was the job and the family. That was the only concern you should ever have.

Turning, I began my way down the sidewalk, slowing as a red head pushed off a black SUV and stood there, opening the door. Her braids and ponytail gave her a female warrior look that I couldn’t help but admire, but the dark sunglasses shielded her eyes. Unease twisted in my gut as I stopped. White tank top, dark blue jeans, and biker boots that I definitely wouldn’t want against my throat. I turned around and froze, the man from inside standing behind me with his hands in his pockets.

“So, I guess I wasn’t paranoid, then.” I said icily.

He gave the smallest hint of a smile. “No. Good instincts, though. Impressive.”

“Now, we’re going to need you to come with us.” The woman called and I frowned.

“I don’t think so.”

The man cleared his throat. “Ah, I think it would probably be best. We wanted to give you the option to come quietly, rather than jump you. We thought this would be more polite and our boss insisted.” I weighed my options as people went about their day around us. “You won’t be harmed, I assure you.”

Finally, I sighed. “Fuck it. Let’s go.” I stepped in the back of the SUV with a roll of my eyes. I was leaving either way. What was the worst that could happen?

I eyed the building wearily. I had expected a warehouse, or maybe a strip club. Possibly an auto shop or a fucking marina, at this point. But a dark glass skyscraper wasn’t at all what I was expecting. I kept throwing my new friends weird glances as they escorted me to the building. To say I was underdressed was an understatement, but saying I stood out like a sore thumb was more accurate. Faux leather pants, heeled combat boots, with a loose black tank top stood apart from the suits and dresses of the white collared professionals milling around.

The leather jacket was unorthodox, but it helped hide the knives I had strapped to my forearms. I felt a spike of anxiety as we talked across the shiny floor, the three of us taking our own elevator. Patience wasn’t a virtue I possessed, and once I made a decision, I usually worked actively to make it happen. So, being dragged here was making me feel as if I were about to burst out of my skin. I was ready to leave, to get as far away from this damn city as possible.

The elevator doors opened, showing a private office space. It’s a dark modern style, something of good taste I could appreciate. But it’s completely empty, and I wonder if maybe this is where the CEO spent most of his time, assuming this was one of those kinds of businesses. What the hell did I know? The lack of people wasn’t exactly encouraging though. I follow tall dark and handsome with the woman following close behind as he led me to another room.

It was a conference room with dark windows and a massive tv mounted on the wall. It’s a beautiful contrast of wood, grey, and black. Glass sputnik lights brightened the room just a bit, and taking in the rest of the room, I come to a halt. His blue eyes are watching my every move, and I shiver because I can almost feel the way they travel over me.

“Oh, fuck me.” I muttered, but the room is dead silent, so it travels. John’s lips turn into a coy smirk, and my next step is calculated. My brain is racing, taking in the space, the exits, everything I needed if shit hit the fan. I feel the shift coming over, the calm and calculated mask as I step into a role I knew like the back of my hand. It was like slipping into warm water slowly until you finally went under.

“Oh, darling, I appreciate the offer, and I’ve thought about it. But,” John replied with a click of his tongue. “You’re just not my type.”

I returned his coy smile with one of my own, walking slowly towards the table and deeper in the room. “Never thought for you to have such a good sense of humor, Johnny. It’s hilarious, you believing you ever had a chance to begin with.” My black nails drum against the back of an office chair, and at the opposite head of the table, I caught eyes with none other than Joseph Seed himself.

While John sat to his left, his wife and sister sat closely to his right, as far away from me as possible. Taking a quick note of the oldest brother’s absence, I recalculated as the woman continued to follow me, but the male guard stayed at the door. The only exit I could really find, unless I threw a chair through the glass wall. I squeezed the chair as I smiled at Joseph. Seemed sturdy enough.

“I’m very glad you could join us. Thank you for being so kind to accept the invitation.” His voice is calm, soothing almost, and as gentle as his eyes. It threw me for a loop, because you didn’t ever expect the head of a crime family to be kind or polite.

“With all due respect, I don’t believe I had much of a choice in the matter. But I appreciate you not kidnapping me off the street. Your…colleagues don’t practice in the manners you’ve displayed.”

His brows furrowed as his wife threw him a confused look. I hesitated for a second, catching John’s narrowing eyes as he tilted his head. So, they weren’t very aware of what the Drubman’s had been up to, which meant they probably got tired of me sniffing around. I was about to continue when movement to my right caught my attention.

I go rigid for only a split second, allowing myself just that momentarily slip as Jacob Seed enters the room with Rowan right behind him, a quick brush of her hand against her stomach. Our eyes catch, and this time, I know she recognizes me. It’s ice, at first, that enters my veins, much like that night. But slowly, and surely, it begins to boil.

She smiled at me, soft and sad, but I’m careful. Oh, so careful as the porcelain of my skin shows the same smile that I’ve shown the rest of them as she speaks. “Hello, Wren.”

My eyes don’t leave her for a second, and while I appeared at easy, almost nonchalant, inside my muscles were coiling like a snake, ready to strike at any second. “Rowan.” I keep my voice light, a slight lilt that only barely hides the sickly-sweet venom dripping off the tip of my tongue. It’s a light tread, almost a nudge, to test the waters. This is no longer about the family in the room, its just her and I, in our own dance. “Long time, no see.”

“It has been a while, hasn’t it?” She agreed, slowly making her way down the length of the conference table, both her and Jacob walking towards John. I turn on my heel, walking around the opposite side as I trace my fingers across the tops of the chairs.

“And here I thought you didn’t recognize me.” I slowed as she came to a stop, resting her hands on the back of a chair. She looked good, genuinely. It pissed me off even more, fueling the dark twisting sense of betrayal in the pit of my stomach. She knew, of course, how this game worked. But the 12 years without her gave me the element of surprise. Rowan hadn’t learned my habits, hadn’t learned my tells because she hadn’t been there to see them.

“I would always recognize you.” She breathed out, a glossiness settling in her eyes. “Even though you were still pretty young the last time I saw you.”

There. I come to a complete stop as I feel it, the rip in my chest as my blood pounded in my head. I keep smiling as I move my hand to fidget with the sleeve of my jacket, casual as ever. But there’s a millisecond that feels like minutes, where my eyes finally sharpen on her. The eyes have always been, and always will be, the mirror to the soul, and hers widen when she takes a glimpse of mine, because she knows it’s too late. That my fingers have brushed the cool metal of my knife.

She only has time to take a step back, and that was something I indulged her. Because it’s the next second that knife is gone, and my elbow is smashing the face of the red head behind me. I twist around quickly and grab a handful of hair as Rowan cried out, my knife hitting its mark as I smash Viking Princess’ face against the table. Twisting her arm, pressing and trapping her body with my hip, I pull her Glock out with my right hand.

Rowan’s eyes catch mine once more as she holds her shoulder in shock, blood soaking her shirt as she stares down the barrel of a gun that’s aimed right at her face. Cool and calm as ever, my breathing stays even, but I’m a hurricane on the inside and for the first time, the Seeds see my true self.

“Jane!” a soft cry pierces the air as the little sister rises from her chair, but before she could rush me, Joseph’s wife pulls Faith close to hold her. I glance down quickly, connecting the dots. I realize then why the woman was familiar, and now Faith’s significant other finally had a name. Jane.

Rowan laughed, meeting my eyes with something shining there that I can’t pinpoint. “Ah, there she is. I was wondering when you’d drop the act. Always have been good at changing faces, huh?”

Jacob was at Rowan’s side as she gripped the knife, breathing heavily through the pain as her face pinched. Jacob threw me a dark glare, his blue eyes on fire. “You’re lucky you missed, girlie.”

“No.” Rowan hissed as she pulled the knife out smoothly from her shoulder, eyeing the blood that stained the custom blade. Something crossed over her face, but it was gone when she met my gaze once more. “She didn’t miss.” Rowan her hands in defense, taking a small step forward. “Did you?”

I don’t say a word as I watch her gently place the knife on the table. It’s hard to keep my composure as I seethe, the loathing and hurt oozing out of me like toxic waste. I hated every word that fell from her lips, a nostalgia she had no right to, not anymore. The pain in my chest was worse than I could have imagined and that’s when it hit me just how buried this feeling had been. How it still bothered me…I had never moved past it.

“Never thought of you as a gun person.” She nodded to the Glock I aimed at her.

“People change.” I replied, my voice hard. I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my face, so I spare him a glance.

John is still reclined with his hands folded in front of him, but even I can tell he was more tense than he was minutes ago. There’s a hard edge to his jaw as there’s a burning in the depths of his irises. He takes it in, and for once, I don’t know how to feel. I hate how vulnerable I am, that my mask is gone and there’s no going back. All for the sake of the absolute wrath pumping through my veins for someone I believed I was close to. I hated giving into the instincts, leaning into what Dutch had built me into. And I hear a click of a gun as the hairs on the back of my neck rises, that telling sensation running down my spine as the other guard points his gun at the back of my head.

Rowan hums as she examines the wound. “They sure do. You’ve improved since I last saw you.”

“And you’ve gotten slower, Rowan. Can’t say I’m exactly shocked.” I sneered. She stops, looking at me with deep regret and I hate the way my heart tugs at it. I hate my hand is beginning to shake the slightest. This was always my problem, why Dutch always told me I would never be like Rowan. I was so emotional, so empathetic that it would almost become a liability. And all their eyes were on me.

Jacob stepped forward. “Drop the fucking gun—”

Rowan placed her bloody hand on his chest, pushing him back. “If she was going to kill me, she would have already, Jake. She wouldn’t need the gun, the knife would have found my throat before Jane got slammed against the conference table.” She sighed heavily before jutting her chin out. “She’s proving a point.”

The way she says it, like I’m a petulant child that didn’t understand the adult’s conversations, made me feel like bursting out of my skin. “No. No, I’m so done with this shit. What’s going to happen is you’re going to tell Lumberjack Steve to back the fuck off, let me walk out of this damn room, and building, and let me get the fuck out of this godforsaken city, because I have had it with this fucking love triangle that you’ve dragged me into.” I snapped.

“Love triangle?” Faith asked, her soft voice breaking.

There was a clearing of someone’s throat before Joseph’s soothing voice joined the tension. “I believe there was a mentioning of colleagues—”

“Yes,” I snapped, my eyes finding John’s once more. “Hurk Drubman Sr. sends his regards.” I reveled in the slight shock he gave away, the way Joseph leaned back and exchanged glances with Jacob. For once, I felt I had finally been able to shake this arrogant asshole and his family. I had leverage, I had information, and I felt that, for once, I was the one holding the cards.

John clicked his tongue as a look of discontent settled on his features, and he began tapping his fingers against the table. “He hit you?”

I swallowed as his gaze weighed on me, my heart picking up in pace. “His men snatched me off the sidewalk last night for a little conversation. And well,” I gave him a cheeky smile. “You know how charming I can be, John. Except Hurk is a bit less tolerant than you are.”

“Wren, I’m sorry. We had no clue.” Rowan breathed out and my face twisted in disbelief as my eyes pinned her down.

“You’re sorry?”

She closed her eyes momentarily, but it was obvious that this hurt her just as much as it did me. This reunion was nothing short of painful. I was just too angry to care for hers. “You have to understand why I had to—”

“I was 15!” I snapped, my voice rising an octave. The tears began to pool as full on rage began to break through the walls that I had spent so long building to keep her at bay. “I was 15 years old, and you left us behind!”

“I foolishly believed you would be safe with Grace, Wren. I thought you were better off where you were—”

“With him?!” I shrieked. Scoffing, I shook my head at her. “You were the only family we had left, especially after what happened with Eli.”

Rowan paled and I get a sick, dark satisfaction from hurting her. Reminding her of how deep she was before disappearing. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret what I did.” She whispered.

I swallowed. “I thought you were dead. We all did. He told us you betrayed our family.”

“I always had eyes on the inside. They went silent after a while; I didn’t know what was going on. Grace stopped corresponding—”

“Grace is dead.” I replied, my voice breaking. Her dark brown eyes go wide as she stumbled back. Jacob placed a hand on her lower back, but she doesn’t register him.

“You did it.” Her voice breaks, making her almost squeak out her words. “You passed his test.”

I shook my head, my mouth twisting. “No Rowan. I didn’t.” I swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat to no avail. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it. She…”

“She what, Wren?”

I’m visibly shaking, the gun quivering in my hands, but I’m too scared to put it down. Too worried that I’ve gone too far to turn back now. I needed to get the fuck out while I still had some semblance of control. “Doesn’t matter.” I ground out. That’s a rabbit hole I can’t afford to go down, the guilt still all-consuming. “I’m packing my shit and I’m leaving.”

“What stuff?” the man behind me asked. “We’ve been by your apartment—”

“Yes, and I’m sure the door was wide open!” I snapped sarcastically. “Hurk made sure his men gave me a nice reminder of the shit I’ve been dragged into.”

Joseph stood, placing his hands on the conference table. “Ms. Blake, I understand that you are in a bind. Please. Put the gun down and let’s talk. I believe there’s a solution for all of us.” I gave an uneasy glance around the room. John’s dark look and Jacob’s murderous glare wasn’t at all reassuring. As if reading my mind, he spoke again. “You won’t be harmed, you have my word.”

I throw a look at Rowan, and she gives me a quick nod, but I don’t know if I could trust them. The thought of getting roughed up again seemed exhausting.

“Randy, stand down.” Joseph called. The man behind me lowered the gun and stepped away. “Whitney, why don’t you take Jane and Rowan to get cleaned up.”

The woman I assumed to be Joseph’s wife stood, nodding and dragging Faith with as she walked towards Rowan. He raised his brow at me, and I looked away, slowly lowering the gun and stepping back. Jane shot up, her hand going to her nose as she glared at me.

“You broke my fucking nose.”

“That’s enough, Jane.” Joseph called.

She whipped around, fire burning in her eyes. “Joseph—”

“Enough.”

His voice sent a chill down my spine, and I’m reminded that this man is dangerous. That he isn’t just someone that has been nothing but kind since I’ve been here. No, he’s someone that I need to keep a distance from. So, when he looks at me again, I feel my walls come back up.

“Please, have a seat.” Joseph gestured to the seat in front of me as he sat back down. Looking down, I wrinkle my nose at the blood on the conference table. Moving down a chair, I pull it out and take my seat as I was left alone with the brothers.

The silence is almost deafening as I try to get comfortable. I finally glance at Joseph. “You wanted me for a reason, I take it?”

“Yes.” Joseph gave a gentle smile. “John spoke rather highly of you.”

“Doubtful.” I muttered, making John throw me a shit eating grin.

“It has come to my attention,” Joseph continued, ignoring John and me. “That you have found yourself in quite the predicament.”

“I suppose you could say that.”

“Hmm, yes. I’m sure the FBI haven’t exactly as been any more gracious.”

I paled immediately, and I have to fight the urge to kick myself. I recalled Hurk Sr. briefly mentioning ties in the police department, but I didn’t stop to consider this a possibility. My heart started to race. “What are you talking about?” I breathed out.

His smile never wavered as his eyes seemed to see straight into my soul. “A friend of ours has brought some…unfortunate news.” His attention shifts from me to the door as he straightens just a bit more. “And he’s finally decided to join us.”

My face pinches in confusion as I turn my head. And for once, I don’t school my expression to hide my shock. He’s nervous, and you can tell by the way he tugs at his cheap suit. His gaze is downward as he walks in. Jacob grips him by the shoulder tightly as his eyes finally find mine.

“Pratt.” My voice is detached and firm, trying hard to recover but failing miserably. I can’t hide my distaste for the detective.

He doesn’t say a word as John gives him a malicious smirk. He clears his throat. “Blake. Didn’t uh…I didn’t know you were going to be here.” He mumbled.

“The feeling is mutual.”

“Detective Pratt has done his job well, informing us that there’s a certain…ploy in place against us.”

I casted him a venomous glare. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I hissed.

He swallowed, shrinking into himself under Jacob’s heavy hand. I fought the urge to lunge across the table. If he had kept his mouth shut, I would’ve been long gone by now. But instead I was here, probably about to get a bullet in my head for fucking with the wrong family. John’s taunting voice warning me over and over to leave his family be made my teeth clinch tightly, wounding my pride. Lovely.

“I’m sure there are some hard feelings here, and I understand. But I’m sure you can understand loyalty, Ms. Blake. You can’t fault him for doing his job.”

His words don’t ease a fucking thing, on the contrary, it made me feel worse. “I understand.” I heard myself say, as if I was on autopilot. Slowly, I was switching into survival mode.

“Good. Now, I appreciate your incentive to move on to another city, and I will be more than willing to help you with that.”

“But?” I asked, meeting his eyes once more, and ignoring John’s intense stare.

Joseph let out a small chuckle. “Nothing gets by you, does it dear?”

“Kind of my job to not let it.”

“Ah, yes, that’s fair. Well,” he took a second to clear his throat before continuing, leaning forward and folding his hands on the table. “I have a proposition for you. I understand that the FBI are circling around you, so to speak. Asking for my family in return for your freedom.”

“Which we know is very unlikely to happen.” John added. I gave him a sharp look, trying to figure out if he was being serious or just an obnoxious ass, but I came up empty. Its weird, watching this man go from a cocky asshole to someone who is serious and all business. It occurred to me that I was finally seeing him in his lawyer role. “Chances are they’re going to use you to get what they want, and then from there, they’ll gather a case against you. You will either go down with us or be thrown in with whatever organization you originated from.”

“And now there’s the issue with the Drubman family.” Joseph cut in, taking back control of the conversation. “Clearly they saw an opportunity.”

“They claim to have ties in the police department.” I replied, eyeing Pratt.

“None of that is shocking in the slightest. Hurk Sr, if nothing else, is resourceful. But you have two groups that are weighing down on you, pressuring you to infiltrate and destroy my family.”

There’s something dangerous in the gentle gaze he gives me, and this is the first time I became truly terrified of Joseph Seed. I fight the urge to glance at John, because why would I? And I hated to admit this, but a part of me naively believed he would protect me from his older brother. It was foolish, because I was the enemy. I was the threat to him and his family, and I was answering for it.

“Then let me leave.” I whispered, finding myself desperate to be relieved of his pointed gaze. “Let me get the hell out of here. It would solve both of our problems.”

“But, unfortunately, it wouldn’t.” I frowned as he sighed, glancing at his hands briefly. “That would only serve one party, and it would be extremely short lived. Burke is very determined to keep you in his pocket. John explained to me that you would not be allowed to leave the city, not risking you disappearing from his radar.”

“Doesn’t take a big-time lawyer to state the obvious.” Pratt muttered.

Joseph and John gave him an unsatisfied look as I whipped around. “No one fucking asked you, asshole.” I snapped and he glared at me. I couldn’t explain my irritation towards the man, but something about him set me off. Maybe it was the fact that he reminded me of a weasel, the little shit. “You have some fucking nerve—”

“Language.” Joseph correct softly as Jacob squeezed a little too hard, making Pratt flinch.

“Quiet, Peaches.”

I couldn’t help the way I smirk or the way I quirk a brow at him. Peaches, huh? His glare at me intensified, but I brush it aside as I brought my attention back to Joseph. “So, Burke isn’t going to let me go easy?”

“Neither of them will.” Joseph corrected. “Not now, after they’ve gotten their hooks in you.” I turned and glared at the table, my skin crawling at his verbiage. I hated the idea of someone pulling the strings to control me. It was infuriating. “Luckily, we can work this to our advantage.”

“What is it that you want from me?” I asked, my irritation barely contained. I knew I wasn’t going to like this, and while they were scheming, I was trying to figure out a way to get the hell out of this alive. Just because I was willing to listen, didn’t mean I was willing to comply.

“I want you to do what you’re supposed to do. Or what you are being told to do, I mean.” Shooting him a look, he continued. “You’re going to work for me, Ms. Blake. John tells me that you are very skilled at keeping up pretenses—”

“You mean working a mark? As a con artist?” I asked with a raised brow.

His mouth twitched before he continued. “Yes, I suppose that’s one way to put it. My offer is that you work for us, pretend to infiltrate our family, while feeding the false information we give you to both the feds and Drubmans. In return, you have our protection from both.”

I scoff as I lean back in the chair with my arms crossed. “I can take care of myself, thank you.”

“Apparently not, darling. Or at least, that’s what it looks like from where I sit.” John taunted. I immediately threw him a death glare, ignoring the sting to my ego. I was ready to claw those pretty eyes of his out.

“John, that’s enough.” Joseph reprimanded, throwing him a pointed look. “It’s not just protection, Ms. Blake. This is only temporary.”

“So you say.” I replied warily. “With all due respect, things like this are never temporary.”

“No, I suppose you’re right. Though, I’m not like most people in this…lifestyle. My family, we keep our word. And I give you my word. You do this, not only will you have protection, but I will personally see to it you find your way out of this city safely. We can set you up somewhere of your choice. You will also be properly compensated for your time and help.”

“That’s awfully generous of you.” I responded suspiciously.

“There’s nothing in this world that’s more important to me than my family, my people, Ms. Blake. What you consider generous, I consider a necessary investment to ensure the future of the people I care about.”

I hesitated, completely baffled by the passion in his eyes. I clearly underestimated this family, because I wasn’t expecting that. “So, I pretend to work for you? Is that it?”

“No,” he leaned back, putting his foot on his knee. “That would be too risky. It puts you in the path of the feds and our competition, and neither of us want that. No, you’re going to become engaged to my brother.”

I stared at him before quickly looking at Jacob. Him? Wait…no, he was married to Rowan, wasn’t he? Did I pick up the vibes wrong? No, that can’t be…

My eyes widened as Jacob’s smirk did the same. I immediately turn to see John staring at Joseph incredulously. Oh. Oh.

“Absolutely not—”

“Oh, there’s no way in hell—”

“Brother, we didn’t discuss—”

“That little shit? Just kill me—"

“This is a bad idea, I assure you—”

“He’s an asshole—”

“Enough.” Joseph spoke out, silencing both of us as he raised his hand, and then turned to John. “You’re the only one of us that this could work with. You’re the only one that isn’t either engaged or already married.” He turned back to me. “I can’t hire you as an assassin, con artist, or anything thing else similar to that. That wouldn’t be infiltrating, not in your style, at least. This needs to be believable, and that’s not the way to do it. You understand, don’t you?”

I open my mouth to protest, but I close it when I realize that everything that he’s saying is right. I avoided violence, so me being added to their ranks wouldn’t make sense. No, my technique was always more subtle, taking a different approach. If I were doing this for real, it wouldn’t have been much different than what he had planned. The difference was the man sitting next to him.

John threw me an icy look, clearly not happy with the turn of events. At least that was something we could both agree on. I couldn’t help but think how much of a shame it was, in a different situation, he could have been charming. The first few minutes of knowing him had been pleasant.

Too bad he was such an arrogant prick.

“Look, I’m not exactly down for an arranged marriage. Especially to him.”

“It wouldn’t be real, obviously. You both will pretend to be in love for the public, the feds and Drubman will believe you’re doing what you agreed to do. Being engaged to John will offer you protection on all fronts, and that’s important with the attention you’ve gathered.”

I’m quiet as I take it in, weighing my options. I couldn’t leave, that was no longer an option. And slowly, piece by piece, everything fell into place. I eyed Pratt, and that’s when it clicked. “I don’t have a choice.”

“You still can say no, of course. But I think you know what will happen if you do.”

I hated his soft voice, hated how polite and gentle he was, because it hid how fucking clever and manipulative he was. Saying no would give me freedom to get the hell out, but that would be my only choice. They knew, so any chances of working myself out a deal with the feds was off the table, and there would be a target on my head from the Drubman’s. And it occured to me the real reason Pratt was here. I swallowed. He would take me in on the spot, with just a word from one of the brothers. Not even that, he would have to for Burke. I clenched my teeth. I’ve been played.

“You promise me a safe way out?” I asked softly, trying my best to keep my rage at bay.

“I promise.”

I sighed, eyeing him with distaste. “Fine. I’ll help you. But I don’t have to actually marry him, do I?”

The look on John’s face told me he had been offended, but Joseph ignored him. “No, not really. If we play everything correctly, this will be over in a few months. We can get away with a simple engagement.”

“Good. I can handle that.” I replied. Anything to keep me from getting thrown in the ocean tied to a concrete block or prison. I could handle a few months cuffed to this idiot to get the hell out.

“Hmm. At least she’s an upgrade from that Holly girl you were running around with.” Jacob muttered. “Kinda gives you a way out, Johnny. Keep the crazy broad off your back.”

John shot him a look. “Shut up, Jacob.”

“Just sayin’ you really know how to pick ‘em.”

“Fuck y—"

I rolled my eyes and stood. “This has been fun and all, but I’m gonna go ahead and go. We’re done here.” Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked out, shooting daggers at Pratt on the way.

I smashed the elevator button repeatedly, becoming more and more impatient by the second as I heard approaching footsteps. “Where are you going?”

The sound of his snobby tone made me groan. “Please go away, I’ve had enough of you for the last 24 hours. I need a break from Your Holiness.” I almost cried as the elevator doors dinged open, desperate for my escape.

“That’s awfully rude of you.” John said with a twist of his mouth. “And don’t you think you should be coming with me?”

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed as I pressed the lobby button. “I’m not staying with you, if that’s what you’re suggesting. As far as I’m concerned, as long as there’s no ring on my finger, I can enjoy my personal space while I still can.”

I smirked as I had the absolute pleasure of watching the doors shot to John’s reddening face. It was short lived, however, because I collapsed against the wall with a heavy sigh. I was exhausted to say the least, and there was nothing I wanted more than to curl up and hide in my trashed apartment.

“What the hell is going on?!”

To say I was shocked would have been an understatement of the century, but the fury underneath was quickly approaching the surface. I was absolutely looking forward to falling face first on what was left of my bed. So, it was a bit of a shock when I found movers taking my stuff out of my apartment, piece by piece. Spotting the landlord, I rushed over.

“Hey! Did you hear me? What do you think you’re doing?” I snapped, pointing at the apartment.

She was middle-aged, my landlord. Grey and brown hair in a bun as her bangs brushed her forehead, and no matter the weather, she always wore a shabby sweater. She was the strangest woman I had ever met.

“The tenant gave a notice, so we’re cleaning it out for the next one.” She replied with a frown, eyeing me up and down.

“The tenant…? I am the tenant!” Was she daff? I paid her rent every month, always on time and never short. We weren’t friends, but we were civil and polite enough.

She raised her brow at me before looking at the pages on her clipboard. “So, you’re ‘Duncan’ then?”

I gapped at her like a fish. Duncan? Who the fuck was Duncan? “What? No—”

“Then you’re not the tenant.”

“I’ve been living here for the past six months!”

“Under Duncan’s roof. It’s in his name, dear. Positive side, he’s going to be the one responsible for paying for the damages. But there’s nothing I can do, I’m sorry.” And with that, she turned, walking away with finality.

I tried to take a deep, calming breath. As much as I loved him dearly, I was going to kill Sharky. The only alias he was supposed to use was one of mine, but clearly, he had other plans. Turning to leave with a huff, I stop short. This time I can’t help my fists clench as Randy and Jane stand there by the top of the stairs. I could see the bruising on Jane’s face starting to form and the redness of her nose almost made me feel sheepish.

“You’re supposed to come with us, John sent for you.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me?” I asked, feeling exasperated. But when they didn’t laugh or even crack a smile, I realized John’s men had zero sense of humor and I was officially fucked. I’d never felt so cornered in my life and I had to fight the instinct to run and get the hell out of there. “Of course you’re not. Fucking Christ.” I ran a hand over my face as Jane smirked.

“You’ll learn pretty quick that John usually gets what he wants.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

#deputy wren blake #john seed #rowan palmer #jacob seed #faith seed #jane williams #randy miller #whitney seed #joseph seed #my ocs #my writing #Far Cry 5 #hold me down #i can't believe you've done this

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jimlingss · 6 years ago

Text

Jungle Park [5]

Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

➜ Words: 4.3k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

➜ Warnings: swearing and taxi passengers slut shaming and being general assholes.

It’s too hard to stay awake. It’s...too—…...difficult….. “Y/N?” You’re shaken awake by someone’s hand coming to gently squeeze your shoulder. Immediately, you jolt back to life, looking around to find yourself in the office. Right. “Are you alright?” Sunyi comes back into focus and you realize Hyuk and Lisa are already looking at you, watching your face as if you have a spider on your forehead and they don’t want to scare it away. “What? Oh, sorry. I was...um...distracted for a second there. What did you say?” You can tell she doesn’t quite believe you, but the lawyer doesn’t push it either. “A bunch of us are going to dinner tonight. We were wondering if you wanted to join us?” “Dinner?” This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. It’s what you’ve always wanted. To finally be a part of the group, catch late night drinks or eat food, to actually befriend these people beyond the workplace setting. “I would love to….but...tonight?” Of all nights. Why tonight? “You can’t make it?” “I...already have plans.” It hurts so bad — it’s like you’re a kid who’s been waiting for your birthday for months and on the day of, it turns out you can’t even attend your own party because of a dentist appointment. “Aw.” Hyuk hangs his head and pouts, eyes flickering down the expanse of your body quicker than you can even register. “What a shame, thought I’d be able to finally get to know you.” “I’m sorry. I should’ve known.” Maybe it looks like you’re about to burst into tears, because then Sunyi smiles softly. “No, it’s okay. How could you have known? There’ll be plenty of other times. How about lunch tomorrow?” “Lunch?” There’s a tone of hope and eagerness in your voice and you know you’re being pretty childish and pathetic, but you’re too exhausted to put on a more professional façade. “That works for me. I’ll clear up my schedule.” “Alright.” Sunyi grins. “Tomorrow, a bunch of us can gather up for lunch.” You smile, nodding your head. “Sounds good.” A handful of people from the office begin to file out at five o’clock. You bid them a goodbye and goodnight. But someone else lingers behind and she seems to hesitate. “Hey, Y/N.” Lisa stands to the side and you wonder if anything’s wrong — ironic considering her next question is addressed to you. “Are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine,” you reassure her with your lips upturned. The receptionist nods. “Okay. Goodnight then.” “Bye.” You watch as she catches up with the group, slightly touched that she shows concern for your well-being. Though, the question lingers in your head — ARE you okay? If you’re completely frank with yourself, you’re not sure. On the way home, you accidentally fall asleep on the subway. Your head bobs up and down and ends up on the shoulder of a granny and you apologize profusely, nearly hurting your neck when you try to use your own shoulder as support. Then once you make it home, you fall on the couch to take a two hour nap. A symphony of blaring alarms is what you wake up to. After, you force yourself to get up, you wash your face, eat something quick, have a cup of coffee… Then…. “Hello!” You twist around to face the backseat with a bright smile. “Where are you off to tonight?” “The Kelpers Club on seventh avenue,” one of the three guys say and you nod, pulling off the curb and into the road. “Oh, fuck!” The dude from the left seat startles you, but when you glance at the rear-view mirror, thankfully he’s not talking to you. He’s staring at the screen of his phone and his friends are glancing over. “Look what Tiffany just sent me.” “Holy shit!” They reach over to punch the guy in the arm, laughing and grinning. They’re a rowdy and obnoxious bunch, but you try your best to keep focus on the road ahead of you. “Dude, you need to send me that. I could probably rub three or four out with that hot pic.” They each have a water bottle with them, taking sips every so often and by the smell of their breaths that waft over to ruin your breathing space, you’re almost certain that it isn’t water they have in there. “Did you really tap that last night?” “Yeah.” He smirks. “She keeps on texting me though. It’s so fucking annoying. Clingy bitch. It’s no wonder her boyfriend of four years cheated on her with her best friend. And she thinks we’re an exclusive item just cause I took her out once. What a joke. She’s desperate and a mess.” Your left eye twitches and you run the yellow light that you normally would’ve slowed down at. The dude in the center laughs. “But c’mon, how is she? How does she take it?” The other lets out a snort and rolls his shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you. She’s a freak. She wanted me to slap and spank her. The skank choked on me like five times and even took it in the ass.” “Holy shit!” They’re in an uproar, piercing sound of their chortles deafening to your ears. They punch him again, saying things like he’s a lucky bastard and what they would give to be in that position. But what’s the absolutely last straw for you is— “You could probably get it in if you want. I bet she’d like taking two or three cocks at once too. Tiffany is a massive slut.” They roar and howl like animals in heat and one of them opens their mouth to add a comment, but you floor the gas on an empty street and their bodies lurch forward. “Do you want me to change the radio?” you interrupt before anything else can be said and before your blood pressure spikes more than it has. “No. It’s fine.” They catch themselves when you stop at a red light. “Do you want me to turn on the heating or air conditioning?” “We’re fine,” one of them grunts out in annoyance. You ignore him and slam off the air conditioning, rolling all the windows up to seal shut and hitting the heating button. It begins to blast, though you don’t mind if you get too warm. It’s much too rewarding to look at the rear-view mirror and see all three guys squished up against each other, extremely hot and uncomfortable, hair becoming wet with sweat. You hope their vodka gets too warm and stale to drink. “I’m having trouble finding the destination,” you lie without blinking twice. You loop around and around the blocks, purposely driving over the manholes at full speed and enjoying how the car launches slightly at every bump and they hit their heads on the roof of the small vehicle. “It’s the left!” “Left or right?” You feign innocence and stupidity as if you don’t understand basic directions. “Which one?!” “Left!” He shouts. You twist your wrist roughly, swerving the steering wheel to the right. “Oops!” “What the hell?!” They’re in disbelief and you kill fifteen minutes, going all over the blocks and taking wrong turns, somehow even ending in the suburban area. When you’re satisfied with messing with them, you pull up on the curb...in the middle of nowhere. “Whelp, we’re here.” You turn around with a blazing smile and their jaws are dropped, brows furrowed, finding the situation completely absurd. “It’s just down the block.” More like down thirty blocks. “The traffic is too much to get close. Sorry ‘bout that.” “There’s no traffic,” one of them says, but you ignore them and they pull out their wallets to split the fare. They get out one by one with deep scowls, slamming the car doors shut, hard enough to damage your precious taxi. Before closing the last door, one of them pops their head through and mutters something you hear loud and clear, “dumb bitch.” You end up driving directly into a mud puddle, splashing them in the brown slush and making it look like they collectively shat in their pants. You cackle as you pull off into the street again. They didn’t even tip you. “Hello. Where are you off to tonight?” “The airport, please.” “Certainly.” It’s not like you’re passionate about taxi driving. You specifically sought out the HR position to leave this behind, to actually chase after what you want. But here you are, crawling back to your old career and balancing between your day and night job. Even though Hoseok declared a truce between the two of you, you still can’t get rid of the feeling that he might fire you one day. You wouldn’t know what to do if one day you’re seated on the other side of the conference table with Jimin and Hoseok across from you, delivering the news that you’re not needed anymore. You wouldn’t know what to do if you’re thrown off on the street without a job. You wouldn’t be able to pay your bills. You wouldn’t be able to pay for food. More importantly, you would have to move back with your mom. The nightmare haunts you. And you still have the lease on the cab. It’s been sitting in your apartment parking spot — might as well use it, right? At the end of the night, you get another wad of cash that goes directly into your savings. Doing this is better than sitting at home and worrying about your future, mindlessly watching television and surfing the internet, walking around, and….sleeping. A little bit of sleep sacrificed isn’t a big deal. Your eight-hours of sleep is merely split up throughout the day — naps taken on the subway to and from the firm, a two hour slumber before taking the taxi night-shift, another four hours afterwards before heading to the office. Occasionally, you might doze off in your office too, but no one really notices when you turn your chair towards the window and it seems like you’re staring out at the cityline. Thankfully, Hoseok hasn’t noticed either. “Excuse me?” The girl in the backseat stirs awake from her drowsiness, looking out the window. “I think we’re here.” “Oh, sorry. I was thinking about someone—......I mean something. I was thinking about something.” You scramble with a laugh, parking the car and getting out to help with the passenger’s luggage in the trunk. She doesn’t seem that upset with you, even smiling and thanking you for the ride, tipping you a decent five dollars. Things aren’t too bad. “Aren’t you driving too slow?” A middle age woman impatiently quacks in the backseat of your car, pushing herself up closer to you. “Can’t you go faster?” “Uh...I’ll try my best.” Really, things aren’t too horrible. …. It could be worse. // The only thing you’re looking forward to is lunch. When you wake up in the morning, you’re already buzzing with excitement. As pathetic as it is, you can’t remember the last time you shared a meal with other people. If things go well, then people in the office will really begin to get comfortable with you and maybe you’ll have a few workplace friends that will become your friends out of work too. You’re excited, and you hope it doesn’t show too much. “Hey, ready for lunch today?” Sunyi has popped into your office first thing in the morning with a smile. “You didn’t forget, did you?” “Of course I didn’t,” you laugh. “Good. We’re going down the block to that italian restaurant. They have a really good lunch menu, cheesesteak and sandwiches and soups too.” “That sounds great,” your cheeks are almost bursting with your smile. “Who’s coming along with us?” “You and I obviously,” she jests in a light tone. “And also Seulgi, Namjoon, Hoseok and unfortunately, the leech freeloader Min Yoongi. Trust me, I didn’t want him to join, but he self invited himself like the asshole that he is. He invited himself and Hoseok. I knew I shouldn’t have talked about it with Seulgi when we were all in the elevator earlier...” You stifle back a laugh. “That’s completely fine.” “Alright, see you later then.” The woman sighs and checks her phone briefly. “Gotta get some work done before we run on out.” Your head nods once and she’s on her way. // For the first hour, you focus on running through more applications and looking for a suitable paralegal. There still hasn’t been anyone hired to fill Sebin’s position, but there’s not too big of a rush. Hoseok would rather you take your time to go through and choose carefully, rather than picking someone right off the bat. Plus, he’s also told you that things are actually running fairly well with the three paralegals already on the team, smoother than he expected. You make a few phone calls, setting up interview dates and times. But then someone stops by your office. “Hey,” Namjoon greets you and before you can ask if he needs any help, he beats you to the punch. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m helping Jimin with mediation. The client re-booked it at twelve thirty, so I don’t think I can go later.” “No, it’s okay. Work takes priority anyways,” you wave him off and he smiles, promising he’ll make time some other day for lunch. Not another twenty minutes pass by before you find yet another person standing at your doorway, balancing a huge mountain of files. “Are you alright?” “I don’t know,” Seulgi admits in all honesty and looks like she’s on the verge of tears. “I just remembered I forgot to submit the affidavits and orders yesterday that were given to me by Jungkook and I think Hoseok’s going to fire the both of us if it’s not in submission. I’m helping him and we both have to run down there and I don’t know how long it’s going to take or if it’s even possible at this point—” “Seulgi,” you call her name calmly to reassure the girl. “It’s okay.” “I’m so, so sorry. Can I ask for a rain check?” “Of course you can. I’m always free.” By eleven o’clock, a full hour before the designated time, there’s another person at your door. This time, it’s a shorter man with full cheeks and messy black hair. He rubs at his sleepy eyes, barely able to keep them open. But when he looks at you and you look at him, it’s like a telepathic message is sent. “Can’t make it?” “Yeah,” Min Yoongi responds in a husky tone as if he just got up from a nap, but plans to take another. “It’s okay.” But is it? — Really. — Is this okay? There’s nothing you can really do even if all your insides are crying. What? Should you just drop to the ground and start crying? You’re going to need at least five shots before you throw a temper tantrum at your workplace. Things get busy, life gets busy, people get busy. You’re more than understanding and it’s just lunch. There will be plenty more opportunities to come. So… “It’s fine,” you reassure the lawyer in front of you who has her bottom lip quivering and her brows furrowed deep enough you’re certain that wrinkles will permanently mar her skin. “I’m so, so sorry. I know you were looking forward to this. I just had no idea that my schedule was already booked up with a client. I….I could change it and we can still go out—” “Don’t be ridiculous.” You laugh, thankful that she’s worried this much over it. At least it’s better than the times in High School where people invited you out and didn’t even show up because ‘it’s just a prank, bro’. Your hand goes to gently squeeze Sunyi’s shoulder, channeling your maternal voice that doesn’t really exist to soothe her. “We can do this some other day. I’m gonna be around for a long time, so there will be plenty more opportunities. Just focus on work since that’s what you’re here to do anyways. It’s really not that big of a deal.” “Okay, thank you,” Sunyi breathes a long sigh of relief, happy that you didn’t take the unfortunate circumstances to heart. Little does she know just how disappointed you are. Reminds you of that time your mom promised you to go to Disneyland and you ended up Chuck E. Cheese instead. // At twelve o’clock sharp, Hoseok appears at your door with his phone in hand. You stare at him, waiting for him to say something as he stares at the screen and his thumbs move, probably texting someone important. It’s an awkward thirty seconds that feel like a whole two minutes before he puts down the device and looks at you. He frowns and takes a peek out your door. “Is there no one else?” “No.” You scratch the back of your neck before putting your palms in your lap. “Everyone is busy.” It’s only you and him. You’re not sure how you feel about that; maybe partly tense and apprehensive while the other part doesn’t mind so much. “Okay.” Hoseok shrugs nonchalantly, hands in his coat pockets. “There’s no point in going then.” “Oh...yeah…” You stand up awkwardly, trying to shuffle past him. Your stomach makes a noise that doesn’t sound too healthy and you hope he can’t hear it. “I’ll uh...I’ll just grab something from the kitchen then.” “Wait.” He stops you, grabbing your wrist before you can run off. When he realizes he’s touched you without permission, he lets go right away, mumbling some kind of apology before you tell him it’s fine. “You didn’t bring anything with you?” He asks and you don’t answer. Jung Hoseok must read your expression like an open book because then he smiles slightly. “Okay, nevermind, let’s go.” “Pardon?” “Just the two of us,” he says and walks off, making you stumble behind him and try to match his wide, fast strides. The lawyer glances over his shoulder towards you. “You don’t mind right?” “I...I don’t mind.” Except a one-on-one lunch with your boss is not what you envisioned. Instead of the fancy italian cafe, you follow his lead into a hole-in-the-wall. It’s a warm and cozy atmosphere, with two or three other tables full. Interestingly enough, they serve comfort food and the menu is deprived of a variety of different cultures. You end making an order of porridge with a side of mac and cheese and he orders curry with cold noodles. It’s served quickly and all at the same time, so you don’t hesitate to dig in. The only problem is when silence settles down, you’re not sure what to say. You’re not even sure where to look. Glancing up and locking your eyes with his only makes it more excruciatingly awkward. “You know, I already told you that you don’t have to tiptoe around me,” Hoseok mutters and takes a large bite, looking up at you with his arm propped up on the table, holding a spoon and completely amused as he gawks at you. “What?” “You’re always stiff and nervous around me. But I won’t bite your head off…….probably.” “I’m not nervous,” you defend yourself even when it’s a massive lie. Hoseok laughs and almost chokes on his food. “Yeah, you are. Your eyes keep shifting and I can see that you’re beginning to sweat. You know…” He leans closer like he’s about to exchange a secret. “...makes it seem like you did something wrong or you’re a criminal. Last I checked, I’m not a criminal attorney, so I’m not sure I can help you if you did something illegal.” You take a spoonful of the porridge, letting the taste linger on your tongue for a second before you stuff your cheek to chew a bit and swallow it down. “The only illegal thing I’ve one is steal someone’s wifi and probably jaywalking.” “Wait, I should record this confession for evidence,” he teases with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a massive grin. You wonder if the other people at this office know this side of him. “These are very serious crimes. How many times have you jaywalked and who’s wifi have you stolen?” “Oh please.” You roll your eyes. “You act like you haven’t done anything ‘illegal’ either.” He scoffs at how you use air quotations with your fingers, also slightly offended. “Just letting you know, I live a very morally upright life. I don’t break the law. I work for the law. In fact, I am the law.” “Yeah, right.” You click your tongue in feigned annoyance, muffling back some laughter. “What about that time you were drunk and passed out in front of the library? Made me have to drag you back. That’s public intoxication.” “I did what?” Your eyes go wide. Right. He doesn’t remember. You might’ve gotten too carried away, too caught up when he’s sitting right across from you, and it’s only you and him. But there’s no going back now, you might as well mess with him. “Or that time you shoplifted an entire refrigerator. And that time you started a pimp business to pay off your loans. Those were the days, right, Hoseok?” “No way.” He leans back and crosses his arms, trying to repress his laughter that threatens to spill over. “I would never. That’s something I can’t believe. You need to come up with more reasonable lies than that, Y/N.” Your food is left abandoned when you’re trying hard not to break into hysterical laughter. “So you believe how you wanted to piss in a library book, but ended up passing out in front of the library instead?” There’s a long held silence. “That…..I can believe.” A cheeky grin is plastered on your face, making your jaw ache a bit and you take a few more bites before your pupils flicker up. “Thanks, by the way. Just thought I’d say that.” “For what?” He eats, chewing and swallowing, taking a sip of his water in the process. “This. I mean...you didn’t have to come along with me.” “You make it sound like I’m going to treat you to this.” The lawyer points a fork towards you and narrows his eyes while the corner of his mouth twitches oh so slightly. “Is that your tactic? You think I’m going to pay for your meal?” “No!” You can’t help your giggles. “That’s not what I’m trying to say!” “I can see right through you.” He has a playful smile and eyes you. The glare is less sharp and pointed, lacking real animosity or frustration. It’s much cuter and the stark contrast from him outside and joking around to his professionalism in the office nearly gives you whiplash. “I saw your photo on the firm’s website.” It’s a little out of nowhere, but the thought pops into your head as you stare at the man. “And no offence, but you look way better in real life. You’re not photogenic at all.” “Is that an insult?” Jung Hoseok gasps theatrically and you wonder why he didn’t just major in drama and become a comedic actor. He seems to have a knack for it. “It’s not!” “Or are you trying to say I’m handsome?” He puts down his utensil and nods. “Oh, I see. You don’t want me to pay for your meal. Thinking big picture, huh? You’re trying to say I’m a lot more handsome in real life because you want a raise, don’t you?!” “I never said that!” At this point, the two of you are so loud that a few patrons are looking over, but none of you notice. He twists your words so much, it’s ridiculous and you’re left baffled and laughing. Maybe it was right for him to be a lawyer after all. “You think I wouldn’t see your strategy.” He scrapes his bowl, eating everything that’s left while mischievously shaking his head in feigned disapproval. “Trying to boost my ego for a raise. How low is that. But what’s even more unbelievable is that it’s working. Keep going.” You laugh again, this time refusing to utter even one syllable or make a sound. Hoseok finishes eating in the meanwhile and you pierce the carrots on your plate, putting it on his clean one. He looks up at you with brows raised. “You hate carrots? I never thought you’d be a picky eater.” “No, I don’t hate it,” you muse. “You like it, don’t you?” If it’s possible, his brows raise even higher. “How did you know?” You shrug, looking away from him. “Let’s just say, I really want that raise.” “Pft.” He pierces the carrot with the fork, inhaling it all at once and chews thoughtfully. “You better not be stalking me.” “I won’t need to if I get a little somethin’-somethin’.” You rub your fingers on one hand together, indicating a thick wad of cash and he grins, eating the carrot happily. A few months ago, if someone told you that one day you’d be sitting across from Hoseok and actually conversing and even laughing like normal adults, you would’ve probably floored the gas pedal of your taxi to get away in fear of that person being absolutely insane. You expected to have lunch with coworkers and perhaps establish friendships out of the workplace. You definitely didn’t think you’d end up rekindling some kind of ancient relationship with your boss. But you don’t mind at all. It’s just more than what you bargained for in the best way possible.

#bts fanfic #hoseok fluff #hoseok fanfic #bts fanfiction #hoseok #BTS JUNG HOSEOK is not 100% an asshole?! *insert surprised pikachu meme*#OC as a full-time HR manager and part-time taxi driver WHO JUST WANTS TO HAVE LUNCH WITH HER FELLOW CO-WORKERS BECAUSE SHE LIKES THEM #BUT GODDAMMIT IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR?!

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dyaz-stories · 6 years ago

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Take A Chance on Me (Lemon)

The (smutty) second part to my one-shot on Inuyasha and Kagome meeting at a wedding. So, erm, yeah. Lemon ahead — please don’t read if you’re not comfortable with that stuff. Otherwise, I hope you’ll enjoy!

Tagging: @eternalnight8806-3 @noviceotakus-blog @keichanz

Inuyasha wasn’t too sure what was going on. Sure, there was the alcohol in his system, clouding his mind and senses at least a little, and Kagome was drinking as well, but he was pretty certain it wasn’t all that was happening. There was something else, in the way she tilted her head, in her smile, and in those beautiful, beautiful blue eyes of hers.

But there sure as hell was something in his behavior as well. In the growls that left his throat, which he knew was the expression of the most animalistic side of him and in the way he reached out to touch her. It was probably a bad idea, and at any other time, he would probably have stopped himself. He’d be back into his role as the lawyer. Distant, careful, and a complete asshole, according to most people.

Yet right now, his hand was running on her arm as he listened to her talking about her job. Apparently, she worked as a teacher in a somewhat specialized school that received demons, half-demons and humans, including humans with spiritual powers. He noticed, of course, the way her breath hitched and her pulse quickened as he touched her, and how her smell slowly shifted into arousal.

Everything about her was overwhelming. Her scent, obviously, becoming more and more clear to him underneath her perfume as the night went on, but also her voice that was surprisingly soothing to him, and the feeling of her skin under his fingers.

He grinned when she interrupted herself at a new movement of his claws that had oh so slowly made their way up her arms to reach her neck.

When her eyes plunged into his again he could clearly read the hunger, the want in them. They soon moved from his eyes to his mouth, and his grin widened just a little.

“See something you like?” his voice came out as a low growl, probably betraying his own state more than he would have wanted to, but fuck, she didn’t realize just how enticing she smelled.

She smiled and nodded, biting her lower lip seductively, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. She was the only thing he’d been paying any attention to for a while now, but suddenly there was nothing else. Nothing but her and how much he wanted to get a taste of her.

She was the first one to lean in, wrapping his tie around her fingers to pull him closer, earning herself another growl from him; one that was a little more dangerous this time. She met his eyes again, briefly, and then, fucking finally, filled the gap between them, pressing her mouth against his.

He closed his eyes, immediately taking the opportunity to slide his tongue in her mouth, receiving a small whimper that he swallowed as her fingers traced his jawline to end in his hair, making him groan again as she pulled him a little closer. His own hand traitorously went for her waist, desperate to get her closer, to have her body against his, to—

She pulled away and he stared at her for a second, confused and a little worried — had she wanted this? Had he gone too far? — but the playful smile she shot him as she hastily stood up, grabbing his hand in hers and starting to walk away, forcing him to follow, reassured him.

If that hadn’t done it, the heat he could feel practically radiating from her and the always more intense smell of arousal coming from her definitely would have.

They crossed the entire room and it was only midway that he realized where they were heading, making him understand what exactly was going to happen. His mind started to run wild then, getting an already rather awake part of him to twitch to attention. He gritted his teeth, trying to focus on her and what they were going to do once they’d be inside this bathroom, which’d better be fucking free by the way, or else he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

Probably try do drag her to his car.

Thankfully, said bathroom was free. He didn’t bother looking around to check that no one saw them walking in there, because quite frankly, at the moment, he couldn’t have cared less.

The second the door was closed and locked behind them, he was on her. He easily lifted her up on the sink, careful not to hurt her as his large, clawed hands grabbed her thighs, but from the way she shivered at the touch, she certainly didn’t mind.

Almost immediately, she grabbed his hair while her other hand pulled on his tie again, pressing him against her again and letting a needy, pleading sound escape her mouth when he kissed her again. He smiled against her.

“Careful. Wouldn’t want people to hear us.”

She chuckled against his mouth while her hand quickly started unbuttoning his white shirt, her hands running on any bit of skin she could find and immediately setting it on fire.

“Oh, I’m not loud. The question is, are you?”

Fuck. If he’d thought he couldn’t get any harder, he was clearly wrong.

“Is that a challenge?”

She bit her lip as she wrapped her legs around him, getting him close to her and then efficiently rolling her hips once, managing to get an inarticulate growl out of her.

“It’s a promise,” she whispered, pulling on his tie again to kiss him sensually, her tongue dancing with his and testing his fangs with curiosity.

He let out a growl as he pushed her dress higher, roaming his hands on her thighs, refusing to lose to her just yet, even if she was already driving him absolutely fucking crazy when she was barely trying.

His mouth left hers for her neck where he planted a few biting kisses, resisting the urge to suck on the skin and leave his mark there. They were still at her sister’s — his ex — wedding. She probably wouldn’t appreciate it. Not to mention, they’d just met, and even if he already felt fucking territorial, maybe she just wanted sex and to be done with it, though he found the thought to be highly unpleasant.

She certainly seemed to like the way his fangs grazed against their skin, if the movement of her hips was anything to go by, and it made him want to please her even more, to get to fucking move against him again. She was right though. Apart from the discreet moans that escaped her, she wasn’t particularly loud. Made him appreciate the sounds he managed to get out of her even more.

Grabbing his hair, she pushed him towards her mouth again, kissing him slower as her hands travelled on his body, tracing his muscles at a devilish pace, making him burn and yearn for more. Finally, her hand plunged in his pants, making him groan loudly as she stroked his length deliberately slowly.

“Holy shit, Kagome,” he breathed against her mouth. He didn’t what to ask for. Her, right now, or for her to just fucking not stop, because he didn’t know how he’d take it if she did.

She gasped as he pressed himself into her a little more.

“Shit,” she mumbled, and he had a feeling she didn’t swear that often. Another time, she would love to take her sweet time teasing him — or to have him tease her. Would love to explore his body and that delicious chest of his with her mouth, would love to have him and those claws and fangs on every inch of her skin. But right now she wanted him.

Moving herself away briefly, she tried to wriggle herself out of her knickers, feeling grateful when he helped her, pulling her up with only one hand and carefully sliding them down her legs instead of merely tearing them into pieces.

He swallowed once they were out of the way. “Are you clean?” she asked him then. She knew demons and half-demons supposedly couldn’t spread illnesses and she was on the pill, but hey, better safe than sorry.

He nodded once. “Are ya…”

“I’m good, Inuyasha. I want you. Now.”

He smirked at her once more. “Your wish is my command.”

And then he entered her, slowly, giving her time to adjust despite how much he just wanted to be inside her right fucking now. She hummed quietly in approval, closing her eyes and throwing her head back, and the vision of her complete abandon just turned him on even more, which he hadn’t thought was even possible at this point.

She was wet and warm, so ready, feeling so fucking good around him.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, burying his head in his neck. “You’re… This… Shit, Kagome.” She laughed again, softly, wrapping one arm around him and pushing against the sink so she’d be able to move. As soon as she did, he came undone, his instincts probably the only thing that made him move in rhythm with her. Not that a bathroom was the perfect place for that kind of activity, but he wanted to make sure she got something out of this, that he made her feel as good as she was right now.

With a grunt, he pushed himself against her closer and she let out a slightly louder moan, which made him grin as he secured his grip on her ass, letting her ride him and control the situation mostly. He groaned again at a particular angle, and Kagome smiled, kissing him briefly before throwing her head back again, keeping her hips moving.

His eyes went to the mirror behind them, and it was the sight that made him almost lose it instantly. Her back moving, her messy hair, her red dress lifted up and having fallen from one shoulder, the mark he’d apparently left there despite trying not to… She was fucking beautiful. His. Even if it was just for now.

“Kagome, ‘m going to…”

“J-just a sec!”

Her voice was higher than before, breathier too, and he guessed that he was still affecting her quite a bit, even if she didn’t express it with her voice.

Finally, her body arched against him in silent release, her eyes closed shut. He pulled out, releasing mostly in the sink — would have been pretty troublesome for her to clean up in here — but then froze as she kept holding him. He wrapped his own arms loosely around her waist, making sure she could get away if she wanted to, and nuzzled his head into her hair, breathing her in, enjoying the mix of their smells more than he remembered ever doing before.

She took in a long, ragged breath, and left a soft kiss on his neck before pushing him away hesitantly, even if her hand didn’t let go of his shirt. She slid down from the sink with a grimace and stood on wobbly legs.

“You’re okay?” he asked, frowning.

She nodded, her cheeks bright red as she seemed to avoid looking at him. She clumsily pulled her knickers back up and then proceeded to button his shirt up again.

He stared at her, expecting something — anything — telling him what to think and what to expect. Rejection, if it had to be, but anything other than silence and her acting like… Like she cared.

Finally, when she arrived at his tie, that had been considerably loosened by their… activities, she arranged it easily, her eyes finally meeting his. She opened her mouth, clearly hesitant, and he found himself leaning in, kissing her again. She sighed softly, like she’d been waiting exactly for that, and she fisted his shirt, refusing to let go of him.

The kiss was slow, sensual, and the noise echoed in the bathroom, but it did feel like a spell had been broken, and soon Inuyasha was just well too aware of where they were.

“I… I should go first,” Kagome whispered, and he nodded, wondering what he’d been thinking exactly. That she’d— “But… I can, erm, meet you outside? And we can, er… Go…”

He stared at her in disbelief as she rambled, acting all shy again despite what they’d just done here.

“My place,” he offered, his voice raspy as his mind started travelling once more and dammit, not now. “I’ll follow after you.”

She nodded quickly and stepped out, giving him another smile that was just so full of joy that it made him feel all dizzy and shit.

He didn’t particularly believe in love at first sight, but it would have been just stupid of him to deny that there was something there. Something that made him wait in here just thinking about what had just happened, and, though as always, he tried to keep himself from hoping too much, about what was to come.

He was ready to go get her, take her home, and spend at least one wonderful night with her when he walked out of the bathroom.

Not to find her standing there.

Talking to Kikyo.

He tensed immediately, and when Kikyo’s eyes fell on him and widened just a little, he realized that they’d just been caught, by literally the worst person imaginable.

Shit.

“Really?” Kikyo simply asked, raising an eyebrow. “At my wedding?”

Kagome turned around and shot a desperate look at Inuyasha, clearing her throat hesitantly. “Well…”

She didn’t know what to say. Even if Kikyo was completely over him, which she could only assume she was, she had never taken too kindly to people taking away what was hers — and she tended to think that if something had been hers, it should stay that way.

Before she could find a response, Kikyo shook her head and rolled her eyes. She probably knew just as well as Kagome that they wouldn’t see each other again. And yeah, it was a bit sad, because they were sisters, because there probably should have been something between them, but it was long gone.

“Have a nice life, Kagome,” she simply said curtly, with maybe just a bit of disdain in her voice.

“You too, Kikyo,” Kagome murmured with a sadder tone. Kikyo nodded, and walked away, her high heels clicking on the ground.

Inuyasha walked to her, his arm hesitantly sliding around her waist, unsure of what their boundaries were at the moment.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low.

Kagome sighed, but nodded. She was fine, even if she probably shouldn’t have been. She smiled at him. Yes, she was pretty sure she was right for taking a chance with him. “Let’s get out of here.”

It was his turn to take a chance and her, and he had no intention to waste it. So he tightened his grip around her, as if to reassure himself, to check that she was really there, and he did as she had told him.

He took her away.

For the night, and hopefully, for much, much longer than that.

#inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha au #my writing #lemon

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master-sass-blast · 6 years ago

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Henlo, it's me, your local trash monster here to say I love Hannah and I can't wait to hear more about her?? That being said, GIMME ALL THE SAD GOODS ABOUT HER. But also add in something happy about her in the end! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ ((Also sending hugs! I know things have been stressful the last few days so just know I'm rooting for you !!))

Holy fuck I think this is the first time someone’s ever told me to cut loose and just SAY ALL THE THINGS AND I’M SO EXCITED!!!! :D

(Answers under the cut because I just went with the entire list. I have no self control.

And thank you for the hugs and encouragement!)

1. What is one word to shut them up: Okay, for some context, Hannah is a lawyer. She has a thick skin (unlike me, heyoooo). It takes a lot to shut her up; she’s an HBIC and she owns it.

But if someone starts talking about her scars (she’s struggled/struggles with self-harm), she shuts down. It’s a part of her she’s still self-conscious about, and if someone mentions it she’ll literally stop mid-sentence and mentally exit the conversation.

2. What is the thing they feel the most guilty about: Again, she’s got a pretty thick skin, so she doesn’t hold onto too much. Life happens, you make mistakes, and it’s better to learn from them rather than beat yourself over the head for something you can’t change anyway.

If there’s something she’s going to feel guilty about, though, it’s fights or incidents she’s had with family members/close friends where she’s hurt them with something she’s said or done. She holds herself in high accountability to ensure that she doesn’t step all over people, and when she does she fails not only them but her expectations for herself, so yeah. Guilt.

3. What is the worst pain they’ve ever experienced: Physical pain? Probably different injuries from her career in martial arts. She’s a tough cookie, but some of that stuff just hurts.

Emotional pain? Anytime she fails her expectations for herself. She has very high standards for herself, and when she can’t reach them she becomes very depressed (more so than usual).

4. Describe their worst nightmare: Actual dream? Anything where she’s drowning or running out of air. She almost drowned a couple times as a child/preteen, and the trauma still emerges in her adult life from time to time.

Real life “this is a nightmare” scenario? Any point where her depression gets so bad that she stops being functional. Things just start piling up and get overwhelming very quickly.

5. List 3 fears; one “surface level” fear, one “repressed” fear, and one “deep dark” fear: 1.) Drowning, which runs pretty deep but it’s an obvious one that she’s done a lot of therapy work for, and she doesn’t mind talking about it with other people. 2.) Wasps. She accidentally got locked into a shed with an active wasp nest in it as a child. She made it out alright, but the sheer terror of the situation made her repress the memory. She’s heard the story from friends and family, and “gets” why she’s scared of the fuckers, but can’t actually recall the incident itself. 3.) The dark. A side effect of depression is paranoia, and when she’s alone, in the dark, she can’t shake the feeling that there’s some sort of creature watching/following her. When her depression gets really bad, she has to sleep with a light on to keep from flipping out.

6. What is something that never fails to make them feel sick: She’s not naturally squeamish, but the sounds of belching (ala college frat boys, y’all know what I mean) make her stomach churn.

7. What feature (physical or otherwise) do they hate most about themselves: Her scars. She’s very ashamed of them, and goes out of her way to wear long sleeved shirts so she can hide them.

8. Do they have anything that triggers them: Feeling like she’s failed her own expectations/expectations others have of her, accidentally inhaling water, the ‘buzzing’ sound bees/wasps make.

9. What is their greatest physical weakness: Her height. She might be a kickass lawyer and an even kick-assier martial artist, but she barely clears five feet.

10. What is their greatest mental weakness: Her struggles with self-hatred. She’s her own worst enemy a lot of the time.

11. Do they have any vices: Not really. Not as far as serious vices go. She’s pretty grounded.

12. Have they ever done something illegal? What was it: Nope. She knew she wanted to be a lawyer from day one and made sure her record was spotless.

13. Which of the 7 Deadly Sins best describes them: Pride? I think that one comes closest? Again, since she really doesn’t have a vice or a thorn in her side, it’s hard to pick something for her.

I think Pride comes closest because she spirals when she fails to live up to her own expectations, which I think often comes with a bit of ego (at least in my experience with that sort of thing). She’s also got a lot to be proud of (lawyer, martial artist, financially independent), but she’s not a walking ego either?

Idk. This is a weird question, lol.

14. Are they prone to outbursts (of violence, extreme emotion… exc… ): Not really. Don’t get me wrong, she can get there, but it takes a lot. She’s very collected (and usually swings the opposite way; she’s more likely to cold shoulder you if she’s mad).

She does threaten to shove her Prada stiletto sideways up Hank Pym’s ass, though. So there’s that.

15. Who do they hate the most: Guys who use her height against her by cornering her into spots while they try to ask her out/talk to her about something. It’s the fastest way to wind up on her shit list.

16. Is there anyone who makes them feel inferior: Herself. She’s her own worst enemy.

17. What sound always gives them a headache: Her coworker Tracey’s text/notification sound. Which is always going off because Tracey’s always talking to someone.

18. Is there a certain flavor that disgusts them: Not really. She’s half Japanese, half ethnic Jew, and a practicing Jew to boot, so she grew up on a pretty broad flavor palette.

She’s tried a bacon cheeseburger once on a dare, though, and she hated it.

19. Do they consider themselves ugly: Not really (outside of her scars). She’s pretty confident in her appearance.

20. Do they consider themselves unloveable: Again, not really. She’s spent a lot of time in therapy, which helps, but she’s always had her feet pretty well on the ground.

21. What is something that causes them great anxiety: The prospect of losing. She’s very competitive.

22. Do they have any mental illnesses: Depression.

23. Have they ever been assaulted/abused/raped: She’s run into the usual guys that like to try and use her size against her, but they usually wind up worse for wear than she does.

24. Do they fear the possibility of being assaulted/abused/raped: Yes. She’s five feet tall and doesn’t clear 110 lbs. She’s very aware that she’s got “TARGET” written across her back.

25. Have they ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust: Fortunately, no. Most of her close relationships come from communities she knows well (school, work, the temple she attends in LA), so she hasn’t had to deal with too much betrayal.

26. Have they ever been seriously injured: Yes. Even outside of her struggles with self-harm, she’s a martial artist. She’s broken a few bones over the years from that.

27. How many times have they been in the hospital: Five. Three for some pretty drastic self harm incidents, and two from sparring injuries.

28. Is there a certain type of person that disgusts them: Obviously, she has frustrations with asshole guys, racists/anti-Semites, but she cannot stand people who work in organizations that prey on the disenfranchised (ala military recruiters going to schools in impoverished areas to fill their quota because they know how to trick the kids into trying out and all that). It gets her blood boiling fast.

29. Does what they cannot see scare them: Yes. Again, this shows perfectly with her fear of the dark.

30. Have they ever been bullied: Yupp. For her heritage, her beliefs, her mental health struggles, her size... High school sucks.

31. Do they have self-confidence or self-image issues: Yes and no. Again, she’s pretty confident about most things in life, but she does have certain weak points (her scars, living up to her own expectations, her height).

32. Do they have a bad relationship with their parents: Actually, no! She has a good relationship with both her parents and her extended family!

33. Have they ever been in a relationship that didn’t work out so well: Not in the drastic sense of things. She’s been through a few break ups, sure, but nothing that was abusive or crazy.

34. Have they ever self harmed: Yes. It’s something she still struggles with as an adult.

35. If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be: Her scars. She’d make them disappear.

36. Are they in control of their emotions, or are their emotions in control of them: She’s pretty well in control of her emotions.

37. Have they ever had their freedom taken away: Not really, no.

38. Have they ever been imprisoned: Nope.

39. Have they ever been accused of something they didn’t do: Not in any serious sense. Her reputation for toeing the line was too well known for her to be accused of something she didn’t do.

40. Do they often blame themselves for other people’s problems: She did as a teenager, but dutiful therapy and self-care has helped her outgrow that habit.

41. Do they get sick often: Nope! She’s pretty healthy.

42. Are they comfortable with where they are in life: She’s content, but not complacent.

43. Do they wish that they could change their pasts: Yes. Again, she doesn’t like her history with self-harm. If she could erase that, she would.

44. What’s one thing they wish they could do more often, but can’t: Travel. Her job’s pretty demanding as far as hours go.

45. What is the emotion they most commonly experience: Melancholy. No matter what she’s doing, it’s sort of always hanging around her, like a tiny cloud.

46. Have they ever contemplated suicide: Yes. Unfortunately, it’s a side effect of the depression.

47. Have they ever gone so far as to attempt suicide: A couple of times, when she was teenager.

48. Is there anyone that they would willingly kill: Outside of self-defense/the defense of others? No.

49. If [name] was put into ______ situation, they’d rather die than live to see it through: Being forced to reject her identities as a Jew/person of Japanese heritage. Her families have made it through so much (internment camps, persecution, the Holocaust), and she’d rather die than erase her own identity.

50. Create your own: Alright, I’m gonna put the happy one here so we end on a high note!

She’s a firm believer in the need for “mah” (the Japanese word for “emptiness), or a moment to pause and do nothing. It’s easy to see that reflected in how she practices meditation, follows Shabbat, or takes time each day to simply be.

However, she also believes that the principle of “mah” is what makes her and Luis work so well as a couple. She is the silence to his constant chatter and helps him keep his feet on the ground. Likewise, he keeps her from living inside her head and helps her connect to the world.

They’re just such opposites attract. Ugh, I love them so much!

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alightwhendarknessfell · 7 years ago

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My American Satan Review

So I will place any spoilers below the read more line for those that have either already seen the film or don’t plan on seeing it.

I have been waiting for this movie to come out since it was announced. Clearly, I am a bit bias by the fact that I’m a huge Black Veil Brides fan, but I really was interested in the plot. I went and saw the film last night (in cosplay), and I have to say I enjoyed every second of it. It’s got its faults, and it’s clearly and indie film but it’s one of the best indie films I’ve ever seen.

I’ve decided to make a list of the pros and cons of the movie, so here we go.

Pros

The storyline is absolutely incredible. There is so much thought put into even the smallest of details. It’s one of those films where each time you watch it you pick up another little detail. The concept of rock bands/musicians making deals with Satan is a very popular one and it’s honestly shocking this movie hasn’t been made before. It follows the story of Job where the devil and God fight it out over who Job will ultimately follow. Andy’s character ‘Johnny’ is clearly based off Job. Clearly it also follos the story of Faust (aka why the main character is Johnny Faust) who makes a deal with the devil in exchange for knowledge and success.

There are actually plot twists that I didn’t see coming (see spoilers)

Booboo Stewart is a gorgeous man.. like seriously

I like that there are clearly things that happen or aspects of the film that are based off of Andy’s actual experiences moving out to Hollywood

There are some really funny parts to the film, but also some VERY dark parts.

Ben Bruce is actually an incredible actor

My expectations for Andy’s acting weren’t too high and there were some parts where it was kind of poor but overall he channeled the character and the character’s emotions very well

The ending leaves open the possibility that the story isn’t over

Remington was a PERFECT choice for vocals, the soundtrack and songs made for the movie are amazing. Seriously if you watch it the song ‘Let Him Burn’ gets a whole new meaning

Since there are actual musicians in the film, it really does paint a very accurate picture of what the life of a rock star is really like. The film doesn’t shy away from the pretty horrific side of it.

Mr. Capricorn plays an amazing devil holy shit, he was the perfect choice

The casting was done very well, everyone’s character is very believable

Cons

There is WAY to much story packed into two hours. The film follows the band from their start then over their 2 years rise to fame. It would often times get confusing as to how much time had passed. There weren’t dates included in different scenes so it was hard to follow the progression. Especially when it came to the drugs, rehab, court dates, etc. It didn’t feel like two years had passed.

There were some major plot holes where it felt like things were left out. For instance (minor spoiler) the band knows automatically that Mr. Capricorn is the devil right after meeting him. To me, it would take a bit more than just one talk with someone to go from not believing in the devil to thinking that you’re sitting with him.

Gretchen’s character and Johnny’s mom weren’t that good

There were some parts that were not believable, won’t get into them but some things would happen and I would go “yeah right”

The news interviews were kind of cheesy

Johnny’s rehab scene was incredibly unbelievable (more in spoilers)

All in all, though the film was very well done. The acting was, for the most part, good and the movie LOOKED good. I would recommend it if you’re into the emo/rock/metal scene or like Asking Alexandria/Black Veil Brides. It’s not so much horror/thriller but darker. I would also recommend it if you like films with deeply religious themes or important lessons.The film makes you think which I like. My mom went to see it with me (she also liked it) and we’ve both spent the whole day just going over parts of the plot. I liked that the ending isn’t exactly ‘happy ever after’ as well. And what really won me over was just the amazing plot and writing. I plan on maybe even seeing it again and I’m for sure going to buy it when it comes out on DVD. I do feel like if this film was done by a major movie company it would become a cult classic.

I’m giving the film two ratings before I go into spoilers. One from the perspective on an indie film and one for overall.

Overall: 3.5/5 Indie: 4.25/5

Spoilers below

So here are my spoilers that I just wanted to give my opinion on. I’m just going to do points and talk about them.

The ‘Let Him Burn’ Scene: This is hands down one of my favorite scenes from the movie. When the band makes a human sacrifice by burning the local asshole (forgot his name) alive in a van, it was really well done. Instantly you know that Johnny has chosen the devil. He, of course, changes his mind and frees the guy who then is electrocuted but the hesitance in that decision really shows that he has evil in him. This is the evil that Mr. Capricorn exploits. The rest of the band stands by and lets Johnny take the lead. It sets up the film perfectly because while the rest of the band members sort of keeping their souls, for the most part, Johnny completely loses his. Later on in the fight scene at the country bar where Andy once again kills is another amazing scene.

Is Lilly Mr. Capricorn?: About halfway through the film, I started to suspect that Lilly may, in fact, be the devil/Mr. Capricorn. She’s deeply involved in satanic imagery (Satanic brothel hello). She’s the one who gets Johnny to start doing heroin then fucks him and answers the phone so that Johnny’s girlfriend hears the whole thing. Also, she insists that HE be the one to shoot up, which follows with the whole the devil doesn’t make you do things, he encourages you to do them yourself. She is also never around when Mr. Capricorn is. The band even says “should we tell Lilly?”. Another important point was that she was not around during the conversation with Mr. Capricorn in the bar nor at the human sacrifice. She constantly leads Johnny into danger and temptation. In the final kill scene, Mr. Capricorn tells Johnny that he is in fact who Johnny has been fucking (also fucking his mom). The question of whether he is actually Lilly is left open. Personally, I think Mr. Capricorn does take different forms, Lilly being one of them. Which means the whole time Johnny has been literally fucking the devil (which is a pretty bad ass plot twist).

Gabriel/Mr. Capricorn: The older black man that Andy keeps running into throughout the film is Gabriel. He and Mr. Capricorn seem to take turns trying to steer Johnny in their direction. This goes back to the whole story of Job. He kept warning Johnny throughout the film but Johnny doesn’t listen. In the very beginning of the movie when he asks Johnny to watch his stuff while he goes into the liquor/convenience store I feel that it was a test. Johnny doesn’t leave the man’s stuff or steal it and instead waits for him to come back. When Johnny looks in Gabriel’s bag there is no liquor in it, just food. To me, this signifies the ability to resist temptation exists. Gabriel also gives Johnny an apple before leaving (the forbidden fruit). Gabriel also makes a comment in the final performance of how they’re both on this stage but got there different ways.

The Heroin Scene: This was another favorite scene of mine. It was pretty graphic of a scene but then again doing heroin is no joke. I felt like this was a very important moment in the film because it signify’s Johnny going off the deep end. In my opinion, I do think that Lilly and Mr. Capricorn are the same people. So that means that Johnny literally shoots up heroin and has sex with the devil.

The CNN Interview: This to me the funniest part of the movie. Vic is tripping on acid during the band’s interview with CNN and I just thought it was a beautifully done scene.

Johnny’s Rehab: This was my least favorite part of the film. Heroin is one of the HARDEST drugs to kick. It was very hard to believe (with no time frame given) that all Johnny had to do was go to this monk(?) rehab facility and meditate and then boom he’s clean. In fact, even the dope sick scene where he can’t go on stage isn’t very realistic. I’ve seen people dope sick they often are violently ill and I felt like it could have been portrayed better. Johnny was just sitting on the floor and coughed a few times then they shoot him up and boom all better.

The Ending: The ending kind of confused me. So he’s in jail for murdering Mr. Capricorn on stage but it was self-defense? Then the dad of the kid they killed, in the beginning, offers to get him off? I was paying pretty close attention but I still feel like I missed something. Is he going back to the band? He gives this kind of evil smirk at the end which makes me think that in fact, the devil is still working in his favor. He’s once again going to get away with murder. Johnny says that the devil will keep coming back, and in my opinion, I think the lawyer may be the new reincarnation of him.

And finally, I have my own kind of Andley inspired comments.

Parallels to Ashley Purdy: I have no way of knowing if this was on purpose or if I’m just reading a lot into it but I noticed a lot of parallels to Andy and Ashley’s relationship with Johnny and Lilly/Mr. Capricorn. First off Lilly is the bassist in the band. Mr. Capricorn/the devil tricks the naive Johnny into signing a contract with him essentially. Of course, it’s come out that Ashley had Andy sign a contract splitting the ownership of the band back when they first met. Lilly also tempts Johnny into doing heroin (Ashley has a past with this) and then ends up having sex with him.

#american satan #andy biersack #bvb #black veil brides #ben bruce #asking alexandria #andy black #andy six #booboo stewart #movie review

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amusewithaview · 7 years ago

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S1:E2 - “Wendigo” - spank your inner moppet and move on.

My main take-aways from this episode are that:

Baby Cory Monteith, pre-Glee! He looks far older in this than he did in Glee, which causes me significant cognitive dissonance since this... came out... before Glee? *jazz hands* TV MAGIC!

Sam is the kind of sociopathic that you see in emotionally immature young children who don’t yet have any acknowledgment of the emotional consequences of their actions. I literally paused the episode MULTIPLE TIMES to look at BQS, gesture emphatically, and yell, “LAWYER.”

Sam was going to be a lawyer? Really? Dear god, he is so shit with people it’s actually astonishing to me. From his emotionally probing questions which obviously are opening deep wounds in the psyches of the MOW’s victims/families to his SUPER IDIOTIC AND USELESS attempts to talk down gun-totin’ back woodsman Callum Keith Rennie, I am just. HOLY SHIT YOU ARE SO BAD AT PEOPLE, YOU WOULD HAVE MADE AN AWFUL LAWYER.

Speaking of conversations bringing up past trauma, do none of these people just develop rote, flippant answers to questions they’ve clearly been asked hundreds of times? All of the “victims” so far, ie: the people that Sam and/or Dean need to interview, have all the trauma right there, at the surface, just waiting for a probing question to catch them off guard and bring it all bubbling back up, which... I mean, yes but also no. I get that it’s to move the plot forward, but most people develop some sort of coping mechanism.

I did really like the whole conflict re Sam and Dean arguing over whether or not to bring the victim’s sister along. It was pretty clear that Dean was coming at it from a “if YOU were out there nothing could keep me from your side” angle whilst Sam was approaching from a “but if we TELL THIS GIRL THE TRUTH maybe it will KEEP HER SAFE.” These characterizations seem consistent with their respective traumas, so, yay.

Also every time Sam is an asshole, Dean gets this look on his face like, “That is NOT how I raised you, young man,” and I find this hilarious.

Wendigos are apparently made of marshmallow, since the slightest spark will cause them to catch fire, flame out, and then get all crispy on the outside and gooey on the inside.

Victim’s Sister: “I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

Dean: *smiles like he’s got at least fifteen graphic suggestions*

Victim’s Sister: *leans in, kisses him on the cheek* “I hope you find your father.”

Dean: *smile wipes away, replaced by emotionally vulnerable expression of deep wounding and hurt and this is the famed lady’s man I’ve heard about so often and with such detail? Really? This is a sad puppy. A pretty puppy, but a sad puppy nonetheless.*

Finally: the nightmare sequence in the beginning where the hand reaches out from the grave to grab Sam made me jump and shout JESUS FUCKING CHRIST and then BQS laughed at me and said, “And THIS is why we watch it during the day, Anna.”

#amusing supernatural barbecue #amuse watches media #i notice that someone named robert singer is involved in the making of this show #and apparently there is a character named bobby singer who is important later on #please tell me now all about the dangers and weirdness of women writing mary sues #and i will bring up this #and also moffat casting himself as sherlock's older brother #dean: *mocks sam for using the word corporeal but clearly knows and understands this word*#five minutes later #dean: *uses the word belligerent to describe himself*#that's a four syllable word there PROFESSOR

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itstimetowatch · 7 years ago

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Credit Where Credit’s Due

Episode Two, baby! Let’s go!

So Neptune has no middle class but it has multiple zip codes? Again, things that make very little sense. I guess I should stop harping on this point, and accept it as more metaphorical than literal. So the rich people all live in one zip code (and thus one side of town) while everyone else lives elsewhere… that tracks.

So in quick succession, I see that this episode has guest spots from Aaron Ashmore (aka Jimmy Olsen, aka Steve from Warehouse 13) and Paris motherfucking Hilton! Episode 2 (!) and we’re already resorting to stunt casting? And WOW! Is Paris not a good actress! Like not in the slightest.

Confrontation on the beach between the O9ers and the bikers from last episode (From this, I assume them to be frequently recurring. Do they have a name, like collectively?). I guess we’re hitting the class warfare theme pretty much immediately, here, huh?

And Logan goes right for the racial slurs… asshole.

The cops run the partygoers off and rather than trying to round anyone up for underage drinking they just go collect the kegs. This may be the single most accurate depiction of small-town law enforcement that I’ve ever seen on TV ever. Good job, show. 13/10

The next morning Sherriff Shithead shows up to arrest Weevil’s grandmother for identity theft. That was nicely done. The previous scene sets up that Weevil’s grandmother works as a housekeeper for Logan’s family, seemed like a throwaway line, but nope! Nice.

Sleazy Lawyer Guy is back! Excellent! He and Keith are associates, I guess?

Weevil (whose real name is Eli, it turns out) gives Veronica an earful about assumptions that she probably deserves.

Sherriff Shithead (whose real name is Lamb, pretty sure I’m sticking with Sherriff Shithead) barges into Veronica and Keith’s meal to dump some exposition on us. Apparently, it’s only just under a year since Lily Kane was murdered, which means the timeline of Veronica’s life going utterly to shit is even harsher than I previously thought.

Yep, Lily’s murder is officially sketchy as hell. Anonymous tip and no one comes forward to claim the reward money ($100k!), plus Sherriff Shithead seems super convinced, which means he must be wrong. This is a noir story, after all. The cops can’t possibly be right. That being said, Keith also can’t be right either, or else there’s no mystery to solve.

Troy is Boring Boy #2

Wallace is an office aide, which makes him Veronica’s man on the inside. I can see her getting him into trouble already.

God! Paris is terrible! Like all the respect in the world to her for turning a terrible violation of her privacy into a marketable name for herself, but man, take some of that mountain of money and buy some acting lessons if you’re going to be in movies and on TV. Please tell me this is a one-off appearance?

How exactly did Veronica “stab her friends in the back”? I was under the impression that she was socially ostracized due to a combination of Boring Boy #1 ghosting her and her dad accusing Jake Kane of murdering his daughter. What about that is Veronica’s doing? Is there more to this story?

Jake immediately plays the “I’m Jake Kane” Card. Ass.

That being said, this whole scene with them getting pulled over is, again, nicely constructed. The flashback shows that the car used to be Lily’s and then the deputy cites a moving violation dated the day that Lily was killed. That’s almost certainly a clue.

Oh my god! Veronica and Keith as good-cop/bad-cop areamazing! Please do this often!

Logan didn’t do it. Did you see that look when he turned away from Veronica?

Keith sassing Sherriff Shithead. Yes, more, please.

Look at all the flip phones! 2004 really shouldn’t seem like such a long time ago.

So Paris and Biker Guy #3 (Chardo?) are some half-assed Romeo and Juliet? Feh.

Ho shit! This just went to a scary place really quickly. Chardo is swarmed by a bunch of ultra-entitled white dudes in Ultra-Entitled White Dude Land. And holy shit they’re about to literally curb stomp him! It’s really incredible that this show can go from the funny of Keith’s overacting as the pissed off dad a couple of scenes ago to something genuinely uncomfortable like this in such a short amount of time.

What the fuck could Weevil have possibly said to diffuse that situation so quickly and easily?

Told you that ticket was a clue! Booyah!

(Also, don’t pay automated tickets. They’re complete and utter violation of your civil liberties!)

And Paris is ostracized and thus hopefully we never have to endure her “acting” again.

#veronica mars #season one #episode two #keith mars #weevil navarro

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clevernewdimension · 7 years ago

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Exhaulted Part Fourteen

Parts: Prologue, One, Two, Three (M), Four, Five, Six (M), Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen (Coming Soon!)

Genre: Drama, Romance, Violence, etc.

Pairing: SehunxReaderxMinseok

Word Count: 5.2K

A/N: RIP my heart holy shit.

For the second day in a row, I wake up laying on someone else’s bed. It felt nice, sleeping cuddled with someone else. I love to sleep, now that I have a good mattress, it’s lovely. Especially since now I could afford some nap time. Waking alone just seems lonely sometimes, though. I smile to myself as his heartbeat is soothingly rhythmic, trying to lull me back to sleep. I open my eyes slowly, seeing a hand playing with some of my hair. I snuggle closer to Sehun, him being so warm, I just wanted to keep sleeping. I could hear him chuckle, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me closer.

“What time is it,” I ask, looking up at meeting his eyes. He looked well rested thankfully, which meant he didn’t have a fitful sleep.

“It’s eight in the morning,” He mutters, “I’ve been up for a while. I didn’t have the heart to wake you, though…”

“You could have,” I mutter, wiping my eyes as I sit up, my voice groggy with sleep still.

“While you slept, I already texted and got a hair appointment. Didn’t want to wait until he’s too booked,” He says, sitting up too. “Unfortunately, Song wants to see me soon, so I’ll have to leave in a little while.”

At the mention of the acting King, I wince. It didn’t go unnoticed by Sehun, but he could tell I don’t want to speak about him right now, so he lets it go. “Go shower, I don’t want to be the reason why you’re late.”

“I’d much rather you be the reason why I don’t go,” He says with a small grin, wrapping his arms around me and hugging me. “Thank you, by the way. I didn’t remember saying it last night…”

“I feel like we spill our hearts out to one another a lot, huh,” I asked, hugging him back before turning and hopping off the bed. “Go on, go shower and get ready. Your morning breath is bad and mine must be just as terrible.”

I go to my room, quickly getting more clothes and getting into my shower as well. It was quick, as I got dressed. I checked my phone, seeing messages from Lina, Junmyeon, and Yixing. All three worried about Sehun. I didn’t know how to answer since Sehun’s never told his brothers or Lina who the person who hurt him was. Part of me knows that when Lina finds out, she’ll be devastated. Her father was a wonderful person who tries to help people around him. Her mother isn’t nearly as kind. She’s greedy, selfish and stuck up. Lina can sometimes slip into selfishness, but overall she’s like her father. She and her mother don’t get along, but she still has hope she could change for the better. I know she won’t.

Monsters never change.

I braid my hair into two pigtails, looking up as seeing Sehun in casual clothes. He’s filling up a to go cup of coffee. I could feel my heart falter a bit just looking at him. Sehun looked fairly well rested, standing and waiting for the coffee to stop brewing. Some of his black locks fall into his face. He pulls on it, sighing before pushing it out his face. He glances at me, smiling.

“So what are you going to do,” He asks, mixing the right amount of cream and sugar he preferred.

“Minseok said he couldn’t keep looking in on if Song is my father because he was threatened,” I mutter. Just thinking about it has my stomach in knots. “Told him that he’ll stop Minnie from becoming the Royal Lawyer if he keeps snooping around. So it’s up to me. I want answers… but I also don’t.” I reach over, taking a small sip from his coffee, feeling it sting my tongue.

Sehun scoffs, “Song is such an asshole. If you need help, just call. Unlike my two overachieving brothers, my summer is mostly doing whatever I want… though our dance final is in four days...”

“Well, I’m probably going to have to go to my apartment and have a look through my mom’s things,” I say, walking beside him to the door. I hand him his drink back before I quickly put on my shoes, tying the laces quickly before we exit. “She had a lot of things from my father and from him that she kept. I never looked at it before so, I figured it’s the best place to start.” I shake my head, “I’ll probably be the best chance at an answer…”

He nods, looking at his watch. “Looks like I’m going to be on time for once.” He pulls me to him, wrapping his arm around me, “Just be careful, yeah? I have some time after this meeting and my hair appointment before we have another stupid meeting. If you need anything, I’m just a text or call away.”

I nod, “I’ll remember that.”

He quickly gives me a kiss on the top of my head. He had to bend down so far to reach, “Thank you. Seriously. Without you there, I would have been a wreck…”

I give him another hug, “Don’t mention it. I’m here if you need me too.”

We parted ways, I off in my van and Sehun in Lina’s car, going to return it later when she had to personally send invitations to some gallery showing thing later on. The drive to my apartment was quick. The building old, probably not up to code, honestly. There were mold problems in other people’s apartments and some have had some water damage. I was lucky that mine was one of the very few decent ones. I opened the door, seeing my usually empty place. It felt lonely, being back there. I’ve gotten used to hearing someone else near me. Watching T.V. or on the phone. Sehun wasn’t exactly the quietest housemate, often making a noise like dropping things or have the T.V. up too loud. Going back to just me felt quiet, in an awful way. There was a rather thick layer of dust on everything, making it feel like I was going into a place that’s been abandoned. I sneezed, the dust flying up all around.

I look into my room, seeing my awful and uncomfortable mattress. I don’t miss it at all, that’s for sure. My back feels a hundred times better now that I wasn’t sleeping on what felt like pins poking my back all night long. I could feel my eyes get itchy from the amount of dust I was breathing in, making me groan as I stepped inside. I turn on the cheap alarm clock that was by the bed, turning the radio on and letting the empty feeling place come a bit more alive with the sounds of ‘the latest pop hits’, according to the announcer.

It didn’t take me long find the safe that was my mother’s and pulled it out from the closet. I stuffed it in there when I moved in and never looked at it since. It was heavy and took every ounce of strength I had to pull it so that I could open it. I put in the code and, for the first time since she passed, It opened with a creak. Papers, some old camera tapes, a photo album, some drawings and a few pieces of my mother’s jewelry that she couldn’t bear to pawn. A stack of letters, all already opened, bound with some twine. I started to pull it all out, looking over it. The kid art was funny and awful, making me smile that she kept them. The jewelry was a little bit. Two rings on a chain, her engagement and wedding band. I set it down in a hurry, looking back. There was a bracelet with star shaped charms and glass beads that looked like the starry sky. Lastly a locket, which I was scared of opening. I remember my mother wearing it until the day she passed. I put it in the safe after. Then my attention turned to the rest of it.

My fingers shook as I held the photo album in my hands. Did I really want to do this? If I look in here, I can never go back to my happy, blissful ignorance…

Was the ignorance blissful? I’m being stalked, blackmailed, and even drugged because this person thinks things about me that I don’t even know if it’s true or not. My world has been turned upside down from whatever I’m about to see here. Did I really want to know?

No… but it doesn’t matter what I want. What matters is the truth. Learning it and stopping all this shit from happening.

I open it, seeing a picture of my mother and a younger man. Brown hair and blue eyes, his skin tan, like mine. He wore a suit, standing by my mother who wore white. A wedding picture. The man was young, a bit older than me, same with my mother. They married young, apparently. She had a bouquet full of many types of flowers and some pinned in her hair. Her feet were bare in the grass and her white dress only went to her knees. She looked like the free, wild child I always heard her described when she was younger. She was that way when she was older too, though calmer. He looked more prim and proper. A tux, black and with a tie, his hair back, out of his face and completely clean shaven. He was looking at her, a smile beaming on his face. She was grinning at him too, one of their hands laced together.

Just one look at this picture confirmed it. Standing by my mother was Song Jiyeong a smile on his face that I was surprised he could make.

I flip the page, seeing more pictures of the two of them from their time married before I was born. Vacation in the mountains, days on the beach, the two of them covered in paint from painting a wall in their house. They seemed so happy. Then a picture of her pregnant. Her belly growing and then little me. A picture of King Song holding me in his arms with a smile on his face, one of him with me on his chest, the both of us fast asleep.

I closed the book, not wanting to look at it anymore. I was seething in anger already. He was here this whole time, and he did nothing to help her on her last days.

I pull the twine from the letters. The top ones from years ago. The first one telling her he was leaving. There was about fifty of them he sent. They spoke of how much he missed her, how much he loved her. How he’s seen me in passing and how beautiful I looked. I wipe my eyes and face, the tears falling over and over and over, no matter if I wanted them to or not. I tie the letters back, placing them on the photo album.

‘To my beloved’, they said. ‘The love of my life’, ‘My wonderful wife’... ‘My stunning daughter’... ‘my intelligent daughter’... ‘My wonderful, daring Y/N’.

I looked up at the clock and see that I’ve spent hours at this. The sun setting now as I turn off the radio, getting the letters, album, and jewelry. I wipe at my eyes, my breath labored as I try to hold my sobs of pure fury.

When I’m upset, I just go where my feet take me. I don’t care where I go, I just go. Sometimes I end up at my mother’s grave if it’s bad like I did the other day. often I find myself at a sweets shop. Not this time.

My anger was burning, making me feel sick to my stomach. I, through my anger and my fairly reckless driving, got to the palace. I can’t stop myself, even if I tried. I remember asking the butler if I could see the princes. He took me since I was their friend. He told me they were meeting with the king and I could wait to see them. I nod, just wanting to see people who could help me, people who would understand and care about me.

Then, the butler made the mistake of telling me we’re passing the room where they are meeting. With the king. With him.

My hand met the doorknob, security yelling at me to stop. I threw the door open, my eyes burning with tears, a frown on my face.

Everyone in the room turned. Junmyeon was shocked, his mouth hanging open. Yixing looked between me and everyone else. Sehun stood up, looking at me and then past me, speaking. I couldn’t hear him as my eyes met the man who was sitting at a desk, his hands folded together, his mouth hidden behind them. When he did finally look at me, his expression was one of shock.

I feel something press against my temple, bringing me back into the moment. I glance, seeing one of the security guards with a gun pressed to my head.

“Lower the weapon,” Sehun says, his voice firm, taking a step to me. I glance at him. He was dressed same as before, his hair now brown as he stood quickly. He was glaring at the guard.

“Stop,” A lower voice says. It was cold and hard, daring it to be defied. It was quieter than one expected. Song looked at the guards, “Leave.”

“Sir,” The guard says, “She’s intruding and could be a danger to you! She’s-”

Song glares at him, “Lower your weapon. She is no danger to me. Shut the door on your way out.”

I stared him down as the door behind me closed. Junmyeon took a step to me but stopping after a look from Song. He looked like the picture, but older and angrier. He had a calculating look about him now. He sighed, “Y/N-”

“No,” I say, my voice cracking as I spoke. “You don’t get to talk! You’re going to sit there and you’re going to fucking listen to me!”

Everyone before me was stunned into silence. Junmyeon was standing to the left of the desk, with Yixing closer to Sehun, who bother were seated a few feet away to the right. I walked up, tears freely falling down my face as I glared at the acting King. If he was stunned by my outburst, he hid it well. I threw all of the things I carried with me on the desk before him, covering documents that were probably vastly more important than what I was doing, but I don’t care. I threw the album, making sure it was open to pictures of my mother and him. My hands were shaking as Junmyeon peeked over, his eyes wide. I point my finger jabbing at a picture of him and my mother. “Explain. Now.”

The large grandfather clock in the corner chimed, filling the now silence. The room was vast and grand like all the others, looking like the study one would expect of a king. Books, leather bound, lined the walls. A globe in the corner and the chairs were all fine and looked extremely uncomfortable. King Song, looks at the three princes, before letting out an exhausted sigh. “The three of you, leave,” He commands, his voice calm and steely.

Sehun stood, “I’m staying.” His hands were fists and he glared at the man before him with cold eyes.

Junmyeon lowered his head, patting me softly on the shoulder as he and Yixing started to pull Sehun. He struggled against them, arguing.

King Song glared at him, “Just listen to me for once in your waste of a life, boy.”

“Don’t talk to him like that,” I yell, glaring at the man in front of me. He looked surprised to be confronted about Sehun, before he just rolls his eyes, but remains quiet. I glare at him before turning to Sehun. “Sehun… please… I need to do this alone. Please. I promise I’ll be fine… If I’m not, I’ll tell you. I swear.”

After a few moments of him looking me in the eyes, he nods. He turns, walking out with his brothers with no argument as the doors shut behind them.

For a while, it was the two of us just looking at each other. The more I look at him the more I see similarities. We had the same button nose, though his was a bit bigger. He looks away, opening up a drawer in the desk, pulling out a bottle of bourbon and two glasses. “I knew this day would come eventually,” He says, calmly, “Though I imagined it being happier.”

“Happier,” I ask, practically spitting the word out. My hands gripping the edge of the desk. “Really? Because all I can think of us you fucking off and not giving a damn!”

His looks at me, his blue eyes meeting mine. He looked momentarily hurt. “I care, Y/N. That’s why I left. I know it hurts that I left you-”

“Fuck that,” I growl. “I don’t care that you left me. I don’t even know you, how could I possibly care if you left me? How could it hurt? You were always just a fucking deadbeat father to me who decided Mom and I weren’t good enough for you to stick around. What hurts is what you did to my mother!”

“I explained to Minsu-”

I slam a fist onto the desk, “I said I’m talking! You’re listening!” The violent outburst shocking even myself. For once in my life, I wanted nothing more than to just slap someone across the face. I looked a way for a second, trying to keep that feeling away.

He sighs, and after a pause, pours himself a glass, filling the other as well before taking one in his hand. He looks back at me with a nod.

I shook my head, looking at the window on one side. It had a view of the garden, where I spied Junmyeon, Yixing, and Sehun walking around. They were stood next to a fountain, Sehun reaching down and splashing Junmyeon. I smiled sadly, knowing they were just trying to keep themselves occupied and distracted. I nod, turning back to my father, the smile leaving.

“Did you know that for years she cried herself to sleep. When I was younger it was every day. She felt like she was left behind… like she wasn’t good enough for you and your life. Now, in hindsight, those comments make sense,” My voice was eerily calm. I paced a bit, just trying to distract myself as I knotted my hands together. “She was broken and never really fixed herself. She tried to move on… to find someone who loved her and would remain with her… but she couldn’t because you were the love of her life or whatever. You don’t deserve her love. So I don’t give a fuck that you left me. I never knew you. I never had the time to bond with you… to love you. She did. And you just left her? For power?”

His eyes looked pained as I spoke about her, tears in them. I was momentarily shocked, seeing so much pent up emotion in his eyes. He gives me a look, that he wants to speak, so I nod, taking the other glass.

“This life would have suffocated her,” He says, his voice not hard and commanding that it has been. It was pained, regretful. “Minsu was a free spirit. She was unique, and kind and absolutely herself and no one else's unless she wanted to be.” He took a sip of his drink, running a hand through his hair, “When King Kim died, it was my duty to take up the place or else have this burden fall on a child… I couldn’t let that happen. Junmyeon deserved a childhood. He deserved to be ready for this duty, not have it thrust upon him...”

He finished his glass, setting it down as he looks up at me, “Minsu, your mother, the woman that I love more than anything… she would have been smothered here. The beautiful things that made her different would have had to end. She would have had to pretend to be someone she isn’t. You know as well as I that would have killed her spirit.”

“Instead you left her to rot away as she forgot everything and everyone,” I say, my voice like poison. I take the glass, bringing it up to my lips and drink the whole thing. It burned going down, but I just wanted to feel something besides the anger for a moment.

“There is nothing I could have done to stop her disease, Y/N,” He mutters, shaking his head. “I got a doctor from the best hospital in the country to go and work there at that run down one just for her. Someone I knew would take good care of her. I visited her as much as I could.”

“Bullshit,” I say, practically spitting the words as I grab the bottle of bourbon. I look at the dark liquid, rolling my eyes and take a huge gulp from the bottle. Lina told me that sometimes people drink just to forget their sorrows sometimes. Now feels like a better time than any. I hissed at the burning as I looked back at him. “I saw her every goddamn day.”

“I went when you were at school,” He explains, “The receptionists were told to keep that from you. The security cameras on that floor were coincidentally out while she was there, too.” Tears finally fell from his eyes, “Seeing her like that hurt. I realized how much time I missed with her… with you. She told me so much about you. How proud she was. She wanted me to see you, she said it was her dying wish but…”

“But what,” I ask, glaring as my tears still fell, nonstop since I got here. I take some more of the alcohol, just wanting something to focus on besides him.

He looks at me, “You are just like her, Y/N. I don’t want this life to kill your spirit. You’re kind and so full of sympathy and empathy for people… this place, what I have to do to keep this country running, what you would have had to endure as a princess, it would have broken you. So I stayed away, keeping an eye on you from far away because I didn’t want you to have to suffer like this-”

“Suffer in a palace? A stable roof overhead,” I bitterly ask, walking away, turning my back to him. “Food at the table? Not starving for days on end? Heat during the winter? Not living from paycheck to paycheck, only to be thrown out of a job because one of their friends wanted it?! Being massively in debt from Mom’s time in the hospital?! Tell me how you suffer here?! Safe, warm, and so filthy fucking rich you don’t even have to worry about if you can afford to spend money on food?!” I turn, my eyes red with tears, “You don’t know suffering until you have to do anything you can just to survive!”

He stood, walking around the desk, “I didn’t know! You didn’t apply for government assistance-”

“That corrupt system that doesn’t fucking help anyone who needs it? That system?!” I scream, turning to face him, walking right up and staring at him. He was taller than me by far. “I tried! I was denied! People are out there starving because all the systems that are meant to help are fucking rotten to their very goddamn core and the fact you don’t seem to notice just shows how fucking blind to true suffering you are!”

“You could have come to me,” He says, his voice sad. He looked like an old dog someone just beat the shit out of with how sad he seemed.

I roll my eyes, turning and walking to the window. I take the bottle, taking gulp after massive gulp from it, wanting something else besides my heart to hurt. I lean against the window sill, finally starting to feel a bit dizzy for a moment. “I didn’t even know you were my father until hours ago.”

“But Minseok has been snooping around for months…”

“He told me he thought you were my father,” I mutter, “Thought. He looked into it because he didn’t want to bring it up until he was sure. When you stopped him, he finally told me. I didn’t really know it until I opened the safe mom had today…”

We were silent for a bit. I watch the three princes all now completely soaked sitting in the water of the fountain. Sehun glanced at the window, nodding to me. I wave back, sighing as I let the now empty bottle slip from my grasp, hitting the floor with a thud. He chuckles, “Well, there goes my favorite bourbon…”

“It was fucking disgusting,” I mutter.

He chuckled again, his voice now warm for the first time since I stepped into the room. “Your mother said the same thing the first time she tried it too.”

“Do you regret it? Leaving us?”

Without a moment's hesitation, he speaks. “Everyday of my life. I could have been there more for my wife. We always talked about having two kids. She wanted a boy too… I could have been there and helped her raise you…” He walked over, closing the space between us. He was so much taller than I was. “I have dreams of me being there for you all the time. Helping you learn how to ride a bike, failing to braid your hair the way you wanted it,” He says with a sad smile, reaching up and lightly touching my pigtails. “Chasing off boyfriends and helping you with homework. Though it seems like you never needed help with that.… The only time I broke and went to see you was your high school graduation. I was so proud, but I also felt empty.”

I shook my head, wiping my tears, “Why couldn’t you have just… showed up? Tried? I didn’t have to be a princess or whatever… I spent years wondering if you ever even cared about me at all.”

“I left you because I cared,” He says, letting the walls down a bit. He wasn’t my kind standing before me. He was a heartbroken father. “You’re wonderful and wholly yourself. You deserved to be able to flourish and fly without having to worry about people trying to deceive you and hurt you. With royalty comes responsibility. You have to be able to give up yourself and what you love for an image. I never wanted that for you and your mother. So I left…”

“She never wanted that for you, either,” I say, my tears starting to turn to sobs. “She just wanted you.”

“I’m sorry,” He says, “I’m so, so sorry.”

I nod, wiping my eyes and nose. “I’m sorry for barging in…”

He let out a small laugh, “Well, you certainly helped keep the guards on their toes.” He places his hands on my shoulders, “I never meant to make you feel like I didn’t want you. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Is there anything I can do you make it better?”

I was going to say no, but I stop and think. I remember about how awful he’s been treating my friends. This could be the only chance I have to help them. So instead, I nod, looking him in the eyes, “Stop being such an asshole to Sehun. He’s had a very hard life. Harder than you know, so cut him some slack. His own father hated him… I’m a crying mess over this… imagine how I’d be if you hated me?”

Jiyeong lets out a long sigh, “I know. I’ve been taking my anger out on him when I should have been more reasonable and treated him better. I suppose listening to King Kim all those years has infected my mind too.”

“Well stop that. And stop trying to force him into marriage, too. Let him find love. Oh, and don’t stop Minnie from being the Royal Lawyer, please,” I say, the world feeling a bit out of focus as my words were starting to slur together. “He wants to change those rotten systems for the better… he wanted to help me go after someone who… who really hurt me. He’s a good man, let him be one for everyone.”

“I swear,” He says, nodding. “It’s the least I can do to help you after all these years…”

“Also,” I mutter, “If you could just… you know… tell Mrs. Hana not to fire me when she finds out I barged in here, that would be pretty fucking swell too. I kind of need this job.”

The laugh that came from him made me smile without realizing it. Something about it seemed familiar somehow. It was light and just full of pure joy. “Will do… I’ll explain to her. She’s very understanding and honestly, one of the most trusted people here.”

I sigh, “I’m… I’m going to go find them now.”

I take a few steps, going slow because the world was spinning a bit. I turn, looking back, “Um… would it be alright if we just… gotten to know each other? After a few days, though. I kind of need time to process all this.”

“I’d love to,” He says, taking a few steps towards his desk. “You mind if I look through these?”

“Uh, sure…” I say, leaving the room, unable to handle the uncomfortable air. I wander down the hall for a few minutes, struggling to walk straight. I smile as I finally find the exit to the garden. I open it, almost running into Sehun.

“Here you are,” He says, putting his phone in his pocket before pulling me to him. The world was swimming as we went down their stairs. He helps me over to the grass where I bend over, feeling the contents of my stomach come up and out.

“It’s ok,” Sehun says, holding my pigtails out the way. He rubbed my back, comforting me as I kept puking, crying at the same time. I probably looked like an awful mess.

Yixing crouched down, not even bothered that I was vomiting profusely. I suppose when you’re trying to be a doctor, puke isn’t the worst thing you’ve seen. He looked at Junmyeon, “Water, ibuprofen and some super greasy junk food. Time to teach Y/N how to be drunk and be a responsible one at that.”

“Well, Song did say she drank a little under a third of the bottle,” Sehun mutters, continuing to rub my back as I continued to puke.

After I was finished vomiting, the three princes help me collect my dizzy self. I felt awful like the world was suddenly in slow motion. Before we leave the garden, I glance over to the window, seeing Song Jiyeong, the often cold and collected Acting King, holding a picture in his hands, his shoulders shaking and a hand wiping at his face.

#exo scenarios #exo imagine #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic

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waveridden · 7 years ago

Text

FIC: Venus (2/5)

“What’s the final countdown?” Tryst snorts. “Geez, kid, it’s like it’s your first national tour or something.” (A Campaign rock band AU. Tryst/Leenik/Aava, with background Zero/Blue.)

Read on Ao3 || Chapter 1

MONDAY

Las Vegas, NV

From: tubaik 911 emergency

From: tubaik ren wake the fuck up

From: tubaik it’s past noon wake UP

From: tubaik REN

From: tubaik ZERO CANCELED, REN

From: sneak So don’t freak out but our headliner for tonight just canceled on us

From: sneak

And we’re up shit creek without a paddle

From: sneak Good morning, we’re fucked

From: zeroni Don’t kill me.

“Zee.” Rendezvous tries to stifle a yawn and probably, definitely fails. “The fuck’s going on?”

“You don’t need to pretend you’ve been awake all day,” Zero says. He sounds on edge, not as calm or cool as she’s used to, and if she’d been awake for longer than three minutes she might be worried about that. “I get it, bartender hours, you probably went to bed at five in the morning.”

“Six, actually,” she admits, and rolls over in bed. “You mind explaining why I woke up to the boys freaking out about you canceling?”

“That would be because I canceled.”

“You canceled your big DJ gig headlining in a Vegas bar?”

“I’ve headlined in a dozen Vegas bars before. I’ve headlined in your Vegas bar before, and not just on a Monday night, either.”

“But not tonight?”

“Not tonight.”

Rendezvous raises her eyebrows. Zero doesn’t cancel gigs lightly, especially not when those gigs are for friends. “Everything okay, big guy?”

Zero makes a frustrated noise. “Personal emergency.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Not about me.”

Rendezvous hums. That narrows down the options. “What did Blue do?”

Zero sighs heavily. If Rendezvous listens - and she does, now that she can guess what to listen for - there are hospital noises in the background, quiet beeps and hushed voices. “He tripped down the stairs and dislocated his hip.”

“From tripping down the stairs?”

“I don’t know how he does these things,” Zero says, palpably frustrated. “He dislocated his shoulder while he was conducting an orchestra a few months ago, so this isn’t even out of the ordinary.”

“He gonna be okay?”

“Only if I don’t throttle him. But he’s gonna be more insufferable than normal if I leave while he’s injured.”

“I’m sorry, Zee,” Rendezvous says, and she’s surprised by how much she means it. Zero’s boyfriend isn’t her favorite person - she’s pretty sure he’s not anyone’s favorite person, other than Zero’s - but he’s still a decent guy. He knows a thing or two about music, at least, and that makes him okay in her book. “Don’t worry about missing the gig or anything.”

“I promise you, that was one of the last things I was worrying about.”

“And now it’s off the list altogether.”

“At least you guys were doing that whole mystery guest thing,” Zero offers, although his heart’s certainly not in it. “You know, trying to hype that up. Maybe you can nab a different mystery guest. No one will know.”

Rendezvous snorts. “Yeah, because there’s gonna be someone dumb enough to agree to headline for us on seven hours notice, right?”

“You’re in Las Vegas, you’re gonna tell me there aren’t enough musicians to get a headliner?”

“Maybe,” she allows. “I’ll let you go now, no need to make small talk. Make sure you remember to eat and all that shit, okay?”

“I have a friend who dragged me out to lunch earlier. Hospital cafeteria lunch, but still lunch.”

“Good. Take care.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Rendezvous hangs up and stares at her phone, and she finally lets the dread hit her. She can’t begrudge Zero wanting to stay at home with his dumbass injured boyfriend, but they’ve been hyping up his surprise appearance for weeks. They were supposed to announce him formally in a couple of hours, get people scrambling to come see the DJ Zero live and in person. It was going to be huge. And now they have nothing.

Sneak and Tubaik’s texts are still there, waiting for an answer, and she guesses she should fucking figure something out. She’s the manager of this bar, goddammit, she can’t let things end like this.

“Goddamn it,” she says aloud to her empty apartment. “Where am I going to find a big name musician?”

She could call someone, maybe. Heatseekers has had their share of big names perform there, and maybe one of them would do it if she paid out her ass for how last-minute it is, but that would defeat the point of making money. She could try and find some contractual way to make Zero do it, but that’s not good business, and she’s not enough of an asshole for that. She could find some up-and-coming starry-eyed kid to take advantage of and promote like they’re already famous. She could walk back the social media campaign and eat crow. She can bitch about this whole thing tomorrow at lunch with Tryst, and maybe with his hot drummer friend if there’s time.

Holy shit. Tryst and his band.

Rendezvous dials his number before she can second-guess it. This is her best shot, probably, if only because Tryst is a sucker for family. She’s banking on that.

He picks up almost immediately. “Are you dying?”

“I call you when I’m not dying too.”

“Uh, okay, you don’t get to lie to me right now.”

She has to give it to him: that was definitely a lie. She doesn’t call him nearly as often as she should. “Fine. Trystan.”

“Rendezvous.”

“How many favor points do you owe me?”

Tryst swears quietly. “Uh, like, six? Is this going by the old favor point system?”

“What’s the new one?”

“The one we switched to at the memorial.”

Rendezvous rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to be bitchy about me skipping Dad’s memorial.”

“You know, I don’t need to be, but I think I’m going to anyways.”

“So you owe me six points.”

“I do.”

“Do you wanna get rid of all of those, right now?”

Tryst goes quiet. Mostly, the Valentine favor point system is used for things like buying each other lunch, or that time Rendezvous picked Fling up when the cops crashed a party she was at. One or two points per favor, maybe three in big cases. Six points is unprecedented. At last, Tryst says, “Do I need a lawyer for this conversation?”

“My big music act at the bar canceled tonight. I need someone to fill in.”

“God, I actually might need a lawyer,” he mutters. “You would need to pay us.”

“I’ll pay you what I was going to pay Zero.”

“I need to talk to the rest of the band.”

“All six favor points, Tryst.” Rendezvous puts her phone closer to her mouth. “All six . Have we ever had a six-point favor before?”

“I don’t think any of us have ever owed someone six favor points before,” Tryst says, which is completely correct. He’s just really bad about paying Rendezvous back for her favors.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“We’d be making history, huh?”

“I think this is a good six-point favor. You can clean the slate, right now.”

“This system is completely outdated,” he mutters, which is as good as a yes.

Rendezvous grins. “I’ll even pay for lunch tomorrow.”

“Doesn’t that mean I’ll owe you another favor point?”

“No, that’s just a kind gesture from your big sister.”

Tryst snorts. “Yeah, okay, sure. I gotta go, Vous-Vous, I’m driving for the next four hours. I’ll get Bacta to text you with whatever we decide.”

“Don’t crash,” Rendezvous says.

“Jesus, I wasn’t worried about it till now,” Tryst mutters, and hangs up.

Rendezvous stares up at the ceiling for a little while longer. There’s a shot here. Tryst is a sucker, he’ll make this happen. He has to make this happen.

From: hot drummer Legally we can’t do a full-on concert. Contract stipulations about tours.

To: hot drummer i sense a “but”

From: hot drummer But if Tryst and Lyn did an acoustic set of covers…

To: hot drummer we’re not a super acoustic place, drummer boy

From: hot drummer It’s the best we can do.

From: hot drummer There’ll be a lot of fans who couldn’t get tickets who would jump at the chance for an exclusive concert experience.

To: hot drummer you have a high opinion of your own importance

From: hot drummer You’re the one who asked us to play at your bar.

To: hot drummer good point

To: hot drummer can you be ready to play by 8?

From: hot drummer Absolutely.

From: hot drummer Tryst wants to know if you have two pianos or if we need to bring any.

To: hot drummer we currently have no pianos

From: hot drummer He asked me to tell you to fuck off with that garbage.

To: hot drummer that sounds like a him problem

To: hot drummer thanks for saving my ass on this

To: hot drummer feel free to do whatever promotional shit you want

From: hot drummer Oh, we were going to do that whether or not you said we could, don’t worry.

HEATSEEKERS BAR @LVheatseekers

You’ve asked, we’re answering. Our mystery guest: @themynockband. Tonight. 8:00.

HEATSEEKERS BAR @LVheatseekers Replying to @LVheatseekers @themynockband

Tryst Valentine and @lluroon will be playing an exclusive acoustic set. $10 cover to get in, standing room only. See you there.

The Mynock @themynockband

Las Vegas! Before we see you tomorrow, you can see us tonight - check out @LVheatseekers for more info.

The Mynock @themynockband Replying to @themynockband @LVheatseekers

(One of us may have a sister there. Maybe. -B)

From: tubaik how

From: tubaik the //fuck//

From: tubaik did you get the mynock to play at heatseekers

From: tubaik with literally seven hours notice

From: tubaik they sold out at mandalay and they’re going to be playing at our bar

To: tubaik how dare you question me

From: tubaik I know that’s an intimidation tactic and it shouldn’t work but that’s actually pretty scary

To: tubaik fucking right it is

In what absolutely has to be an embarrassment tactic, Tryst wrangles Rendezvous into a hug the second he sees her. The kind of hug that nearly sends them both toppling to the floor. At least one of his legs is wrapped around her.

“I’m going to kill you,” Rendezvous says into his shoulder.

“That’s not a way to repay a six-point favor,” Tryst says cheerfully.

“What is a six-point favor?” demands hot drummer Bacta, who is thankfully just as hot as she remembered.

“Valentine secret,” Tryst and Rendezvous say at the same time. She glares at him. He seems completely unbothered and lets her go, at goddamn last. “I’m assuming we’re playing in that conveniently curtained-off section over there.”

“Nothing gets past you, Trystan,” Rendezvous says dryly. “We have our sound system set up as good as we could get it, but none of us are experts-”

“Obviously,” sniffs the one-handed guitarist. “I’m going to go fix that.”

“Please do,” Rendezvous says, and he marches off. “Is he okay?”

“Leenik misses his son,” Tryst says, so deadpan that Rendezvous can’t even tell if he’s kidding.

She frowns. “I thought you took the kid on tour with you.”

“No, that’s my son,” Bacta sighs. God, hot drummer and hot dad, how the fuck did Tryst meet this guy? “He won’t be here tonight, so you don’t have to worry about a kid in your bar.”

Tryst leans in conspiratorially and lowers his voice to a stage whisper. “Our opening act is babysitting him, but Bacta doesn’t know that they’re going to a strip club museum.”

“The kids are not going to a strip club museum,” the new lead singer says exasperatedly. “Honestly, how they have not gotten tired of that joke is beyond me.”

“They’re tired of every joke I make,” Tryst says cheerfully. “Now, Vous-Vous, I know what you’re thinking, and don’t worry, Lyn and I both brought keyboards and guitars.”

“Don’t call me Vous-Vous,” Rendezvous says automatically. “And how long are you planning to play for?”

“Dunno, you didn’t tell us, so we planned three hours.” Tryst grins. “Plus a meet-and-greet afterwards, so, you know--”

“Forty-five minutes,” Lyn says.

Rendezvous lifts an eyebrow at her. “You sound like you’re used to dealing with this asshole.”

“I live with him.” Lyn shoots Tryst a pained look; he grins back at her. “He is… one of a kind.”

“She loves me.” Tryst adjusts the guitar he has slung over his shoulder. “Do we get free drinks?”

“You get free drinks,” Rendezvous sighs. Sneak and Tubaik had insisted. Apparently this band is a big goddamn deal, or something. “But only after your set.”

“Then we’d better get set up so we can start drinking,” Tryst says cheerfully. “C’mon, Lyn.”

Lyn glances at Rendezvous tentatively. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, you seem okay,” Rendezvous agrees. “Drummer boy, you playing tonight?”

“Drums don’t exactly fit in with acoustic vibes, so no. I’m just here for heavy lifting.”

“And free drinking,” Lyn murmurs.

Bacta laughs, so genuinely bright that Rendezvous is nearly taken aback. “The free drinking isn’t half bad either.”

“Come find me once you’re set up, I’ll mix you up something good,” Rendezvous promises. Bacta’s eyes flick to her, looking bemused, and she shrugs. “Hey, you’re all covering my ass here, the least I can do is give you the good stuff.”

“And also pay us,” Tryst says, and starts towards their makeshift stage. Lyn follows him.

Bacta looks at Rendezvous one more time, opens his mouth, closes it, and says abruptly, “I have a kid now.”

“Yeah, the other singer’s kid,” Rendezvous says, because even if she doesn’t keep up with Tryst’s life, she would’ve had to be under a rock to miss that whole shitstorm. “What about him?”

“I’m going home to check on him tonight,” Bacta says stiffly. He sounds embarrassed, which is positively adorable.

Rendezvous smirks despite herself. “So only quickies in the stockroom, no going home together?”

He looks even more pained. God, hot drummer is fun to mess with. “None of those, either.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

“You Valentines,” he starts, and then shakes his head and goes towards the stage. Rendezvous watches his ass as he walks away, because life’s too short to deny herself simple pleasures.

“Hey, Ren,” Sneak says, when it’s 7:45 and the bar is almost too packed for anyone to move. “How did you do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, did you just fucking call The Mynock and ask them to come here?”

“That’s exactly what I did. My brother’s the band’s bassist.” She cranes her neck. “He’s up there somewhere. Not that you can see him.”

“Your brother is the bassist for an internationally famous rock band.”

“Bass and keyboards. And my sister plays keyboard in another.”

Sneak sighs. “Sometimes, I think I have you figured out, and then you go and say things like ‘I have a brother,’ and I realize I don’t know you, and then those things are ‘he’s the bassist for a famous band,’ and I realize that you’re not even a real fucking person.”

“But I’m still your boss,” Rendezvous says, a little pleased despite herself. “And you’ve gotta serve these nice folks some drinks.”

“You’ve gotta serve them drinks, too.”

Rendezvous shrugs. “I can live with that.”

A couple of songs into the set, Bacta plops down at a bar stool and says, with a touch of desperation, “Whiskey?”

Rendezvous pours him a glass of middle-shelf whiskey and leans onto the bar. “You look a little stressed.”

“There are a lot of people here.”

“You guys sell out stadiums regularly.”

“I’m not normally in the crowd for the stadiums.” He takes a long drink of whiskey and visibly relaxes. “How’ve you been, Ren?”

She shrugs. “Same business as ever, you know. Not a lot of news.”

“We haven’t talked in nearly four years.”

“How am I supposed to remember everything from the last four years?”

Bacta nods, looking altogether too thoughtful. “Any big changes?”

“Nothing as big as you.” She raises her eyebrows. “Got a kid, huh?”

“Got a kid,” Bacta echoes, and sips at his whiskey. “Good kid, too.”

“Are there really any good kids?”

“There’s one, and I’ve got him.”

Rendezvous smirks. “Think you’re a little biased there, bud.”

Bacta rolls his eyes. “Whatever. That kid’s going to turn out great, no thanks to his Uncle Tryst.”

“I’m amazed that you’re letting him help raise a kid at all.”

“He’s not so bad sometimes.” He pauses, considering that, and immediately downs the rest of his whiskey. “Other times-”

“-he’s Tryst,” Rendezvous finishes, and Bacta smiles at her wryly. She thinks, a little absently, that if she were the kind of person for settling down, or for keeping a long-distance friendship, he’d be one of the first on her list. Damn shame she’s not. “I know the single dad thing must be hard, but if you’re relying on him…”

“Him and Leenik, whose other son is a pit bull.” Bacta sighs.

Rendezvous reaches for the whiskey to refill his glass. “Wasn’t there a godmother or something? I thought Tryst said he was dating-”

Bacta glares at the glass so hard Rendezvous is tempted to move away. “Aava’s not in the picture.”

“What about your new lead singer?”

“What about her?”

She sets the bottle on the counter and glances up at the stage as the crowd starts cheering. She waits for it to subside as they start another song and then shrugs. “I dunno, she seems like maybe the most stable one here, after you.”

“She is.” Bacta drinks his whiskey and makes a face. “She’s worried about replacing Grizelle in Tamlin’s life, which I think makes her the best choice for it. It’s all sort of twisted, but she’s just as happy being an uncle.”

“Don’t you mean aunt?”

“Aava’s the only one he calls an aunt.”

“Aava who’s not in the picture?”

“I guess it’s his way of separating the bad relatives from the good ones.” Bacta rolls his eyes. “We’re working on it.”

“At least the kid has a system,” Rendezvous points out.

Bacta smiles, with all the fondness in the world. Rendezvous has never done fondness, or anything even in the realm of parental emotion. And Bacta wasn’t fond, when she first met him. He was too busy figuring out how to love people to deal with something as delicate as fondness. She’d been more than happy to help him ignore his problems back then, but he’s not that person now. Maybe that’s for the best.

“He’s smart,” Bacta says, a little wistfully. “Maybe smarter than the rest of us.”

“Isn’t that every parent’s goal? To have their kids be better than them?”

“I’m not quite sure I’m a parent.”

Rendezvous rolls his eyes. “You don’t get to call him your kid and then say you’re not his parent.”

Bacta blinks at her. “I don’t think I’m drunk enough to talk about that.”

Rendezvous tops him off. Bacta tilts his glass towards her. “To not talking about anything too deep.”

“To things working out where you don’t expect them,” she answers, tipping the bottle towards him. He drinks, and she doesn’t, and Lyn’s voice soars above them both, through the murmur of the crowd.

TUESDAY

MKBX Las Vegas - Interview with The Mynock

Lavali: What’s up, everybody, this is Blur 91.3 Las Vegas, I’m your host Lavali Lithros and today I’m here with the members of The Mynock! If you listen to this station, you’ve heard them, because we play their music all the time. Guys, welcome to the studio, how about you introduce yourself for the folks at home?

Bacta: Well, I’m Bacta, and I play the drums.

Tryst: I’m Tryst, and I’m the beauty to Lyn’s brains.

Lyntel: You mean you play bass.

Tryst: And it’s beautiful.

Lyn: I’m Lyntel Luroon, and I play the keyboards with Tryst, and I sing.

Leenik: Radio is a dying medium, you know. Uh, Leenik Geelo, I play guitar.

Lavali: So you guys are in Las Vegas as part of your national tour, but you had a surprise show last night! What was the deal there?

Tryst: Oh, that’s easy, my sister is the manager at the bar we played. It was a favor to her.

Leenik: I’m pretty sure that’s nepotism.

Tryst: It’s absolutely nepotism.

Lavali: This is a different sister than the one in the Kaiburr Crystals, I’m assuming.

Tryst: Yeah, they’re very different. Vous - that’s Rendezvous, the one who works at the bar - is way more badass than Christmas.

Lyn: Don’t you have a third sister?

Tryst: Oh, don’t worry about her.

Lavali: Now, Christmas - that’s Christmas Valentine of the Kaiburr Crystals, she’s the one who introduced you two, right?

Lyn: That’s right, yes. I used to play keyboard with the Crystals, and after their first international tour I left the band. Christmas was my replacement, and Tryst and I met at a Crystals event.

Tryst: And now Lyn lives with me.

Lyn: [sighs] And now… I have made some mistakes that mean that I live with Tryst.

Tryst: Hey, now. I’m an amazing roommate.

Lyn: You’re better than living alone.

Tryst: Thank you.

Bacta: Lyn is the only one of us who has ever lived permanently with Tryst, and she says it’s not that bad, but-

Tryst: Because it’s not!

Leenik: Lyn, if he’s making you say these things, blink twice.

Tryst: That doesn’t work, I can see her blink.

Lavali: Listeners at home, Lyn is not blinking.

Leenik: Well, that’s just because Tryst can see her blink.

Tryst: Leenik, what is it that makes you think I would be bad to live with? You can move in with-

Lyn: No-

Tryst: -us, you and Tony-

Lyn: We don’t have room for a dog-

Leenik: How dare you-

Tryst: It’ll be perfectly nice! I’m a good roommate!

Leenik: Tony is not just a dog!

Lyn: But he is, at his core, a dog!

Leenik: That’s not the point!

Bacta: We need to change the subject, guys, this is not a fight for the radio.

Leenik: Actually, I want this as public as possible.

Tryst: Yeah, me too, I want the record to show that I’m great to live with.

Bacta: [sighs] Lyn, if you want to remove yourself-

Tryst: Are you trying to get Lyn to move out?

Bacta: I’m trying to save her from this argument, Tryst, I’m sure you’re an excellent roommate.

Tryst: Thank you!

Lyn: Anyways! Bacta has the best roommate out of all of us.

Leenik: What about Tony?

Tryst: What about me?

Lyn: I’m talking about Tamlin.

Tryst: ...okay, maybe.

Lavali: [laughing] The famous Tamlin! What’s he like in person?

Bacta: He’s the smartest kid I’ve ever met.

Tryst: Have you met a lot of kids?

Bacta: I don’t need to, I already know that ours is the best.

Lavali: Not to get too serious here-

Tryst: Oh, god, please get serious, someone here has to.

Lavali: Do you guys all consider yourselves Tamlin’s parents?

[several seconds of silence]

Tryst: You know, I might take it back. Too serious.

Lyn: I certainly don’t. I’m the only one who didn’t know Grizelle personally - I was a fan of The Mynock back in the day-

Tryst: Aw, you were?

Lyn: Well, yes? It was sort of hard not to be.

Tryst: Did you come see us tour?

Lyn: I didn’t come see you tour.

Tryst: Damn it. That would’ve been too good of a story.

Lyn: But back to what I was saying, I didn’t know Grizelle, and I didn’t know any of you until long after the accident. I’m certainly not Tamlin’s parent.

Leenik: I mean, I already have a son. And that's Tony. Although I guess Tamlin counts too.

Tryst: I am amazed that Bacta lets me even have uncle status.

Bacta: The thing is - you know, obviously, it was hard on all of us when Grizelle died, it was a horrible accident-

Leenik: [coughing loudly]

Bacta: Harder on some of us than others.

Leenik: Hey, Lyn, you know what I just realized?

Lyn: What?

Leenik: You never knew me when I had both hands.

Lyn: That’s… I guess that’s true, isn’t it?

Leenik: You never got to meet my left hand.

Lavali: Just in case there are any listeners right now who don’t remember the accident-

Tryst: Oh, god, are there people out there who were too young to remember that?

Lyn: It’s been, what, three years?

Leenik: Almost four, but, you know, who’s counting?

Bacta: You know, a lot of people have been asking about this, just because Grizelle was with us on our last tour.

Lavali: That would be Grizelle Jorun, the lead singer on your first album.

Bacta: Yeah, she was our original lead singer. She was a founding member, and then she and Leenik were in a car accident just after our first tour wrapped up. And we lost Grizelle.

Leenik: And I lost my hand.

Tryst: And then you learned to play guitar right-handed, which is maybe the coolest thing ever. We’re like the Beatles now.

Lyn: What- are you a Beatles fan?

Tryst: Uh, aren’t you?

Leenik: Did one of the Beatles lose a hand?

Bacta: Herding cats. It’s like herding cats.

Leenik: Bacta, did one of the Beatles lose a hand?

Bacta: I think we both know the answer to that is no.

Leenik: Okay, some of us aren’t Beatles fans, maybe some of us weren’t sure.

Tryst: Do you- Leenik, do we need to have a Beatles night?

Leenik: What is that? I’m afraid of bugs, you know that.

Tryst: You’re absolutely not afraid of bugs, and you know what I’m talking about, don’t even play with me. We’re live on the radio.

Leenik: I’m sure all ten of the listeners having a radio listening party appreciate that you acknowledge them. No offense.

Lyn: Leenik-

Leenik: We don’t even listen to the radio, and we’re on a perpetual road trip.

Tryst: Well, yeah, you don’t listen to the radio on road trips, you listen to albums. Like something by the Beatles.

Bacta: Do we need to buy Beatles albums for the next leg of the trip?

Leenik: Am I allowed to buy an Enya album?

Tryst: Leenik, no making up bands.

Lyn: I already have Enya albums on the bus.

Leenik: [gasps] You do?

Lyn: Of course I do.

Leenik: Lyn, we need to play them. We need to play them all the way to San Diego.

Tryst: Veto.

Bacta: Ooh, bad use of a veto.

Leenik: Yeah, because now we can play them all the way except for the last ten minutes.

Tryst: Oh, f***, you can, can’t you?

Leenik: You just used your weekly veto, so that’s a yes.

Lavali: [laughing] Do you guys have veto rules?

Tryst: Of course we have rules, we’re not animals.

Bacta: We get one a week, no rollover because that would be too much power-

Leenik: And because Tryst tried that once.

Tryst: And it worked! Because we didn’t have the rule yet.

Bacta: Tryst is the reason we have… a lot of rules.

Lyn: It’s very hard learning all of your rules, you know that?

Leenik: What?

Bacta: Are you having trouble with our rules?

Lyn: Not anymore, no, but at the time-

Tryst: What part of “one a week” do you not understand?

Lyn: You have some kind of value judgment system for the vetoes that takes a while to learn. Sometimes you all just arbitrarily say that a use of a veto is bad, it’s very frustrating.

Leenik: It’s not arbitrary, we only say it for the bad ones.

Lyn: But what makes a veto bad?

Tryst: When you use it badly. God, Lyn, keep up.

Lyn: You see? You see what I have to deal with? I live with him-

Tryst: And it’s a delight!

Lyn: Only when you are not insulting me for not understanding your completely ridiculous rules!

Leenik: Hypothetically, can I veto Lyn complaining about our veto rules?

Lyn: That would be a waste of a veto, because this is the only time this has come up in the last month so it’s not worth it, and now you have me doing it too! Look at me!

Bacta: We’re all proud of you, Lyn.

Tryst: Yeah, you made a good counterpoint, even if you sort of undercut it there at the end.

Lyn: Well, excuse me for not using your formalized veto procedures correctly.

Tryst: You are excused. Thank you for asking for pardon.

Lyn: Is that another procedure?

Bacta: Have we not explained pardons?

Leenik: Hey, guys, remember how we’re on the radio?

Lavali: I remember.

Leenik: Folks at home, I know the dozen of you in your listening party must be very excited-

Tryst: Wasn’t it ten earlier?

Leenik: A couple of people showed up late. Anyways, I know you guys might be tempted to write down our veto rules. Don’t do that. These rules are verbal only.

Lyn: That’s the only rule we have written down, is that we’re not allowed to write rules down.

Lavali: Isn’t that a little contradictory?

Bacta: No, Lyn wrote it, so it made sense.

Lyn: I believe the list of written rules is “all rules beyond this one will be verbal only.”

Tryst: Lyn likes to act like she isn’t the best thing to happen to our rules system.

Leenik: Guys, I think I changed my mind, radio is kind of awesome.

Bacta: That’s good! I’m glad you’re having fun.

Leenik: Are we allowed to hit any of the buttons?

Lavali: You can hit one in about ten seconds, if you let me do an outro.

Leenik: Oh, of course, please.

Lavali: We’re going to take a quick commercial break, and when we come back I’ll chat with The Mynock about their process for putting together this tour and their second album.

Tryst: See, you say that, but the odds of that happening are-

Lavali: So make sure you tune in! Till then, we’re gonna play you out with some Sugar Death Ray. Leenik, that one-

[“Fly” by Sugar Death Ray starts playing]

Leenik: Nailed it.

Lavali: Don’t go anywhere, we’ll be right back.

Leenik: No, but I’m actually curious about your listenership-

[the interview audio cuts out]

“You’re late,” Tryst says, because he’s an asshole.

“I went to bed at six,” Rendezvous says, and drops into a chair. “The fact that I hauled my ass out of bed at noon for you-”

“Reflects poorly on your ability to say no,” Tryst says dryly, but quails when she looks at him. “Listen, I ordered what you texted me, food should be here any minute.”

“Good.”

“Should I be worried that you’re trying to make this lunch go as fast as possible?”

“It’s not you, it’s the fact that I’m tired as hell.”

Tryst shrugs and leans back, tilting his chair onto the back two legs. The restaurant isn’t exceptionally busy, and it’s Vegas, so nobody looks twice at the rock star waiting for his lunch. “Maybe you should work better hours.”

“I set my own hours.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean they’re good. ”

Rendezvous rolls her eyes. “How many cities have you been in this week, asshole?”

“I’m teaching my nephew the meaning of Americana,” Tryst says, affronted.

And it’s maybe a low blow, but Rendezvous says anyways, “Yeah, then how was Phoenix?”

He cringes a little, like she expected. Fucking baby. “We’re steering clear of Phoenix and also the entire state of Utah until he’s a little older.”

“The whole state?”

“Grizelle’s family is… a little intense.”

“It’s been four years.”

“She left for a reason.” Tryst slams all four legs of his chair down, looking uncomfortable. “I dunno, it’s - Tamlin’s still too young to understand why he has four uncles, an aunt that hates one uncle while dating another, a pit bull for a cousin, and no grandparents to speak of.”

“You haven’t introduced him to me,” Rendezvous says, as though she actually gives a fuck. She knows the kid is her nephew-by-proxy, or something, but she has no interest in meeting him. Just in watching her brother squirm.

“He needs permanence in his life.” Tryst fixes her with a surprisingly genuine glare. “And people who will be there.”

“Is this about the memorial?”

“This is about me wanting Tamlin to have a good family.”

Rendezvous nods slowly. “So it’s about the memorial.”

“I know I wasn’t at the funeral either,” Tryst says, which definitely cut the legs out from underneath Rendezvous’s main counterargument. “But I wasn’t there because one of my best friends had died, and so nobody told me that my dad did too. You just didn’t feel like going.”

“Dad wasn’t great, as a person.”

“You’re not great, and I’d still go to your funeral.”

She snorts. “That’s real sweet, Trystan. You’re setting a great example.”

“ Rendezvous, ” he says, just this side of desperate. Like this actually matters. “Can we just- actually talk about this? Serious conversation, until the food gets here?”

“When did you order?”

“About ten minutes ago. I’m just asking for five minutes.”

Rendezvous takes a deep breath. “Alright. Listen, neither of us went to our dad’s funeral, and that’s fine.”

“Objectively, it’s kind of not.”

“Subjectively, we don’t owe a dead guy any of our time, not when he wasn’t dad of the year or anything. And especially not a memorial get-together two years later.”

Tryst rolls his eyes. “You’re missing the point of that whole thing.”

“What, the point where it was a family get-together more than it was a legit memorial? Where it wasn’t about him, it was about us?”

He blinks. “Yeah, that point.”

“I got the point, Tryst,” she says patiently. “I just don’t care. I don’t owe him, or anyone in the family, any of my time that I don’t want to give.”

“But they’re our family.”

“Weren’t you the one who was just saying you’re not introducing your nephew to his blood relatives?”

He grits his teeth. “That’s different. Grizelle cut ties with them. She didn’t want Tamlin to go anywhere near them.”

“They’re still his family, technically.”

“It’s for his own well-being.”

“And this is for mine.” Rendezvous shrugs. “Listen, I like our family as people, sure, but you’re the only one who’s made any effort to talk to me since I moved away from Phoenix. I don’t need to prioritize people who don’t prioritize me.”

“Maybe they feel the same about you,” Tryst says, but he looks sad in a way that has to mean he gets it. “Vous, listen, you’re my sister. You’re always gonna be my sister, whether you like it or not. And I want you to meet my band. They’re my new family.”

“You know I banged your drummer, right?”

“Again?”

“No, the last time you were touring. But keep going.”

Tryst rolls his eyes. “What I’m saying is, I want you to be a part of this life. My life. But it doesn’t seem like you want to.”

There are a thousand answers to that, and Rendezvous knows most of them sound cold. Not from a distance. Not if it means putting myself second. Not like this, Tryst, you’re an adult now, you should get that. No.

“Not now,” she says, because it’s gentler, and at the end of the day he’s always going to be her kid brother.

Tryst exhales. For the briefest of moments, he looks sad, but he settles back into something more neutral. “You want concert tickets?”

“What?”

“We have a couple of reserved seats at our concert tonight. You can come, or bring a friend, or something. Hang out backstage afterwards.” Tryst gives her a pleading look. “I’m not asking you to move in with us, I’m just asking you to visit.”

Rendezvous opens her mouth, but before she can figure out what to say, she catches sight of a waiter, heading their way. “Food’s here.”

“This was completely unproductive,” Tryst says. “I just want to make sure you know that.”

“I’m not sure what you thought it would be,” Rendezvous says as the waiter arrives. Judging by the look on Tryst’s face, he’s not either.

She runs errands, after. She gets groceries, and goes to the post office, and sifts through the frankly terrifying social media response that comes from having a hit touring band play an impromptu show in her bar. And she goes home, and falls asleep, and wakes up too late to go to the concert. Which is fine, because Tryst never called her about the tickets like he promised he would after lunch.

“Damn Valentines,” she says. If she were a lonelier person, maybe she’d be sad that it doesn’t echo in her bedroom.

Leenik Geelo @themynockleenik

guerilla filming: Tryst’s post-show cooldown (think he’s on a Beatles kick) pic.twitter.com/5ummer17

Leenik Geelo @themynockleenik Replying to @themynockleenik

part 2: now an impromptu jam session w/ all of @themynockband and @wildcardkids pic.twitter.com/18arp3jf

Leenik Geelo @themynockleenik Replying to @themynockleenik @themynockband @wildcardkids

good night, bright light city. three shows left.

This playlist is the acoustic set that Tryst and Lyn play at Heatseekers.

Chapter 3

#campaign podcast #campaign #campaign fic #waveridden.fic

14 notes · View notes

aussie-roadkill · 5 years ago

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The cases I saw in court- for small crimes- were way more intricate than this supreme court shit-

“Oh you have history with this guy? he bullied you? what would he do? how often did he do that? who was sitting where on the buss, who was driving, where did you go afterwards, where were you before, how many drinks did you have, who broke up the fight, was there a panel between the back of the fan and the passenger seat? who defended you, what did he say, what time did you leave, where did he hit you, why did he hit you, what time did he hit you, how long until the bus pulled over, what bar were you at, please stop chewing gum in court, how many drinks did your friends have, who got there first, who left first, what time did each person arrive, were you friends with this person recently or for a long time what school did you go to-

the magistrate asked SO. MANY. QUESTIONS. In a minor assault case, and that was from two of the 5+ witnesses that I saw because we left partway through!

And this Von Kalipo dude gets to just say “nah that question doesn’t apply in this case where someone fucking died”

every bit of evidence is crucial!

I get that that’s the point, he’s meant to be an asshole who clearly wins his cases by just ignoring and manipulating evidence, and not letting the defense speak, but holy shit you only need a basic understanding of the functioning of court to know “hey, this guy is literally the worst lawyer.” Bitch woulda got so many innocent people imprisoned because he just wants that paycheck and he’s willing to blatantly order the judge what to do to get there

I’m angery!

#also I saw the case bc it was a school excursion #for commerce #we were studying law and stuff #so we watched the local court #it was fun #my friend knew the people involved

0 notes

theliterateape · 7 years ago

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American Shithole #16 — The Lord of the Rings and Beautiful Things

By Eric Wilson

“Maybe if I take a day off, I won’t have to write about Giuliani?” I thought to myself.

Life had been kicking me in the shins for weeks, and my legs were starting to buckle. It would be an ancillary benefit while hibernating and trying to nip this cold/flu in the bud — the coughing fits alone had me at the brink of exhaustion. Surely someone this revolting and stupid will implode and go away if I just slept for a few days?

“Nope,” said the Universe.

Instead, each coming week I will expect Giuliani to be a tornado touching down during an earthquake in the middle of a raging brush fire during a biblical flood — at least until Trump shitcans the idiot for what I could only imagine to be practicing law without an intellect.

Perhaps this relatively quiet week from the president’s new lawyer is a sign he is fading into the woodwork already… it’s Tuesday, and I’ve barely heard a peep.

Well I’m not biting.

Besides, he is definitely going to do something even dumber than he already has, which for an average idiot, I wouldn’t even consider possible, what with the hush fund and slush fund gaffes. Rudy Giuliani is no normal C-grade idiot though, so it’s a near-certainty this limelight hog is going to fuck up even worse (given the chance) and it seems that ol’ Trumpy is willing to keep Giuliani off the executioner’s block — for now.

Perhaps it’s part of the Don’s master plan — a plan that as much as we can piece things together, seems to center almost entirely on using the presidency as a front for mafia-like activities.

Which is of keen interest to American Shithole, this revelation that goons involved in the Trump campaign were running an extortion racket for an all-access pass to the presidential signing pen. The same pen he uses to chicken scratch his name on all manner of obscene laws and executive orders — producing a series of sharp vertical lines that look less like a signature, and more like a problem child’s drawing of the Gates of Mordor.

Good lord, did you hear his Mother’s Day message? Mom was “basically a nice person?”

Donny, can you show us where your mother never touched you?

Everything Trump does is like a comical, farcical, exaggerated take on our already over-the-top villains of film and literature, so it’s easy to dismiss some of his actions in the wake of so many others. Everything he does is some varying degree of terrible. He is the great eye, lidless, wreathed in orange flame.

Which I suppose makes Giuliani the Mouth of Sauron — I mean, he is a dead ringer.

I’d like to have been a fly on the wall during conversations with his dentist.

“Now about your teeth Mr. Giuliani, it appears that you have been chewing on broken glass and petrified dog shit for 70 years, so I have surgery scheduled for…” “No, I’m good.”

“OK, well, at least let me set some dentures for your uppers?”

“Fine, but you’re ruining my Halloween costume.”

Meanwhile, in Mordor on Monday afternoon — thousands injured, 60 dead and counting during protests at the opening of the U.S. embassy in Jerusalem, and Washington is focusing on the first lady’s kidney operation.

Gosh, I hope she’s OK. Be Best, kidney!

Mordor by the way, is what the Trump Effect feels like for me at times: a painfully long slog through the shittiest part of Middle-earth. Somewhat like watching the films. Randomly fast-forward to a point in any of the three LotR movies, and more often than not, you will land on a scene of people walking somewhere.

I’m worried the Mueller investigation hasn’t even reached Gondor yet. The fucking congressional hobbits are still dicking around with the Nazgul at Weathertop? Shit, we’ve got months, maybe years to go.

Perhaps there is hope in this analogy as the Mouth of Sauron doesn’t appear until near the end of the Lord of the Rings saga.

Anyway, instead of dragging Giuliani through the mud prematurely, I’m going to focus briefly instead on this past week’s big reveal: presidential protection for your business interests is not only available; it’s quite affordable by today’s measure of corporate expenditure.

Hell, it’s a fire sale.

At least two separate LLC shell companies were created by different members of the Trump organization (Lewandowsky; Cohen), apparently in part, to shake down American businesses and industry. Both of which attempted to extort money from AT&T (Cohen was ultimately successful, where Lewandowsky was not), with the likely promise of favoritism from the administration for the Time Warner merger that Trump nixed anyway.

I don’t know how many times I am going to say it, but are you fucking kidding me?

I foolishly thought I was done being surprised by this embarrassing presidential failure of epic proportions only America could muster, but we have dropped trou for all the world to see — and the festering boils on our wrinkled, flaccid democracy are cause for retching from here to Timbuktu.

And it wasn’t just AT&T, it was everybody.

They shook down the auto industry, the pharmaceutical industry — they pimped access to Trump as if the Office of the President of the United States of America were simply some glory hole for anyone that’s got the cash and a stiff business proposal.

Essential Consultants LLC, Cohen’s limited liability corporation that paid Stormy Daniels the hush money, also received funding from Russian oligarch Viktor Vekselberg, Novartis, Korea Aerospace Industries, as well as AT&T — and these are likely just the tip of the iceberg.

Also, was Cohen looking at his daughter’s Barbie Dream House when he named that fucking company? Is there a Ken working the phones at Essential Consultants?

"Essential Consultants, this is Ken speaking, how may I direct your bribe?"

Holy fucking shit. I am sick to my stomach just writing about this latest addition to the shame bucket. Nothing shames these people. Absolutely nothing.

Which brings me to my missed deadline, and what I plan to do about it in the future. First, my apologies, if you were looking forward to a fresh American Shithole last week — for whatever reason, I was unprepared. As I previously imagined, there are going to be weeks that I just don’t want to write about these evil fucking assholes. I may be under the weather, but let’s be honest here:

Writing about these evil fucking assholes every week, is quite often just as much of a slog as living with these evil fucking assholes every week. It’s not cathartic; most of the time I feel like I’m cleaning an outhouse with my brain.

So, between coughing fits and Nyquil-fueled fever-dreams, I figured on occasion I would write about the things in America that are amazing to me. The beautiful things that are not tied to this fucking nightmare we are living through. I’ve tried this before, but I always seem to be waylaid with fresh hell in the news cycle each morning on my now broken toilet.

The Beautiful Things will be an occasional, sporadic reprieve from Komàndant Bonespurs and his daily efforts to ruin my once blissful morning dumps. It will be an exploration of old and new, of the simple pleasures, and the timeless beauty of various creative efforts that for me, make life worth living.

It is my hope that you too, dear reader, will occasionally need a week away from the insanity; where together we can celebrate our artistic beauty unscathed by the ravages of this administration. This will also serve as an opportunity for me to pen a few backup articles that can be published in a pinch, the next time Ari brings the walking death home from one of her business trips — or the next time I don’t care to write about one of Trump’s boot-licking sycophants.

C’mon Mueller, throw the fucking ring into the fires of Mount Doom already.

B. S. Report

Heroes meeting heroes. Let us all celebrate Emma Gonzales meeting with James Shaw Jr., as the Parkland survivors gathered to celebrate another brave American. As the voices of our youth unite across our country, I worry less and less about the deadly opposition they face. Once a towering impenetrable monolith, the NRA of today seems more like a soon-to-be abandoned outpost of a dying empire.

4LWjr

#Giuliani #TRump #Mouth of Sauron #English teeth #Lord of the Rings #Michael Cohen #The Beautiful Things #Emma Gonzales

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bycdsferris-blog · 7 years ago

Text

The Hub

Have you ever died before? Probably not. In fact I’ll bet you haven’t. Which must be nice for you, very nice. I, however, have died, or I am dead, whichever you prefer. I’ve been like this for some time…dead, I mean. I’m not necessarily in shock about this, but it’s still somewhat difficult to wrap my head around. Don’t you think? It’s kind of hard to realize you’re dead. It’s hard to tell how I feel about this whole thing. I’ve always been a person who reacts using reason and not emotion. I like knowing, even if it’s not what I want to hear. Sometimes though, like now, it can be a lot to swallow. I’ve embraced that I’m dead, so in the end there’s not much I can change or do about it. Still though, the whole part about ‘being dead’ is a lot to wrap your mind around. Believe me, I’ve gone through a few mental stages. Believe, like belief, ha! Beliefs. Let me explain how I got here: I’ve got some time, according to them, but I don’t know how much. My name is David, last name doesn’t matter. I was 48 and the president of a major downtown New York Law Firm. Near the end, I realized how I ironic this became: I was in charge of a firm, but I was a criminal, I broke so many laws, and I cheated nearly every day. Monday for lunch and Wednesday night was Jessica. Jessica was a young cute ex-intern (I know! Stereotype, sue me, I don’t care) who I started having an affair with while she still worked with us. When it came time for her to be hired, we had to go with someone else. I put in a good word and Jessica got an even better contract at another place. Now we meet to discuss…growth rates, of sorts (and there isn’t much discussing). Jessica had black hair, and wore a matching pencil skirt, suit and white blouse more than any other outfit (can you guess why?). The best part? She gave the best fucking blowjobs I’ve ever had. I mean, ever. That was actually the primary reason why she was on my Monday lunch: Monday is the hardest day of the week, no one likes it. But getting a BJ that good, managed to make Monday’s a little bit better. Brandy (I know, most stereotypical name for a stripper) was Tuesday evening. I liked to continue my week the right way and she was a good fuck. Nice juicy lips, a nice rack, and she might’ve been a bleach blond on top, but she was definitely one on bottom. Miranda was all day Thursday. I liked getting a massage, and Miranda was my masseuse, among other things. I would visit a strip club, often, and I used to have more girls in my life, but decided it was just too much to handle, so I cut back. I don’t know if my wife knew the entire time, or cared, but after twenty years of marriage I stopped giving a fuck about it (and stopped getting a fuck as well). If she divorced me, so what? I could still fuck my three girls and have more time to add other girls back in, while seeing the kids every other week…and on the off weekends, I could add a few more girls, or visit another strip joint. The other problem, was the illegal activity I engaged in and how I got some extra money on the side. One of them was going to our poorer clients houses after having a case with them and they paid. We’d come visit and point blank threaten them for money to keep things safe. Confused? Think restaurant protection money: pay us and things won’t “accidently happen.” We called it “The Insurance Scheme.” If someone didn’t pay, we would go to their house, family, anywhere and break things, and make it look like someone broke in (we knew how to get away with this). But those who lived there, knew it was us. We’d always end any intimidation session or action with “Who the FUCK are you going to go to? We are the FUCKING lawyers!” And then leave. Now you might think that a few extra $500 a month isn’t a big deal to someone who makes a low seven figure salary a year. But, what you don’t realize, is how many “small” clients like this we actually had, there were a lot. It also helped us by extra luxuries for life. We’d get asked by other firms why we “kept so many small clients around and not just go to big name clients?” We just smiled and asked if they planned to expand their client list. (This normally brought them to being defensive. No you assholes, we’re not trying to take your clients, we’re trying to distract you.) Anyways, my wife either eventually found out, or eventually she decided to care that I was cheating. I was at a rooftop party one night, attempting to recruit college students to our firm. I was talking with a young, sexy blond and I suddenly see my wife burst through the doors in an old sweater and jeans. Had I not seen her, it would’ve been easy to spot her: everyone else was wearing cocktail attire, and suddenly a wild woman storms through the party. I was standing near the railing, looking over a cup of white wine out into the skyline with the blond. My wife charged through the party (half the guests saw her, and rolled their eyes or shook their heads and continued to talk) and looked wildly for me. I was in the middle of seducing the girl, when she finally spotted me and rushed toward me screaming. She grabbed my lapels, shoved me back and forth, screaming in my face. After taking a breath, she started yelling at me, demanding to know “how many are there?” I thought about it, then counted them off for her and then pointed to the young girl next to us (she was wide-eyed at this point) and said, “Almost.” My wife turned, red in the face, and looked to the young college student and then back to me and pushed me off the edge. It seemed slow on the way down but I don’t think it was really that bad. It didn’t feel like the movies show, that’s for sure. I said earlier that I felt the end was coming, and when it did actually happen, I wasn’t scared or nervous, didn’t try to reach or grab for anything. I fell a total of 47 stories. At the 40th floor, I knew it was over so I put my hands behind my head (like I was in a hammock) and landed on the street like that. Probably freaked out the paramedics and police a bit (“What the hell?”). Was my wife arrested? Don’t know, and I don’t really care. One second I’m looking at the New York sky, and see clouds drift over me, some bright from the city lights, others dark. I felt some pain, and the next thing I know, I’m seeing dark purple storm clouds. Off in the distance is a dark brown mountain range. The ground was dark brown with what looked like cracks you’d find in a desert. A man appeared over me. Young, late twenties, I think. He had on a light blue button down with a brown pattern that was stretched over his chest (it looked like a muscle shirt almost). His pants were khaki’s and slip-on dress shoes. His hair was short but combed up at the front. He held out his hand, I took it and noticed I still had on my party attire: black suite, pants and white shirt. The young man helped me to my feet, “The name is Cain.” “David,” and shook his hand then went to dust myself off. Or I would’ve, had there been any dust on me. I looked at my hands and they looked normal. I reached for the back of my head didn’t feel anything unusual. “Where am I?” I asked him. I knew part of the answer already, it was 47 stories, I’m not dumb. “You’re dead, David,” Cain started, “You fell off a skyscraper in New York while attending a party.” “I was pushed by my wife.” I responded. “Ah, so you remember. That’s good. Not everyone does.” Cain looked at me. “What?” “You seem very calm for someone who just found out they died.” Cain noticed. “Is there anything I can do about it?” I asked, figuring I knew the answer already. Cain thought for a moment and then shrugged, “I guess you’re right. Most people just start to freak out. It’s happens so much it’s actually become normal for that response. A calm person like you feels weird.” “Normal?” “Yeah.” “What do you mean by normal?” And where am I exactly?” While knowing I was dead, where I was dead was more curious to me. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t going to heaven, and this sure didn’t look like hell. “Right now, you’re at The Hub. This is the place where all souls gather after they die and before they move on. From here you’ll either go on up to heaven or down to hell.” Cain explained. “So this place is?” “The Hub is a halfway point. Souls collect here until the big guy upstairs says otherwise. Then it start to get a bit crazy. “See, everyone comes down here, and I mean everyone. Once they reach here, there’s not a thing they can do to influence their outcome.” Cain kept on explaining “Could you do that already?” “Actually, yes. There is a formula they use to determine this kinda stuff.” Cain answered. “Is it difficult?” “Eh,” Cain thought for a moment and then shrugged again, “They don’t tell me the specifics. I’m just here to be a guide to the next life.” “You seem pretty casual about it.” I remarked. “Well, like I said: I’ve been doing this for a long time. When I died, I was given a choice: go to hell for murdering my brother, or do this for eternity. I chose this.” “Murdering your brother,” I thought about it for a minute, “Abel?” “Yeah, we’re pretty famous.” Cain joked. I stepped back in shock. Holy shit! I’m talking to Cain! “Yes you are,” Cain smiled back. “C-Can you read my thoughts?” I asked embarrassed. “Yes. Think of me as a human angel: I look human, but I have angelic power.” Cain answered. I looked at him in shock for a little longer. He laughed and asked if I had any more questions. “Tell me more about The Hub.” I was curious. “Turn around.” Cain instructed. I had been looking at Cain and staring out into the mountain range behind him since I had gotten to my feet. Turning around 180 degree’s (the mountain range continued around) I came to look at what appeared to be a large one story log cabin that you might find in some tourist-trap location. There was a main floor that had its front and side walls gone. The roof angled up to one little look-out window on top. It really looked like a Florida “goody store” made out of timber. It looked out of place. I stared. “What?” was all I could mutter. “Well, the big man doesn’t want you to be bored while you wait. Even if you are going to hell.” “So this is truly just a middle location? A halfway house?” “You’ve been to church right? And read the bible before? Remember purgatory?” “Yes.” “Well, the translation has been a bit skewed, but this is purgatory.” Cain revealed. “Wow, well I’ll be damned.” I realized too late and shot a look over to Cain. “Really couldn’t care less.” He shrugged it off. Cain guided me towards The Hub and asked if I had any more questions. “So do you live here then?” “Yeah, you could say it’s my home. I come back here after dropping people off down there.” Cain motioned with his finger downward. “Are there others?” “Yeah, there are a few of us. We greet, answer any questions, and do our best to help people through the realization process of being dead. There are a handful of us down here, but only two people transport souls, I’m one of them.” Cain explained. “Who’s the other?” I was curious. “Peter.” “Like Saint Peter?” I felt a cold chill go through my body. “The very same.” Cain smiled. “The one that guards the pearly gates?” “Meh,” Cain shrugged, “Again, lost in translation.” “So what happens when…?” I didn’t know how phrase what I wanted to say. “Well, when it starts, a breeze starts to pick up and two wind funnels form.” Cain started. “Like tornadoes?” I asked. “Yeah, like tornadoes,” Cain shrugged, “The funnels, spin in different directions: one going up and one going down. People try to run and hide, but it does no good.” “People really try to hide? Here?” I was shocked at first, but realized how much sense it could make. “Yeah. There are always those who think they can escape. We also put up those two signs that read ‘Heaven’ and ‘Hell.’” Cain pointed to either side of The Hub. The right side had a sign that read “Heaven” and the left had a sign that read “Hell.” “People think that the closer they stand to those signs. The better chance they have of going there.” “Really?” “Oh yeah. We’ve had a murderer come in and stand directly under the Heaven sign with a big smile on his face. When the funnels came and he was pulled towards the one going down, the look on his face was priceless.” I looked at Cain in shock. That didn’t sound very angelic. “It’s not really,” Cain smiled. FUCK! I thought. I forgot that he could read my thoughts. “But, then again, tell me you’ve never felt good when seeing a smug smile wiped off some assholes face?” I nodded in agreement. It made sense, “Does it matter who greets a person, to where they’ll end up going?” “Not really.” Cain answered. I hesitated, “…I assume you get asked this a lot, but, do you know where I’m going?” “Yeah. Here’s my answer: Where do you think you’re going?” Cain asked. I stopped in my tracks. I knew where I was going but didn’t want to say it out loud. While I knew it in my mind, saying it somehow made it…more real. I glanced down and Cain didn’t argue. “So we have every book, piece of art, and movie ever made. Pretty much anything that’s ever existed is here,” Cain put his hands in his pockets and started moving again towards The Hub, “We’ve also got toys, but we ask that you leave those for the kids.” “For the kids?” I asked and my heart sank into my stomach. We arrived at The Hub and Cain turned to me, “We’re here, I have to go out and greet others. Try to keep yourself entertained. I don’t know how long it’ll be.” I nodded and thanked him, then watched him walk away to meet the dead.

I don’t know how long it’s been since that talk, but I remember it well. I’ve read a few hundred books since then but got bored. Now here I sit, leaning up against the side of The Hub, waiting. I changed out of my party attire some time back. There are no days, no nights, the dark purple storm clouds just continue above in constant motion. They give off the sense that something is about to happen, but it doesn’t. It’s a bad waiting game. I haven’t had to eat or drink in, well, since I got here. I haven’t had the need to pee. I haven’t had the urge to have sex, or even felt turned on. Hell, I haven’t even had to sneeze or cough since I got here. People come all the time, which is sad when you stop and think about it. Some are crying, some laughing, and some are in shock. I’ve seen a few people pissed off cursing everything when they arrived. The worst are those who can’t accept their fate here. They will cry, fall to their knees, beg and try to make a deal with the greeters. When they realize (or aren’t able to comprehend it) they usually start hugging the legs of whoever greeted them, sobbing. All the greeters can do are stand there and give them words of help and encouragement, but firmly say that there’s no going back. It’s a sad sight really. Sometimes I feel lucky knowing that I don’t care, that thought it usually followed by the reminder of where I’m going, which is followed by the thought I deserved it. And I know it. I haven’t made conversation with anyone. I have no reason to. There’s no reason to talk to anyone here, for me at least. I don’t want to meet anyone here. Instead, I just sit here against the side of The Hub, waiting. I feel a breeze wisp by me and at first I think nothing of it. Then I realize that I haven’t felt anything like that sense the night of the fall. When the breeze was air being pushed by me. Suddenly I hear a scream and I stand up, It’s time. I know it. From the side, I move to the front of The Hub and look out to a large crowd of people standing. Some talking, some not, most are looking around. They had the talk, and realize the breeze is picking up and realize what’s about to happen. No funnels have formed yet and while I don’t know how it’s going to happen, I realize that I do want to see what Cain was talking about. The breeze turns into a wind and even more people start to scream. I can see the look in their eyes: sheer panic. Their faces have fear imprinted on them. I stuff my hands into my pockets and breathe in and out. Tears started to accompany the screams and suddenly, the wind starts to form two circular patterns, one going down and one going up. This is when it happened: nearly everyone ran to the right side and tried to get as close to the sign that read “Heaven” as possible. But to no avail: the first people started to fly out of the crowd. Some people tried to grab onto others, teary eyed. Those that were grabbed onto appear horrified: some in too much shock to do anything, some try to pry themselves loose, other try to hold onto those flying away. Some that were held onto start to be lifted up. This led to an even more chaotic scene. Nearly everyone was screaming. The sound is worse than I’ve ever heard, not loud, but the sound of pure and utter terror. “What did I tell you?” Cain appeared near me and I nodded. He looked at me, “You ready?” I Shrugged, “I guess.” I had been ready until this terrifying scene began. The realization that it was now happening, mixed with the screams, made my stomach sink a little. Not for myself, I know I deserved what was about to happen, there was no reason to cry, or yell or freak out, I felt bad for them. Souls kept flying around, up and down and I wondered if anything was actually going to happen to me. Suddenly, and finally, I began to feel my feet lift up. I didn’t try to struggle or fight. I just let it happen. I move towards the funnel spinning downwards, near the bottom. We didn’t move down right away. Cain appeared, “Grab my hand!” He shouts and I reach for his and reach out my other hand, feel a wrist and hold tight. We start to move down, through the ground, then suddenly through it into total darkness. You couldn’t see it, but the funnel dissipated and we started to fly, still downwards, holding hands. And then, as though being pulled through a curtain, white is all around. I’m surrounded by it except for a large yellow blur in front of us. “What’s that?” I shout to Cain. “That’s hell!” Cain responds. “What?!?” “Hell is again mistranslated.” Cain answers. “Jesus!” I screamed, and then realized the irony. “How much has been mistranslated?” I ask. Cain looks back, “A lot.” I didn’t ask for an explanation. I figured it was fruitless at this point. We keep flying closer to the yellow blur. Everything keeps getting hotter and hotter…

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