#plumber coming tomorrow to see if he can find where it's coming from | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sehunniepotwrites · 4 years ago

Text

if we were a movie | j.jh

for @nctsworld’s first writing challenge

SYNOPSIS. For someone who was always the understudy and never the lead, scoring this role was huge for you. All you had to do was pretend to be in love with your best friend. No big deal, right? Wrong. It was the biggest deal because, for the past four years, you had been hiding your feelings for Jung Jaehyun.

If this were a movie, he would be your perfect match and the story would end happily with the credits rolling to a perfectly timed soundtrack. Too bad this wasn’t a movie— this was real life and life came with complications.

GENRE. childhood friends to lovers!au, college!au, drama school!au, slow burn, angst, humor, mutual pining, fluff (loosely based on the Filipino rom-com Must Be Love and If We Were a Movie by Hannah Montana) PAIRING. theatre major!Jaehyun x theatre major!reader WORD COUNT. 14+ k

WARNINGS. point of view switches from first (”I”) to second (”you”); self-doubt, insecurities, mutual pining, cursing, lots of references and direct quotes from musicals such as Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella, Disney’s Newsies, Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, Shrek the Musical, and Wicked (edited but i might’ve missed some mistakes; bare with me!)

There are moments where time flows as normal, where people carry on with their days as they usually do. Then, there are moments people experience in slow-motion, where the world just stops spinning and all the background noise just fades away. These are the moments people look forward to. They’re the breathtaking ones, the ones that capture your heart and soul. After those moments, people are never the same.

The first time I experienced something in slow motion was when I made my stage debut at a small talent show. There was thunderous applause after my performance and while my heart thumped against my chest, the world seemed to come to a stop. That’s when I knew my heart belonged to the stage or rather, the stage belonged to me.

Some of these slo-mo moments are the ones where people fall in love.

My father said that’s how he knew my mother was the one for him: he experienced it all at a slowed rate, everything fading into black and she was the only thing he saw. She was his brightest star and he was the one who reached for the sky to bring her down to Earth.

When I was younger, I always dreamed about my “falling in love” slow-mo moment. I pictured a grandiose event with large actions and sweet words. For it to actually happen at theatre camp during the initial dress rehearsal for Disney’s Beauty and the Beast J.R.— well, that was far from what I hoped for.

And yet, it was just as special as I thought it would be.

I was in my obnoxious fork costume, waiting for my best friend to leave the boy’s dressing room.

Jung Jaehyun had been my best friend since the beginning, otherwise known as my first year at theatre camp. Only ten years old at the time, we both were cast as two of the three blind mice in Shrek the Musical and had been inseparable ever since. Although we attended different middle schools, our friendship grew from our shared vocal and dance lessons as well as our summers at camp. You know how it is; those who end up in the ensemble together stay together.

Going over the dance moves in my head, I didn’t hear my friend’s voice calling my name. He gripped my shoulder, the action surprising me to the point where I lost my balance. I yelped and shut my eyes, expecting to fall onto the hard ground but a hand grabbing onto my wrist prevented my doom. With an arm around my waist, I barely missed the ground.

Slowly opening my eyes, I glanced up to see Jung Jaehyun looking down at me with a worried gaze. He was just a sixteen-year-old boy dressed as a spoon and yet, the world around us came to a halt. Gone were the other frantic theatre kids and the backstage messes. The couple playing Belle and the Beast was no longer sitting across from us, running through their lines. No hustle and bustle of the crew and the props masters.

It was just me dressed as a fork, falling down while my spoon for a best friend caught me in his arms.

“We make quite a pair, don’t we, Forky?” he chuckled lowly, hitting the top of his costume to mine. It was a ridiculous sight— a pair of oversized cutlery in a crowded dressing room.

A burning hot sensation crept its way up to my face as he gently pulled me up. “I guess we do.”

Since then, my life has never been the same. I was in love with my best friend, Jung Jaehyun. I fell for him when the world stopped spinning beneath my feet while his world, unfortunately, kept on turning.

I remember each and every slowed-down moment in life —the good, the bad, and the absolute worst. I never thought a bad slo-mo moment existed, I simply didn’t think it was possible.

I was young and naive then and I was so incredibly wrong.

The moment that hurt me most took place in my senior year of high school. The final callbacks for our community’s production of Disney’s Newsies were in order. The role of Jack Kelly, the headstrong and flirty newsboy, was easily given to the ever-so-charming Jung Jaehyun. He was not only my best friend at the time but he was the it-boy of our small theatre. People were either in love with him or wanted to be him— his talent matched his insane looks. His kind personality made him all the more lovable.

Jaehyun had his two fatal flaws, though. Everyone knew them but still saw him in such a bright light.

One: the boy was extremely clumsy. Jaehyun was often called “magic hands,” constantly ruining his props. It was a running gag in the theatre but the props committee never minded; one smile was all it took for them to forgive him and his cursed hands.

That was his first flaw. And his second? Jaehyun fell in love way too easily and way too fast.

How exactly did I find this out? Well, I was there to witness the scene that lifted his heart to the highest of levels while mine dropped straight to the ground.

I was in the running for the stubbornly intelligent female lead named Katherine Plumber. My opponent was the confident and radiant Son Wendy. She always played the lead in her high school productions but this was a community musical and I was determined to claim that part as my own.

I went first, entering the audition room with a smile with the script gripped tightly in my palm. Performing alongside my best friend was easy. The romantic scene was a piece of cake, not because the lines were a breeze. That wasn’t it at all. It wasn’t because I memorized the Newsies script as a child either. It was because, at that moment, Jung Jaehyun was in love with me as much as I was in love with him. It was a moment I wanted to cherish forever: the way he looked at me was something I had never experienced before. It was so full of emotion and passion, like he had me within his grasp and never wanted to let me go.

“You got this. I believe in you,” he whispered in my ear, squeezing my hand in support. His breath tickled my skin and sent shivers down my spine. The nerves were back, not because of the audition, but because of him.

“You’re just saying that because it’s the scene we’re about to act out, Jae,” I hissed. The sheet music for the duet, Something to Believe In, wrinkled in my free palm.

His warm, comforting hand pressed harder against my own. “No, it’s not that. If you need someone to believe in you, I’m right here. I’ve got you, Forky. Always.”

The director cleared his throat from his seat, his scrutinizing eyes watching us closely as we got into position, just like we rehearsed a thousand times. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I watched as Jaehyun took a deep breath to get into character. He closed his eyes, rolled his broad shoulders back, and then his lids snapped open. His brown-eyed gaze aimed straight at me, with a vulnerable expression taking over his features. He was no longer Jung Jaehyun— he was Jack Kelly, a scared newsboy who was in love with a newspaper company heiress.

The line came pouring out of his mouth with the utmost sincerity, the confusion and affection seeping through his words, “Just standing here tonight, looking at you, I’m scared tomorrow is gonna come and change everything.”

Jaehyun took a step forward towards me, an unsure smile curling on his lips. “If there was a way I could just grab hold of something to make time stop just so I could keep looking at you.”

His body stops right in front of mine, keeping a clear distance but enough to feel the passion radiating off of his words and actions. For once in my young life, my best friend looked at me with a different kind of love in his eyes and I returned it, my genuine feelings seeping through my words.

Biting my lip, I replied coyly, “You snuck up on me, Jack Kelly, I never even saw it coming.”

“For sure?” he stage-whispered. His upstage hand unexpectedly reached up to caress my cheek. The action was unrehearsed, almost catching me off guard. It was a different take on the scene. The characters were supposed to be shy, their thoughts wavering on their own feelings for each other and the impending strike that was to come the day after; yet, Jaehyun played Jack as someone certain of his feelings.

“For sure,” I answered back at the same volume, my hand cupping his own to follow along with his direction. It felt as if he was searching my soul for my thoughts and I could not let him in. The opening bars of the romantic duet echoed throughout the room and after taking a breath, I began to sing. Jaehyun joined in on the second verse and instantly, our voices blended together in a beautiful harmony, one that beat our Newsies karaoke sessions in his car.

The scene ended as quickly as it began. The director hummed before jotting notes down and whispering to his casting assistants for a few seconds. I thought they were the longest seconds of my life. Jaehyun nodded his head to reassure me. “You did well, Forky.”

“Of course I did, it’s me we’re talking about here,” I nudged him back. “I can do no wrong, Jae!”

“Thank you,” the director finally spoke, “you may go. Jaehyun, if you could escort her out and fetch Wendy for me?”

“Of course,” your friend nodded. The feeling of his large hand on my back slowly guided me out of the room. The spot he touched me burned but my cheeks were burning even more. Why was it that every little touch drove me to the brink of insanity?

“You’re so going to land this part,” I remember him saying as he squeezed my waist. My heart was beating erratically against my ribcage, the butterflies in my stomach threatening to fly their way up my throat.

“You think so?”

“Oh definitely,” Jaehyun stressed with a wink.

He said it too soon.

Because the minute he locked gazes with Son Wendy, I just knew he had found his leading lady.

“S-Son Wendy?” he stuttered as he caught sight of the pretty girl in the waiting room. Her hair was styled similarly to a young maiden from the turn of the century, perfectly curled and out of her face.

“Yes?” she smiled back.

It seemed like the words were caught in my best friend’s throat. Sneaking a glance at Jaehyun’s ears, they burned a bright red. “We’re, um, we’re ready for you.”

I watched as Jaehyun nervously offered his arm to her, his eyes never leaving her face. It was like he was her own personal spotlight, the way his eyes shone just for the girl in front of him. The boy was completely enamored and I was instantly in the shadows. The sweet smile that was reserved for me was directed towards another and it sparkled in a way it never did before.

The world around me moved incredibly slow as they passed me by. With everything frozen, all I saw was the gorgeous couple headed to the audition room with hushed exchanges. Jaehyun took his time heading to the private room to spend more time with the girl while Son Wendy steadily made her way into my friend’s fragile heart. My own heart clenched at the sight. It was breaking ever so slowly and I felt every little crack and tear.

Even with the role of the understudy, it was as if I never even had a chance at winning his heart over. If Wendy wasn’t present for one rehearsal, Jaehyun didn’t even see me— his own best friend since our ensemble days. He was way too deep into his “showmance.” It was like I never even existed. It wasn’t long before he called Wendy his girlfriend and then, I was invisible. Cast aside. Ignored.

Needless to say, my heart broke in slow-motion as Jaehyun’s pounded rapidly for a girl that took two parts I desperately ached for: Katherine Plumber and the girl who held Jaehyun’s heart.

But this was just the first time his heart was stolen by his opposite. The first of many.

The first two years of university passed me by like a summer breeze. Constantly busy with general education and introductory drama courses, I was constantly flitting around from building to building. My hands were usually occupied by my laptop, a blazing cup of caffeinated tea, and a worn out script while my mind was filled with jumbled up lines and the dramatic cries of an overwhelmed university student. I probably wouldn’t have made it this far if it wasn’t for Jaehyun and Xiao Dejun, another theatre major we had met during orientation, by my side.

Fast forward to my third year and the three of us were headed to the office of the theatre department. It was posting day for the spring musical— the day the cast list was revealed. This year’s musical spectacular was Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella. The play itself was a modern classic and it was also my dream come true.

This day, just like any posting day of the drama department, was nerve-racking. Everyone was anxious to find out what parts they were given and how the fairytale would play out. The part of the brave and kind Ella was always on my list of roles I wanted to fill. As much as I thought I did well on my final callback, I didn’t want to set my hopes too high.

“Are you nervous?” Jaehyun asked while draping an arm over my shoulder. He playfully put all his weight onto his right side to throw me off balance.

“Nervous? Me? Why would I be nervous if I’m like 95% sure I’m going to get the understudy again?” I chuckled sarcastically. Bitterly. It happened every year, so why get my hopes up now?

“Yeah but—”

“No buts, I’ve accepted the title of the Wonderstudy! I think you should too, Jae,” I slapped his shoulder before quickly slipping out of his hold before linking arms with Dejun. My best friend let out a yelp, almost tripping over his own two feet as we continued down the hallway. “I’m mediocre at best.”

The Wonderstudy: it was the nickname the other students in the department gave me because I was always the understudy. I was never the star of the show. It said that I was good but not good enough.

Dejun leaned in and whispered, “You do know that you’re more than just that, right? You’re an actor. A phenomenal one. You weren’t accepted to this drama program by just being mediocre at best.”

I ignored my friend’s comment, eyes zoned in at the other end of the building. The crowd of usual theatre students crowded around the bulletin board, curious heads popping up and down trying to take a peek at the list. Some buzzed with excitement, happy they got a major part while others groaned in disappointment. You were most likely going to be with the later group.

Once the cluster of students caught sight of Jaehyun, they parted like the red sea to let him through. It wasn’t really necessary, though, everyone knew the it-boy of the drama department was cast as the role of the misguided prince, Topher.

The only question was: who was cast as his princess? Who was this year’s Ella?

I fought my way through the bunch with Dejun following behind me as our best friend was showered with congratulations. Jaehyun was all smiles, dimples prominent as he was lavished by the mass. Dejun made it to the list first. His finger dragged along the thin paper until he found his name. He cheered, pumping his fist up in joy. “I got the part I wanted! I’m Jean-Michel!”

Grinning at my friend, I sincerely congratulated him. He got the second lead: the feisty peasant looking for change. Turning again, his eyes grazed the list until Dejun found my name. His smile dropped ever so slightly and that was when I knew: I was beaten once again.

“What part did I get?”

“Gabrielle,” he answered. Ah, the outwardly abrasive but quietly empathetic sister. The second lead, love interest of Jean-Michel. At least I was playing Dejun’s opposite.

I took a step closer, wondering who took the part of the kind princess. Squinting at the small print, my eyes scanned the jumble of words until I saw it.

Ella……………………….Lee Naeun Ella u/s………………….Y/N

I scoffed. Forever the understudy. The Wonderstudy of the Theatre Department indeed.

The first rehearsal, otherwise known as the read-through, took a toll on me. It was usually a two to three hour long session, filled with loud chatter, crazy introductions, and a variety of crazy theatre games to break the ice. When the niceties ended, everyone took their seats in their plastic chairs that were arranged in a huge circle. Bae Joohyun, the head stage manager began reading the stage directions aloud as the table read began. The production’s director, Professor O’Hare, sat alongside Joohyun, jotting down notes and giving out commentary when needed.

Amongst the reading of lines were tiny whispers, the sound of highlighters and pencils marking the paper, and the simultaneous turning of pages. The music director, Professor Lau sat at the piano bench and sight-read the music to give the cast a taste of the songs. Being the first rehearsal, the few who knew of the songs sang along to the accompaniment with joyous smiles, myself and Dejun included.

When Professor Lau played the first romantic duet between the leads, all heads turned to Jaehyun and Naeun who sat side-by-side. With it being their first time together, the performance was far from perfect but it was still something. His lower tone blended nicely with her softer voice and the shy glances they exchanged made their duet quite a sight.

As Jaehyun and Naeun read the last lines for Act One, I noticed the way Jaehyun’s gaze kept flittering back to Naeun’s pretty face. The girl was focused on her lines, head down and hair blocking her gorgeous features, but he still kept looking at her and only her. I could imagine how the scene was playing out in his head, the world slowing down until Naeun was the only one moving. He was infatuated. Twitterpated.

And it hurt. It hurt more than reading the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet or listening to Elphaba’s desperate cry she lets out when she loses Fiyero. Call me dramatic but that was how I felt.

It wasn’t like I tried getting over him. It wasn’t like I tried dating other people before; I had many, many times but my mind always drifted back to my best friend. He was the boy with the richest brown eyes, the perfectly dimpled smile, and the lowest laugh that set my heart aflame. Without even knowing it, Jaehyun had this incredible hold on my broken heart and he would not let me out of his grip.

The green-eyed monster inside me resurfaced and I hated it. I absolutely hated it— why was I so pathetically in love with my best friend?

“Here we go again,” I said before dropping my head onto the table.

“You say that every time and you keep running back to him at the end of the day,” Dejun whispered before looking back down at his script. His hand continued to jet across the page, his highlighter marking his many lines.

Rolling up the script in my hand, I whacked his side. The action caused his hand to jerk the bright marker in another direction, striking a distorted line on his page. “Look what you did, twerp!” he hissed.

“Your fault, Eyebrows!”

“Stop calling me that, you fork!”

“Hey, only I can call her fork!” Jaehyun appeared out of nowhere, plopping alongside me. His voice snapped us out of our little argument, making us realize that the director called for a fifteen.

“That’s only because you’re a dumb spoon,” I stuck my tongue out at him. Jaehyun pretended to reach for it and I blew a raspberry at him to retaliate.

“You two idiots are my favorite cutlery set,” Dejun shook his head with a laugh. He was probably wondering why he stuck around us the majority of the time.

“Let off it, Dejun,” Jaehyun said with the roll of his brown orbs.

“Only if you let me be the knife to your set.”

“As if, dumbass,” I countered with a laugh.

“Okay but you guys, can we stop fighting for a sec and talk about how I got her number?” Jaehyun beamed, throwing his arms over both our shoulders. He pulled us closer to his body and the faint smell of his musky cologne hit my nose. I held back a sigh as it filled my senses. Oh, to be drowned in his scent.

“I got Naeun’s number!” he repeated excitedly, his strong arms shaking us. I held back my abrupt want to push him off. I wasn’t in a celebrating mood. My heart was too broken to care.

“Of course you did, when do you not get a girl’s number?” I answered a bit too bitterly. Raising a brow at him, I added, “Are we supposed to be surprised?”

“Listen,” Jaehyun countered, pulling back from me. “I don’t like that attitude, Forky.”

I scoffed, “Never stopped you from being my friend before, Jae.”

Jaehyun didn’t answer; he was too busy clutching his phone. His pretty brown eyes were fixed on Naeun’s contact page like it was the world’s greatest treasure. His eyes were sparkling in admiration before his gaze turned to the girl across the room. The look my best friend wore on his face was soft, the smile on his lips light. “I think she could be the one.”

Some thought him to be a player but I never thought of him that way. He might have had the looks of a heartbreaker but he had the purest heart of gold. The boy with the dimpled smile, porcelain skin, and cheeks as red as roses was a hopeless romantic to his very core. He was simply looking for his other half.

“I think she could be the one.” His words repeated in my head, his voice pestering me. My heart lurched at them despite hearing them each semester.

Jaehyun said this every year, with every girl. He said this when he crushed on Son Wendy, Kim Chungha, and so many more. His infatuations and crushes ended just as easily as they started. The boy was more than disappointed when the initial spark with each girl ended after a show’s run ended. When the musical closed, so did his feelings for each opposite.

I never got stage fright; I was usually the one who said what was on her mind without a moment’s hesitation. So why was I hesitating to tell him my feelings?

Why was I hesitating to say that the one Jaehyun could be looking for was standing right next to him?

Just another rehearsal at the auditorium.

Just another day watching my best friend fall for his leading lady.

Jaehyun and Naeun were standing in the middle of the stage, the ensemble surrounding them. He stood behind her, his hands gently placed on her waist while she leaned back into his touch. Naeun was wearing a fluffy tulle skirt, a mock-up of her ballgown. Park Sooyoung, the resident fashion major and lead costume designer, pushed her to wear it so she could get used to the estimated size of her dress. Even in a mere tank top and tulle skirt, Lee Naeun looked like a princess.

Professor Kwon, the choreographer of the production, stood at the end with a watchful eye. She counted them off, walking them through the routine while the rest of us practiced our steps off to the sidelines.

Once the two main characters got the hang of their steps, Professor Kwon motioned for Professor Lau to play the songs from the beginning. As much as I tried to focus on my own dance moves, my mind kept wandering back to Jaehyun.

Imagining him under the spotlight in a perfectly tailored suit, a crown sitting on his head, extending his arm out not to Naeun but to me. It was one of those movie moments where the characters and the audience watching fell in love.

If life was like a movie, things would be so much easier.

So lost in my thoughts, I missed a count and stepped on my partner’s foot. Muttering a quiet sorry to him, we continued on with the routine. As my partner swirled me around the dance floor, I drifted back into my daydream.

My utterly impossible daydream where I was the girl Jung Jaehyun was infatuated with. Although this play talked about impossible things happening everyday, I couldn’t imagine this ever happening.

The terrible thing about being a theatre major in university was being a theatre major with midterms. Not only did I have to deal with hours of my back hunched over a desk and scattered study materials, I had to spend half of my days in the school’s theatre rehearsing.

If I was not in class scribbling down last minute notes in notebooks, I was learning dance routines or running lines on and off stage alongside Dejun. The days were long and the nights were even longer. Sometimes, the cast fell asleep in the seats of the auditorium while rehearsals were going on. We were all losing sleep. Some of us were losing our sanity but hey, welcome to the theatre.

My schedule was filled to the brim and I wasn’t even the main character of the show. On top of that, I had to memorize the part of Ella. Not that it was really needed in the first place.

No one ever stepped down from a lead role while I was their backup. It just didn’t happen.

Despite the hectic lives of belonging to the theatre department, the musical was two months into production and everything was running smoothly. With a month and a left until opening night, everyone was off-book and the initial stage blocking was done. The costuming and makeup committee were finishing up their mock-up designs and the student orchestra sounded divine.

I saw more of Dejun than Jaehyun lately, my best friend being preoccupied with his new love interest before, during, and after rehearsals. I was cast aside once again.

Was it something out of the ordinary? No.

Did it still hurt? Yes.

Did I do anything about it? Absolutely not. I didn’t want to ruin his happiness. I rather suffer than see him as nothing but joyous, even if the happiness was temporary. The grin he wore when he was in love was too beautiful to rip away. Jaehyun shined like the light from the sun. I could never bring myself to do it.

It was week eight of rehearsals when I stepped out of my last midterm, my head absolutely empty after reading small text for over an hour. Reaching into my backpack’s front pocket, I pulled out my cell phone and quickly turned it on. My screen was flooded with missed calls and texts from Professor O’Hare, Joohyun, Jaehyun, and Dejun, the notification numbers reaching over a hundred total.

Something must have happened. Talk about a theatre emergency. Knowing our kind, they were probably being overdramatic.

Just as I was about to unlock my phone, a video call went through. It was Dejun. Rolling my eyes, I slid my finger across the screen to answer it. “Jeez, I know you love me but give a girl a break, Eyebrows!”

“God, you’re so conceited sometimes. Why didn’t you answer my calls?!” He shouted, face close to the phone. I winced at the volume, immediately lowering the level as I slipped on my wireless earbuds. “There are important matters to discuss here!”

“What happened this time? Did someone say Macbeth in the theatre again? You know I don’t believe in that shit,” I said sarcastically.

“Oh my god. This is not the time for jokes! Everyone’s been trying to reach you!” Xiaojun yelled once more. “Where are you?!”

“I just got out of my musical history midterm in Maple Hall. Heading to the theatre right now. Why?” I never received an answer; Dejun hung up the call. Giving my phone a weird look, I shoved it in my pocket before continuing on my way. A light push on my back prevented me from going too far.

“Twerp!” Xiao Dejun’s voice came from behind me, yanking me by the straps of my backpack. He was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. “Oh my god, we’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he said in between heavy breaths.

Crossing my arms, I cocked a brow at him. “Why’s that?”

Dejun placed a hand on my shoulder for support. The words came flying out of his mouth, I almost couldn’t catch what he was saying. So much for being a theatre major.

“Speak clearly, Dejun. Enunciate, articulate, exaggerate, remember? We are thespians and thespians do not mumble!”

The exhausted boy ignored my theatricals. “Naeun didn’t land a switch leap right and she rolled her ankle during advanced ballet. She’s going to be out for at least three to four weeks,” my friend replied breathily, his words a lot clearer than before.

The news shocked me to the core, my feet suddenly planted to the ground. It sounded like he said Naeun was out of commission. “What?”

“She’s out for three to four weeks! I mean sucks for her, I wish her a speedy recovery but do you know what this means?”

The lack of response from me urged him to continue, “Sweetheart, she’s out. You’re in!”

Oh shit. I was in.

The part I had always dreamed of was mine. The lead role was finally mine.

I was now Ella and Jung Jaehyun was my Prince Topher.

Having an understudy step up to their role halfway through production was always something to get used to. It was a setback, a minor one, but still a setback. Just as Jaehyun finally settled into his role and built an unshakeable bond with Lee Naeun as his opposite, the accident happened. His potential girlfriend was now out of the show and off her feet in order to push for a speedy recovery.

The lovesick boy couldn’t even be there for her because his rehearsal times increased in order to get his best friend adjusted to your new role. There he was, leaning against the piano while waiting for you to arrive.

Professor Lau sat at the bench, flipping through his sheet music until he found the song he was looking for.

The door slammed open and you stumbled in. “Am I late? I’m sorry, I just heard the news.”

“No, not at all. You’re right on time,” the professor smiled at you. “The situation’s weird, I know but congratulations on getting Ella.”

“Thanks, Professor. That means a lot,” you grinned back.

Dropping your bag by the piano, you swiftly pulled out the script. You glanced at Jaehyun’s opened book for the page number before hastily flipping through the pages. Jaehyun nudged your side. “Hey, Forky.”

“Hey yourself,” you elbowed him back, biting your bottom lip.

“Congrats, bubs. You did it,” he pulled you into a side hug before ruffling your hair with pride. You had finally gotten a part you wanted. It was your time to shine. As your best friend for many years, Jaehyun had been waiting for the day you could show the crowds your full potential.

“Did I really do it or did your girlfriend just get injured? How is she, by the way?”

As much as you tried to play the overdramatic, conceited girl, you never believed in yourself but Jaehyun always did. You deserve the spotlight; your talent was out of this world and the masses were finally granted a chance to see you for what you were— a star.

“You did this. You were made for this part as much as she was,” Jaehyun reassured his best friend with a smile. He tapped your nose. “And she’s not my girlfriend but she’s doing alright. Just in a little bit of pain. I’m going to see her after we finish.”

“Give her some well wishes for me,” you answered. Jaehyun didn’t notice your smile dropping into a small frown.

“You ready to act like you’re in love with me?”

“I was born ready, you doof.” There was something weird in your voice when those words left your lips but Jaehyun didn’t have time to process it.

Professor Lau guided the students through a series of warm-ups before asking, “Shall we start with Do I Love You Because You’re Beautiful today? We’ll do a couple of run-throughs before Jaehyun teaches you the blocking.” His fingers played the beginning notes of the song, the light melody drifting to their ears.

Already off book at this point, Jaehyun closed his eyes and began to sing.

Do I love you because you’re beautiful? Or are you beautiful because I love you?

Am I making believe I see in you A girl too lovely to be really true?

Do I want you because you’re wonderful? Or are you wonderful because I want you?

Are you the sweet invention of a lover’s dream? Or are you really as wonderful as you seem?

When his eyes fluttered open, Jaehyun found himself facing you with a script in hand. Your face wore the softest look as you stared back at him. His breath almost caught in his throat at the gentle smile you wore. You played the part differently from Naeun and it was a refreshing sight to behold. You were playing a confused peasant but your eyes still sparkled with the gleam of a thousand suns.

There was a flush of heat that started from his cheeks and extended to his reddening ears. His heart was doing its best to break out of his ribcage and the star of the show wasn’t sure if his chest could keep it in for very much longer.

When singing with him, Naeun was a pretty princess.

But when he sang with you, the girl in front of him? Jaehyun thought you were absolutely breathtaking.

Two hours later, we were finally free of rehearsals. My first rehearsal as Ella. My throat was a bit parched from all the singing and projecting I was doing but I felt lighter than air. Singing with Jaehyun made me feel lighter than air. I was weightless, nothing could hold me down.

“Forky, you’re really good,” he said to me as we walked to our cars. I tried to fight the sudden heat making its way to my face. Lately, compliments from him were hard to come by.

It was already late when O’Hare and Lau finally let us out, the moon sitting high in the sky. The night breeze crept its way into my thin jacket, causing me to hug myself to retain some warmth. Noticing my struggle with the cold, Jaehyun quickly draped his jacket over my shoulders. I was immediately hit with his familiar scent, it was almost overwhelming. I should be used to this, his action of sharing his clothes with me was nothing new but I was weak. It affected me every single time. I guess I was that head over heels for him.

Head over glass heels, one could even say.

“You’ve seen me in action before and I mean, I was chosen to be the understudy for a reason,” I gave him a shrug.

“Yeah but I’ve never seen you act and sing like that. Just...wow.” Stealing a glance at him, Jaehyun almost looked enamored with me. He was giving me a look that was usually reserved for someone else. I felt my heartbeat pick up in my chest and flutters in my stomach.

“Stop that,” I blushed, pinching his skin through the thin material of his long-sleeved shirt. A satisfying buzz ran through my body. Was he really looking at me like that? I was probably reading too much into it.

“No, but it seemed so real. Like you weren’t pretending.”

“That’s because I wasn’t,” I whispered under my breath as we arrived at our cars.

“Hmm, you say something?” Jaehyun asked, leaning closer to hear me.

Shaking my feelings away, I ignored the dull ache in my chest and acted through the tears I was desperately holding in. I wrinkled my nose at him playfully, secretly pushing the pain down my throat. “You really don’t listen to a word I say, do you, Jae? I said, I’ll see you later.”

“See ya, Forky! Get home safely!”

Scoffing to myself, I realized how much of a great actor I was. I deserved an Oscar or a Tony for the scenes I played out, the ones where I pretended to be okay when I was far from it.

What award do you ask? Best Actress in a Supporting Role— the best friend to Jung Jaehyun but never the love of his life.

Wardrobe fittings for productions were always an exciting day for the whole cast and crew. It was one step closer to putting on a show. Jaehyun was already dressed in one of his many costumes, a white suit with golden trimmings. It fit him for the most part, only tiny adjustments were needed. Members of the wardrobe department quickly pinned his neatly pressed jacket before taking it off his hands. Since he was the main character, Jaehyun was one of the first ones done. He was simply waiting for you to come out in your first dress— the white gown for the ball scene in Act One.

When you finally did all those minutes ago, Jaehyun swore his heart stopped.

Ten minutes ago, Jaehyun saw his best friend walk through the curtains. Your face was bare, hair still in that lazy style you always sported but your clothes. The comfy clothing you usually rehearsed in was gone and replaced by a beautiful ball gown. Despite the pins that scattered throughout the material to fit your form, it still appeared majestic. There you were, standing before him and the rest of the cast, and you were the loveliest you had ever been.

Ten minutes ago, you walked in and his head was reeling. Time slowed down as you tentatively made your way towards him. You did not meet his eyes but Jaehyun was dying to catch your gaze. He never wanted to let you out of his sight. The picture of his best friend in white was something he wanted to treasure and suddenly, the slowness around him stopped. The cast’s cheers and squeals disappeared. There was only you in that beautiful ball gown.

Was this the slow-motion moment you always talked about? The one you always dreamed about experiencing? Jaehyun could see why people thought it to be magic. It was almost like a movie, movie magic if you will.

Another look at you and then Jaehyun was in the future, watching you make her way down the aisle. A thin veil covered your face and he was so tempted to push it away from concealing your dazzling smile. His heart was fighting its way out of his chest, wanting to head down the path straight to you. How he wanted to reach out and touch you, cradle you in his arms.

You were truly an angel in white. A princess. A queen.

The mere sight of you took him to the skies, the one place he was sure you were from. Although Jaehyun would never admit it, he always thought you to be beautiful. Throughout the many years of being best friends, he would find his gaze subconsciously drifting to you. He would rip it away before you would ever notice him doing so, knowing you would tease the hell out of him for it— it was his own little secret tucked away into the corners of his beating heart.

“How do I look?” Your question snapped him out of his daydream and back to reality. Back down to earth.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Oh my god, you stupid spoon! I said, how do I look?”

“Lovely,” he answered sincerely, his brown eyes digging into your own. “You look absolutely lovely.”

Ten minutes ago, you simply murmured a question while Jung Jaehyun came to a realization. The realization that he might’ve fallen for you: his Forky, his best friend.

The loveliest girl he had ever seen.

With Cinderella’s opening night being only a few weeks out, you and Jaehyun decided to fit in extra time together to run lines and songs outside of scheduled rehearsals. That was the plan for every weekend and that particular Saturday was no exception to this plan. When his doorbell rang frantically, Jaehyun groaned loudly before getting up to answer the door. Did you always have to be so obnoxious?

Just as the door swung open, your loud voice boomed into his apartment, “‘Sup, ho! Ready to rehearse the hell out of this show or what?”

He stepped aside to let you in and you immediately made yourself comfortable in his humble abode. Jaehyun almost laughed as he watched you. There was a particular routine you stuck to when visiting his place. First, you would take off your shoes, slip on your personal pair of slippers you left at his house, drop your bag on the kitchen counter, and then open his fridge to raid his food supply.

Precisely as Jaehyun predicted, you waddled to the fridge in your memory-foam duck slippers and stole one of his yakults. He loved how comfortable you were in his home. It was truly a heart-warming sight. The act itself was extremely domestic and he quite liked the domesticity when it was with you. That flash of you in a wedding gown came back to him and he blushed at the thought. The idea of spending a future together was flooding his brain recently and he didn’t know what to do.

You weren’t the one he liked. Naeun was but why were you the only person on his mind? Was it wrong to have you in his mind? Naeun wasn’t his girlfriend— they were still getting to know each other. His time with her decreased over time since you had stepped into the role of Ella. He was very fond of you. He always had been. There was this little piece of his heart that was reserved for you but was it because you were his best friend or was it more?

Jaehyun quickly snapped himself out of it.

“First of all, I’m not a ho,” he said before grabbing a yakult of his own. He poked the straw through the foil a bit too harshly, the liquid splashing over the top. Damn his strength— now half of his drink was gone. “Second, stop slut-shaming me for my dating choices. It’s 2021. If I wanted to be a ho, I could be a ho.”

You rolled your eyes as you took a sip of your drink. “God, I hate you sometimes.”

“You need to stop lying to yourself, I know you’re hopelessly in love with me,” Jaehyun said, pointing his drink towards you. He caught you rolling your eyes at his answer.

“Oh, you’re absolutely right. I am irrevocably in love with you, Jung Jaehyun,” you said sarcastically, dramatically batting your eyelashes his way. Your confession, despite being a sarcastic statement, left his heart racing against time.

“Alexa, play Hopelessly Devoted to You!” you yelled ironically.

“Now playing Hopelessly Devoted to You by Olivia Newton-John,” an electronic voice boomed across his living room before the opening notes of the ballad began to play.

“Shit! I forgot you actually had an Echo,” you jumped, not expecting that at all. Jaehyun chuckled at your reaction, loving how easily you scare. He always thought it was one of your cuter traits.

“Alexa, stop!” he called.

Jaehyun ran a hand through his hair. He dragged his feet to his bedroom, knowing you would follow without a word. “I can’t rehearse today, I have to write this damned analysis paper for a class. It’s due in two days.”

“I’m sorry, is that paper more important than your best friend in the entire world?” you pushed from behind him.

“Yes,” he deadpanned, taking a seat at his desk. Jaehyun’s study area was an absolute mess. His notebooks were scattered around the floor, textbooks opened to random pages, and his laptop opened to a google document.

“That’s a motherfucking lie and you know it.”

“I really can’t rehearse now, Forky,” he sighed.

He glared at you as you theatrically fell onto his bed. The notes spread out on his bed flying to the floor. “Oh, woe is me! Jung Jaehyun cannot give me the time of day to rehearse. What am I to do?”

“Why are you like this?”

“I’m a theatre student, I’m wired to be this obnoxious,” you said with a straight face.

He stared at you through narrowed eyes. “I really hate you right now.”

“I know,” you countered with a flat tone. “But in all seriousness, Jaehyun. I won’t take too much of your time. I just wanted to practice our duets a couple of times and then I’ll be out of your hair. Plus, you look like you need a break.”

One look at you and he was a goner. How could he ever say no to his best friend?

“Ugh, fine.”

“Ha, I knew you would cave.”

“Shut up.”

The next hour with you was spent rehearsing the numbers. During the last run-through, Jaehyun suggested going over the blocking and putting their all in it. To act like it was opening night. You swiftly agreed and he played the music from the top.

Jaehyun led you around his room, spinning you across the floor as you sang. The smile on your face was so lovely, he could not take his eyes off your lips. His eyes fluttered to a close and he imagined you in your full costume, downed in your gown, as dainty as a daisy and as graceful as a bird. The thought of you dressed like a princess drove him crazy.

He never thought of Naeun this way. This was different. You were different but why?

Jaehyun opened his eyes to see you smiling so gracefully at him as the song was coming to an end. Just as planned in the show, your gaze flitted to his lips. You leaned closer and he followed, dipping his head to meet you halfway. His heart was skipping to its own beat as he inched down. Your soft lips brushed against his oh-so-gently as he held you in his arms but before the boy could press back, the door to his room swung open.

You broke away from him, shocked at the sudden arrival to see your other friend and Jaehyun’s roommate, Dejun. “Oops, was I interrupting something?”

“I, uh, I gotta go.” Before you could even stop him, Jaehyun grabbed his wallet and phone off his desk and ran out his room.

Confusion clouded his senses. Why did he feel empty after you pulled away? Why did he want to kiss you so badly? It was just a stage kiss.

Was it not?

Jaehyun’s door slammed shut behind him, leaving me and Dejun in his room. It wasn’t long before we heard the front door close, too. “Well, that was something,” Dejun said after his roommate shuffled out of the apartment.

“Shut up, Xiao Dejun,” I replied, smacking his arm.

My friend lifted his arms up in defense before he gave me a pointed stare. “I’m just saying, the two of you looked really into it. It looked great, to be honest with you. No notes to give here— I’m sure O’Hare and Lau would say the same.”

“It’s just acting,” I tried to shrug it off.

“Stop lying to yourself.”

“I’m not!”

“Bulltshit. I saw the way he looked at you— that’s not acting, twerp,” Dejun declared, his voice dropping. His voice never dipped in tone unless he was serious and in that moment, he was dead serious. My friend sounded like a frustrated tutor deliberately explaining a concept for the fifth time and I was the stubborn student who just didn’t understand.

“Yes, yes it is!”

“No, it’s not because that’s how he always looked at you!”

“Lies!” I yelled accusingly, “We got Liza Minnelli over here!”

“God, you’re so annoying sometimes! Why won’t you confess? Cat got your tongue? Nothing’s really stopped your sharp tongue before,” Dejun groaned at my stubbornness. He slapped a hand onto my shoulder. I tried to shrug him off but his grip was too strong. Maybe it was him trying to help me get a grip. Who knew? I honestly didn’t.

“It’s not like I haven’t tried, you know?” An exasperated answer left my lips. I was tired. So ridiculously tired of dealing with these feelings for my best friend. It had been four years since I fell for him. Four years of trying to see other people, four years of trying to confess, and four long years of failing every time. “I just freeze up like a deer in headlights or like you did when you performed that one monologue sophomore year in voice and movement class. Remember that, Jun?”

I felt his sharp glare burning a hole in my back. “You promised to never talk about that moment, you traitor,” he hissed, his hand squeezing the hell out of my shoulder.

“Okay yeah but you get the point, right?” My nails dug into his skin, leaving little indents onto his hand. He yelped, finally jerking his hand back to examine it. Shaking my head, I added, “Plus, he’s my best friend. I just can’t do it!”

“So, what you’re saying is that you choose friendship over the possibility of him loving you?”

“It’s just...I don’t know—” I started, shifting my body to face him, “—choosing friendship means that I’ll only lose love. But if I chose to confess and put my feelings out there, I could lose him as a potential lover and my best friend. I’m not prepared for that. I don’t think I ever will be.”

And there it was again. The self-doubt hit me, imposter syndrome resurfacing at an all time high, bringing me to the lowest of lows.

The feeling of being a fraud, of being not good enough.

For Jaehyun. For any love interest for that matter. For the role of Ella. For taking my place under the spotlight.

“Dejun?”

“Hmm?”

“Am I—am I good enough?”

“For?”

“I—I don’t know—” I stuttered as my mind was consumed by my own crippling thoughts. I tried to stay strong but the crack in my voice gave me away, “—for anything? Everything?”

“Oh, twerp,” Dejun said in that particular voice and then that was when the floodgates opened. The tears just came pouring down with no sign of stopping. My friend gently pulled me into his comforting arms. They were snug and I felt safe but not as safe as I did in Jaehyun’s hold.

“You, my darling, are definitely good enough. Don’t let your thoughts tell you otherwise.” Although his voice was comforting, it did not help the unhinged thoughts running through my brain.

“Then, why does it always hurt when I don’t get the role of the leading lady? Of his leading lady? I always get so far and then, at the end of the day, I’m just not what they’re looking for. What he’s looking for.” Pining for something so unimaginable was too taxing. Having the lead role in a play and having Jung Jaehyun wear his heart on his sleeve just for me.

“Sometimes, the roles aren’t made for you and that’s okay.”

“But what about this one?”

“This one, twerp, this one is a little different.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because there is music in you; it goes hand in hand with Jaehyun, like a melody to his harmony. You are his Ella and he’s your Topher,” Dejun urged. It was like he was begging me to not give up hope.

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m really not. You just gotta do what the theatre gods tell us to do: just trust the process.”

How could I trust the process when all it did was hurt me by allowing me to have a glimpse of a love and a life that would never be mine?

Opening night finally arrived. Everyone was called to the theatre for a full run through in the afternoon: the final dress rehearsal hours before the doors opened and the curtains were drawn. I had gotten there earlier to soak in the calmness of the empty auditorium before the chaos began.

I heard heavy footsteps come from behind me. Even without turning around, I knew it to be Jaehyun. The boy took a seat next to me on the wooden prop walls that were locked into the ground. If the stage managers and props committee saw us, they would’ve definitely ripped our heads off but they weren’t— it was just us.

“Penny for your thoughts, my dear Ella?”

“Topher,” I answered, playing along with his game. “Lovely to see you here bright at early.”

“I knew you would be here and I wanted to be here with you,” he said, pulling me into a side hug. Jaehyun knew me well but did he know me well enough? “Spill it, Forky. What’s wrong?”

“Sometimes I still doubt myself,” I said a little too fast. A loud sigh followed my reveal. The crippling doubt was always there, haunting me. Let me tell you, it was not the best thing in the world to have during an opening for a new production.

“Oh yeah?” Jaehyun asked, pushing me to continue. I felt the soft brush of his palm against my hand. His fingers grabbed hold of my wrist before fighting their way to tangle with my own fingers. The sensation tickled, taking me away from my thoughts for a fraction of a second. I played with his fingers, watching the way his pinkish hand fit with mine.

I refused to look at him; I was too afraid of breaking down.“Doubting myself, my abilities. Always the understudy, never the star, remember?”

Jaehyun hummed. He rested his chin on my shoulder. “Did something change?”

“Yeah, I finally realized that maybe it wasn’t that I wasn’t right for the part; the part wasn’t right for me,” I laughed a bit dryly. “Does that make any sense?”

“Weirdly, yes,” he replied, his breath blowing against my neck. I tried to ignore the tickling sensation and the way it made me feel.

“But this is different— I feel like I was made to play Ella. Made to play her even though I got the part in this odd, unconventional way,” I turned my head to the side to avoid eye contact. “The girl who sees the good in everything despite the hardships and suffering she went through.”

“Without a doubt, I believe that you belong on stage with me,” Jaehyun answered sincerely, “and I’m glad we have the chance to finally play opposites.”

He squeezed my smaller palm in support. I appreciated the reassurance; the action slightly calmed me down before she took the next step. Possibly the biggest step of my entire life. “There’s something else I realized, too.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Jaehyun asked softly.

Taking a deep breath, I said, “I realized that I could be right for you.”

It took him a minute, a long solid minute before Jaehyun could bring himself to respond to my confession. I wondered what he was thinking at that moment, when those words left my mouth. “Right for me?” came his tentative reply. A quick glimpse at his ears and I saw the burst of red. He was caught off guard, embarrassed.

“Yeah,” I said almost shamefully. Was I ashamed of my feelings? I never was ashamed before. Maybe it was because Jaehyun finally saw me for who I truly was— his highly dramatic best friend that was head over glass heels for him.

“How long— how long have you felt this way?” The red of his ears seeped to his rosy cheeks.

“Ever since we were a dumb pair of utensils,” I replied sincerely, my voice wavering at the truth, “a set of ridiculous tableware.”

There was an awkward chuckle that left his drying lips. I heard him click his tongue, a habit he did when Jaehyun never knew what to say. It seemed like I rendered him speechless. “Since we were sixteen? That long and you didn’t say anything?”

“You’re really asking me that?”

“Yes, I really am!”

“Jaehyun, c’mon. Use your brain! How was I supposed to? You’re my best friend and when you’re not my best friend, you’re out there chasing other girls,” I stopped to lick my drying lips. There was another inkling of silence and I gulped at how tense the atmosphere was. “And I thought maybe once, just once, you would chase after me, too.”

I almost laughed; my greatest desire was finally out in the world and it was greeted by silence.

“But what if I’m wrong for you?”

And there it was. The rejection I was preparing for. Giving him a pained smile that failed to meet my ears, I said, “Then that’s life, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Well, I can’t make you act like you’re in love with me, can I?” I snapped, my pain taking the best of me. It clouded my brain, blocking off all rational thoughts out of my head. “This isn’t a play or a movie with a script, Jaehyun. This is real fucking life.”

Hurt. I was being overwhelmed with a wave of hurt and anguish. My body was trembling as much as my eyes were. I felt them growing wet and I shut them closed. My hands curled into fists, nails digging into my skin. It stung but not as much as being rejected by the one you loved most. The lead of the movie in your mind.

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jaehyun tried to stop me from getting off the stage. I pulled away from him, quickly snatching my belongings before heading to the nearest exit. Turning back around before I left the empty auditorium, I experienced another moment in slow-motion.

There Jaehyun was in all his glory— denim jacket slipping over his broad shoulders, dark brown hair sticking up in all directions and a confused look on his face. He looked like a mess under the spotlight of my mind but nevertheless, he was my mess of a best friend.

He was my mess of a best friend and that was all he was going to be. That fact hurt more than being the forever understudy.

Why couldn’t I fast forward this portion of my life? Why must I suffer this much?

Why couldn’t I escape the role of being second best?

If only my life was a movie, then maybe I wouldn’t be everyone’s second choice. His second choice.

If we were in a movie, Jung Jaehyun would be my best friend and my perfect match. Our story would be the typical friends-to-lovers saga that every girl dreams of. It would end happily with the credits rolling to a perfectly timed soundtrack.

Too bad this wasn’t a movie— this was real life and life came with complications.

After that confrontation, you and Jaehyun were off and not off the charts— just off. The directors noticed it. The stage hands noticed. The cast noticed it. The final run-through before the curtains opened just finished and it was an absolute disaster because of the way you acted with Jaehyun. Every time he opened up his body to you, the response you gave him was closed off. Cold.

To the rest of the cast and crew, the prince and princess didn’t seem very much in love that day— they didn’t even seem friendly. You and Jaehyun seemed like two strangers trying to work their way across a stage. There was no connection. There was nothing else there.

Now, if only you would let Jaehyun talk to you, maybe something would change but you didn’t. You ran away every chance you could. It was like Cinderella, but you didn’t leave a glass slipper behind. You didn’t leave anything behind.

Less than an hour before showtime and he couldn’t even talk to you. Let alone look at you. He sighed into his hand, palms applying pressure to his eyes. Jaehyun cursed under his breath, forgetting that he had a heavy amount of stage makeup on his face. Looking into the mirror, he saw his makeup was still intact. Thank the theatre gods for the Ben Nye Final Seal Setter. It seemed like that it was the only thing set in stone at that moment.

The door to Jaehyun’s dressing room slammed open and Dejun waltzed in, fully dressed in his costume.“Dude, what was up with you and the twerp during that dress rehearsal? You were so off!”

He received no reply, Jaehyun was too zoned out to hear. Dejun hopped onto the counter of Jaehyun’s dresser. Usually, the action would shock the main lead but Jaehyun was too lost in thought.“Well, you know what they say about a bad dress rehearsal. That means we’ll have a good opening night,” Dejun said, eyeing his friend for his lack of response.

Finally looking away from his reflection, Jaehyun glanced up at Dejun with a look of disbelief. “She likes me?”

His friend jumped off the counter with widened eyes.“Oh my god, did she finally confess? Was that why you were acting weird?”

“Dejun, you knew?” Jaehyun slammed his palms on his dresser. The makeup products on the tabletop shook, leaving the other guy to wince at the show of strength.

“Honestly for being the ace of the theatre department, you sure are dumb,” Dejun replied a bit too casually as he leaned into the mirror to examine his appearance. He clicked his tongue upon realizing his cheeks didn’t have enough color. The stage lights would wash him out. The boy reached for Jaehyun’s pink blush and a clean wedge before applying it onto the apples of his cheeks.

“What should I do?”

“Well, Jaehyun, what do you want to do?” Dejun asked, turning side to side to double-check his reflection.

“I don’t know that’s why I’m asking you!” Jaehyun fired back with vigor, hating how casual his best friend was acting. He was having a before-show crisis and his best friend was calmly stealing his bottle of Ben Nye, spraying his beautifully sculpted face with the setting spray.

“Well, do you like her more than a friend? And what about Naeun?”

“Yes? No? I don’t know! But—”

“But?” His friend asked before hopping onto the countertop. The actor raised his perfectly shaped eyebrows at his friend and Jaehyun had the sudden urge to pluck the beauties they were until Dejun had no eyebrow hair left. When Jaehyun didn’t reply, Dejun repeated his question.

Dropping his head in his hands, Jaehyun hesitantly replied, “There was this moment when I saw her and it was like that thing she always said? The slo-mo thing?”

Dejun’s head perked up. “You saw her in slow motion?”

“Yeah, it was like time stopped. All I saw was her and then…” Jaehyun thought back to seeing you in a wedding dress. He changed his mind; he didn’t want to talk about his feelings. All he wanted to do was make sure opening night ran as smoothly as possible. Grabbing his white suit jacket for the top of Act One, the boy stood up in an attempt to escape his friend’s sudden peak in curiosity. “Never mind, this is ridiculous. I gotta go, Dejun.”

“No, you’re not going anywhere until you actually confront your damn feelings,” Dejun said, shoving his friend back in his chair. “Do you like Naeun?”

There was a pause before he answered truthfully: “Yes.”

“Okay, and are your feelings for Naeun stronger than what you have for your best friend?”

“No,” Jaehyun released another sigh as he leaned back in his chair. A hand reached up to brush through his hair before he remembered that it was gelled back in place. He dropped his hand to rub the back of his neck, not wanting to mess with his looks before places. “I was infatuated with Naeun but with her, god, she’s something else and it took me this long to realize it.”

“How do I know you’re not just saying that?” Dejun questioned, squeezing his friend’s shoulders a bit too tightly. Jaehyun thought his friend was testing him and for a good reason. If he was in Dejun’s position, Jaehyun would’ve grilled his friend, too. “How do I know you’re actually in love with her? Yes, you’re my roommate and best friend but she’s my best friend, too. I can’t let you hurt her if all you feel is something temporary. I can’t let you treat her like those other girls.”

“Because she’s The One, Dejun. I’m certain of it,” Jaehyun snapped back. “When I look at her, I see everything I’ve been searching for. It’s like I was blind for the longest time, you know? She was always just Forky to me back when I didn’t know any better. But now I see and all I see is her— her, with all her flaws. The way she hides her insecurities with her dramatic outbursts. How she picks at her cuticles when she’s nervous or how she always steals my food at home. And the way she just fits with me. I can’t explain it.”

Jaehyun didn’t even give his friend a chance to butt in. He was still rambling on with a fond smile, his mouth running a mile. “She’s been there with me since the beginning, Jun. Before I was this prince of the theatre department, she was there. She’s been there since the beginning and even when I was chasing after girls, she was there at the middle of it all, and fuck, I want to go all the way to the end with her.”

Dejun released his hold on his friend and rolled his eyes. The boy made his way to the door of the dressing room before mumbling under his breath, “God, what is with you two and giving out monologues? I swear, when this is all over, you should become playwrights.”

“What?”

“Never mind me, Jaehyun,” Dejun opened the door and gestured for Jaehyun to follow the path— the path down the hall that led to you. “What are you waiting for? Go get her, we have 30 until Joohyun calls for places!”

“Dejun, it’s much more complicated than that.”

“It’s only as complicated as you make it out to be. Just— just go and talk to her, yeah?”

Jaehyun sighed deeply as he reached your dressing room door. He knocked lightly, running through the lines he wanted to say in his head before you shouted a faint “come in.” The door squeaked open to reveal you, his best friend in the whole entire world, touching up your makeup. The best friend that he was inescapably in love with. You watched him through the mirror as he leaned against the frame with crossed arms.

“Can we talk after the show? There’s something I need to tell you— it’s important. I don’t think I—um, I have enough time to tell you now,” Jaehyun asked, stuttering through his words. Gone was the confidence he usually bared. The only thing left in him was a scared little boy, afraid of the problem his words may cause.

The smile he received from you did not reach your ears. “Of course,” you replied curtly before turning away from him. He noted how you were over applying your blush and fidgeting with your costume. You were doing everything in your power to avoid him.

The tugging of your ear, the biting of your lip, the picking of your cuticles. He saw all your bad habits. You were a ball of nerves and the speaker announced it was ten minutes before places.

“Hey, Forky?”

“Yes, Jaehyun?”

“You know that I believe in you, right? Always?”

There was a twitch at the corner of your lips. “I do.”

“Good,” Jaehyun approached you with caution. You watched him from your mirror, never making direct eye contact as he came closer. He dropped a kiss on the crown on your head, relishing in the way his plush lips against your torn bandana and the lace front wig. “Break a leg, my Ella.”

He observed you through your reflection and took in how beautiful you looked in your rags. You made the rags the costume department designed for you look like riches.

“Same goes to you, my prince,” he heard you answer in that soft tone. Again, you had sent him to the skies and the boy was struggling to find his way back down.

When it was time to draw the curtains and light the lights for the first performance of Cinderella, it seemed like everything fell into place. Jaehyun stared at you across the stage, falling for the way the lights illuminated your figure in that white ball gown. The bright glow brought his attention to your bright grin, that beautiful and radiant smile of yours, that shocked him to his core.

Jaehyun locked eyes with you and suddenly, he was drowning. He was drowning in your expressive eyes. He was drowning in your overflowing love.

It was different being across from you in front of a full audience. There was a rush that took over him whenever he saw you and it beat the flurries his heart experienced with his other leading ladies. As you said your lines with that bewitching sparkle in your eye, Jaehyun hated himself for not realizing how much he loved you sooner or how you were never playing pretend.

But that was okay because Jung Jaehyun loved you now. He loved you in the world you made believe on stage, where he was Prince Topher and you were his Ella, and he loved you in reality where you would always be the fork to his spoon.

Opening night went smoothly and the roaring applause I received during my final bow sent me to the moon. The way Jaehyun looked at me across the stage with eyes filled with pride and joy blasted me to places I had never been before. I became high on this feeling of being under the burning spotlights. The feeling of wearing the most intricate costume and the way his hand slid into mine for the last bow before the curtains were drawn; it was something I wanted to treasure for the rest of my life.

But with every high came a low— my low hit me when I ran into Jaehyun’s dressing room. I caught him in an embrace with Naeun who gifted my best friend with a rose. She placed a kiss on his cheek, causing his white ears to flush a deep red that rivaled the flower he held. The girl gave him a quick shove of the shoulder before heading to me.

Her congratulatory statement went in one ear and out the other. I could barely process Naeun handing me a rose of my own before she walked out of the room, the sweet scent of her perfume lingering in her wake. She gave my best friend one more lingering look as she left and it hurt me in so many ways.

“Ready to go?” Jaehyun said, clearing his throat. “Wanna stop by the stage first? Soak in your first opening night as a lead?”

“Why the hell not?” The walk back to the stage was short. It felt different somehow.

“We did it,” I whispered.

“That we did,” he answered back.

We walked onto the stage together and I could still hear the crowds cheering for me, giving me the standing ovation I earned. It was electrifying, the way the sparks ran through my body. It ran from the top of my head to the tips of my fingers and toes.

Glancing around the empty auditorium, I pondered aloud, “But do you know what sucks about it all, Jaehyun?”

“What?”

“There’s nothing worse than the feeling of not being chosen and it still hurts that I wasn’t the first choice,” I replied truthfully, “Not as much as before. But I’m learning to get over it. The casting directors saw potential in me.”

“That’s because you do have the potential to be a star. You’re practically glowing right now.” I felt his eyes trained on me, just like they were the entire time we shared the stage.

Turning abruptly to face him, I said, “You really can’t say that to me, you know?”

“And why’s that?”

“Because it makes my heart beat against my chest and these stupid butterflies come around before I remember that you have never chosen me to be your first choice,” I glared.

“But I do choose you,” Jaehyun pushed, his voice laced with desperation, “That’s what I was trying to tell you before you stormed off on me earlier!”

“Are you really choosing me, Jaehyun? The real me? The me that has been your best friend for years? Or are you choosing the me that shares a stage with you every night? The me that could potentially be your next whirlwind romance?” No matter how desperate he sounded, he couldn’t beat the hopelessness that was dripping from my own voice.

“No, that’s not it at all!” his voice boomed, the sound echoing throughout the empty auditorium.

“Then, what is it, Jung Jaehyun? Because I am tired of being second best and I’m tired of not being chosen,” I almost cried. The anguish was just taking over my body and I couldn’t make it stop. “Yes, I know some parts are not right for me but I can’t help but be hurt. And then you say that you’re choosing me? Of course, I’m going to think of it being because I’m your newest love interest on stage.”

“If you could just listen—”

Unable to stop the words from coming out, I just kept running off at the mouth. Everything I wanted to say to Jaehyun was flying out of my lips at rapid speed; I couldn’t even stop it. “I have seen you in slow motion so many times and I want to just fast forward from those moments. To speed past them so I can move on from the idea of not being yours. I refuse to be a temporary love that you lose interest in. I just want you to pick me, to choose me, and to love me, damn it— is that too fucking much to ask for? To be chosen and loved?”

While I was taking a breath to continue with my rant, Jaehyun cut me off and the words he said rattled the stage, the ground beneath my feet, and my whole entire world.“No, it’s not and you are way fucking more than that, if you just take a moment out of your godforsaken monologue and listen to me! I choose you not because you’re my leading lady but because you’re you. You’ve always been this— this incredible, breathtaking you.”

He took one step closer and I took one step back. “And you’ve the person at my side when no one else is.”

Every single time I would retreat, Jaehyun would follow. The boy was persistent, his brown eyes trained on me. “The one who figured out you loved me first while I was too blind to see it. You’re the fork to my spoon. We’re a set, we go together. And I was too dumb to figure out that at the end of the day, I always think about you and how no one I’ve ever been with compares to you.”

When my back hit the wall, I was trapped. Trapped in between his arms and the way they propped themselves on either side of my face. Trapped in the haze of his brown eyes and how they dug deep into my soul.

“I don’t see you in slow motion— I see you in fast forward. I see you in the future, my future, walking down the aisle in white and I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. All I know is that I choose you. I will always choose you.”

I was trapped by Jung Jaehyun and there was no escape for me. Judging by the way his eyes never let me out of his sight, there was a chance my friend didn’t want to let me go either. He wanted me to stay.

“Jaehyun, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I love you. You’re my beginning, middle, and my end.”

“You love me? Like you’re in love with me?” Jaehyun heard you ask, like the possibility of being loved by him was so impossible. You were searching for any inkling of doubt but he made sure you couldn’t find any because you were the only thing he could see.

Jaehyun brought a hand near your cheek. It hovered there as he hesitated to touch it to your skin until you leaned into his touch. Your cheek felt so warm in his palm and it was so comforting to have you in his hold. “I wanted to say it earlier but I was just so scared of losing you as both a lover and a friend because what if it all goes to shit? What if we go to shit and things hit the fan? I can’t lose you.”

“But you, Jung Jaehyun, are in love with me?” you repeated as your hand cupped his own. The smile you gave him was bright enough to light up the stage.

“Yeah, I thought I made that clear. I’m sorry, did I mumble that line?” he teased playfully, trying to coerce a giggle out of you. “Should I start the scene over?”

“No, no. I’m just—” you paused and he watched you recollect your thoughts. His glittering brown eyes were trained on you as the words processed in your head. “You love me,” you laughed in disbelief.

Jaehyun took a step closer, his hand tentatively reaching out to stroke your face. He sighed in relief as you relaxed into his touch. “You’re my number one girl. I choose you.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that even after all this time, I’ve always chosen you, too.”

Once those words left your lips, he couldn’t hold himself back. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Jaehyun pulled you against his chest and smashed his lips against yours. Yes, he had kissed you on multiple occasions prior to this— onstage and off— but this time was different than the rest.

This was the first time he really kissed you after your feelings were out in the open.

The first time he kissed you and finally felt the love you harbored for so many years. Jaehyun just hoped you could sense the love he was pouring out for you, too.

He did not want to let you go but he was struggling to breathe. You were so lovely, everything about you was so incredibly lovely, and to have you in his arms was the best feeling in the universe. Everything around him turned dark and he felt the warmth of a spotlight and the flush of your body against him. The entire world was spinning beneath his feet, his heart racing, and his lips chasing you and only you.

Jaehyun did not understand why people did drugs— the high of being so ardently in love with another person, with you, gave him the high that he needed.

He felt you hit his chest in an attempt to end the kiss but Jaehyun did not want to stop. A light shove to his shoulders was enough to separate his lips from yours and what a sight you were— chest panting heavily for air, lips plumped and swollen, and the prettiest set of eyes widened in shock.

“You kissed me!” you said in between pants. “Like not a stage kiss but you actually kissed me!”

“That I did, love,” Jaehyun replied cheekily, taking another step towards you. You stepped back to lean against the wall but did nothing to stop him from coming forward. “Are you gonna do something about it?”

The look in your eyes changed after you heard his new nickname for you. It was coy. Flirty. Challenging. “Do it again, I dare you,” you whispered a bit too loudly.

Before Jaehyun closed the distance, his eyebrow perked up at the challenge. “Gladly.”

Senior year was there before we knew it.

Another year, another posting day.

Dejun, Jaehyun, and I swiftly made our way down the hall to the front of the theatre department, curious to find out which roles we were given. The spring production and the final musical of our college career was Disney’s Beauty and the Beast.

Callbacks for Belle went as smooth as ever— the chemistry between Jaehyun and I were off the charts. But why wouldn’t they be? We were together now.

Just like any other time, the crowds gathering around the cast list and bulletin board parted immediately once they caught a glimpse of Jaehyun approaching. The only difference was that this time, he was tightly clutching my hand.

When we arrived in front of the board, I shut my eyes before I could read the cast list. An anxious buzz flowed through my veins, tickling the tips of my fingers and toes. My boyfriend must’ve felt the twitching of my fingers or the sweat dripping off my palms.

I felt his body shift towards me. “Want me to take a peek first, love?” Jaehyun asked as he pressed his plump lips onto the crown of my head. He nuzzled his nose into my hair, a small but sweet action that always comforted me.

Shaking my head, I looked at him and said, “No, why don’t we look together?”

“On three?” he grinned lovingly.

“On three, you dumb spoon.”

The countdown was quick but the glance I took at the cast list was even quicker. It was so quick, I almost didn’t catch who was put into the role of Belle. Taking a double take, I let go of Jaehyun’s hand as my eyes zeroed in onto the tiny print.

Everything around me came to a stop as I read and re-read the cast list. Everyone around me was celebrating their parts but I couldn’t hear them, they were all muted in my mind. All I could hear was the sound of my own breaths and all I could see my name on the top of the page.

Belle……………..Y/N The Beast……..Jung Jaehyun

“Oh my god, I got the part,” I whispered to no one in particular. Backing away from the board, I repeated the same words a little louder and it got the attention of everyone surrounding me. Before I knew it, everyone threw a congratulations my way. The cheers were loud and obnoxious but they were for me because I did it. I finally did it.

Feeling a little overwhelmed, I backed away from the blustering crowd before bumping into my boyfriend’s firm chest. Jaehyun caught me in his hold, his arms circling around my waist. He dropped his chin on my shoulder and placed a tender kiss on my temple. “Would you look at that? We’re not a ridiculous set of tableware this time.”

“No disrespect to those parts, they were awesome, but I think I like this a lot more,” I giggled, turning in his hold.

As I circled my arms around his neck, he whispered, “Same here.”

I yanked him down into an earth-shattering kiss that sent the world spinning beneath my feet. It slowed down, speeded up, and it did everything in between. I saw flashes of yellow ball gowns, royal blue coats, and Jaehyun smiling at me gracefully across the stage.

Jaehyun staring me down from the other end of an altar.

I saw it all.

If my life was a movie, then this would be the time that the screen would fade to black and show the names. Some overly poppy song would resonate through the speakers and everyone would get up from their seats and gush over the happy ending.

But it wasn’t. My life was as real as it could be and it was even better than any romantic-comedy that would ever grace the screen.

This wasn’t the ending.

This was the perfect beginning.

AUTHOR’S NOTE. hello, my darling readers! you really didn’t have to wait that long for this release, did you? a big thank you to several people: @johtenrecs for always being my beta and for the helpful feedback, to my chaotic gc ( @smoll-tangerine, @ppangjae, @jaedore, and @jeongvision) for listening to me complain about how i was losing it while writing this fic, to @suhpressed for helping me with brainstorm, and lastly, to my lovely @notnctu bc without her and our crazy idea of hosting a hannah montana collab, i wouldn’t have gotten this idea! love y’all! hope you enjoyed this and please leave feedback! uwu

TAGLIST. @yasmini24 @jaehyunnie77 @emmybyeakitty @fluffyjaes @aevizen @dearjaehyxn @yourmagnanimousholiness @jaehyvnsvalentine @keemburley @softieus @lanadreamie @lebrookestore @notmangojuice @felixn-recs @captainsjoongs @anotherfullsun @ukiyoneo @kunrengui @babyyynatty

#nctsworldfwc #neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct scenarios #nct fic #nct imagines #nct x you #jung jaehyun #jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x you #jaehyun fic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst

1K notes · View notes

ikeromantic · 2 years ago

Text

Enemy at the Gates

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction. This scene is set well after the events of the romantic epilogue and features Mitsuhide and MC in a modern setting extended story. Approx. 2600 words.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Cold Comforts

Mitsuhide looked up at the tall building. It stood higher than the tenshu in Azuchi, higher than most of the buildings around it. There were guards at the door and cameras. An electronic entry key that could only be opened from scanning the hand. The edifice was mostly glass, but not like the glass he knew from the Sengoku. This was thick. Shatter-resistant, made to withstand the tanegashima of this era.

“We could run a car into it,” Daiki spoke up from beside him. “Bet they wouldn’t see that coming.”

Itsuko snorted. “And announce our presence to everyone in the building? We wouldn’t manage two floors before they shut us down. Buildings like this have lock and alarm protocols.”

Souta’s brows went up. “How would you know that?”

“My dad worked security on a place like this in Tokyo. Research firm. The whole place could shut down in 30 seconds if the right alarm sequence triggered.” Itsuko shrugged. “Didn’t do them a damn bit of good when pops smuggled data out on a thumb drive.”

“Thumb . . . drive?” Mitsuhide tried to imagine what that might be before he decided it didn’t matter. They weren’t trying to get information out. They needed to get themselves in.

“You sure this is our guy,” Daiki asked. “I mean, if it’s not, we are gonna go through a lot for nothing.”

“Please. Even if I was wrong, you wouldn’t mind doing some damage. But I’m not wrong.” Souta gave his friend a hard look. “I wouldn’t drag the boss out here if I had any doubt.”

“I’m not your boss,” Mitsuhide sighed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. There was always a weakness in any fortification. A drain, a smoke vent, a forgotten gate . . . he couldn’t imagine that was untrue here. They simply needed to find it.

“The boss is right. He’s not our boss. He’s our uh, daimyo? Something like that?” Daiki smiled widely.

Souta snorted. “Right. Anyway, I don’t think a frontal assault is the way to go.”

Mitsuhide nodded. “We need a quiet way in. Who would have access to this place?”

“The people who work there,” Itsuko said. “Probably a cleaning crew. The security detail. Repairmen. A place like this probably has something go wrong every week so, electricians, plumbers, IT. Skilled labor.”

“Daiki, you will look into the security company. Pretend to apply. Itsuko? I want you to research their skilled labor. Uniforms, badges . . . who are they and how are they recognized. And Souta, you will find out about the staff. Do you think you could get hired here? Legitimate entry is the easiest.” Mitsuhide gave the orders, plans already coming together in his mind. The arching branches of each possibility taking shape. But he needed more information.

“I could probably get in as IT support.” Souta shrugged. “I’ll poke around. Maybe I can make myself an intern.”

“Excellent. I expect -” Mitsuhide’s words cut off as he glimpsed a familiar form moving through the crowd at the crosswalk. Her hair was loose, her back bared between the ties of her shirt. Her hips hugged by taut denim.

She must have felt his eyes on her. The woman turned her head, just for a moment. But a glimpse of her face brought the kitsune warlord back to reality. Of course it wasn’t his little mouse. She was still in the hospital. Unconscious. And now that he really looked, this girl didn’t resemble her so much. A similar figure, perhaps, in a general way.

“Boss?” Daiki grimaced.

“I thought I saw someone.” Mitsuhide cleared his throat. “I expect you all to have more information for me by this time tomorrow.”

The three young men all nodded and then dispersed, leaving him alone on the sidewalk.

Mitsuhide’s gaze drifted to where the woman had been. He was not the kind of man to mistake one person for another. He could read body language like words on a page. He knew his little one in every way. Every dimple and freckle and beauty mark. The way she moved her arms when she walked. The set of her shoulders. That funny way she’d tilt her head when she saw something she liked. She had a thousand different expressions and he knew each one. Loved each one. She was precious. Unique.

He shook off the unease his mistake engendered. There was no time to reminisce or recriminate. He had work to be about. There was a man on the 35th floor of this building that needed to understand the cost of crossing an Akechi.

He straightened his tie and approached the entrance. “Akechi Jūbei,” he gave a nod to the security detail at the door. It was a name less infamous but still his own.

“You’re not on the list,” one of the men said after a pause.

“Yes. That’s correct. I didn’t want word of my interest to spread before I spoke with Mr. Tanaka.” He held out a business card with a single kanji on it. If Souta was wrong about this . . .

The security guard examined the card carefully then handed it back. “You may go up.”

The door clicked open and Mitsuhide entered. A blast of cold dry air met him, and then the beeping of a metal detector. A young, expressionless woman gave him a bow in greeting. “You will follow me.”

Mitsuhide nodded. “Please, do lead on. You’re so much nicer to look at than the gorillas out front.”

She glanced his direction, giving nothing away. Then she gestured for him to move forward.

He did, at his own pace, taking time to note the layout and security features of the lobby. It looked like any number of television serials he’d watched since coming here. All metal and glass and smooth edges. The sheen of blue screens. Muted music playing from hidden speakers. The smell of disinfectant.

There was a long desk in dark wood where two more women sat. They looked so similar to his guide that they might have been sisters, but Mitsuhide realized the impression was intentional. The basic features were not too far from each other. Similar eyes, hair styles, make up. But they could not disguise the differences in bone structure. The length of their noses, the height of their foreheads. What a strange thing to attempt though. Why?

Mitsuhide nodded toward the desk. “I didn’t realize you had sisters. How fortuitous to work in the same place together!”

She made a noncommittal sound of acknowledgement.

Her ability to shut down every line of conversation was purely remarkable. But she’d never encountered someone like him. He could take information from bare stone. From wind-touched water. From dead men. He could get information from her.

“You must be quite skilled,” he said, as they moved further down the bland hallway. “You move with such grace and efficiency. A dancer perhaps? Or no . . . I see fire in you. Perhaps, martial arts?” Mitsuhide made as if to reach for her.

She moved swiftly, a slight step just far enough to put herself out of reach. “Please keep your hands to yourself.”

“Of course. My deepest apologies. It’s just, you have a hair on your blouse.”

She looked down, plucking it away with a twitch of her lips.

“Don’t worry,” he said conspiratorially, “I like dogs too.”

This, finally, brought a reaction. She smiled, an almost imperceptible curve to her lips. “Beni is a good boy but he sheds everywhere.”

A weakness in every fortress, he thought. “My Chimaki is the same. You can’t pet her without taking a coat of fur for yourself. But I would not trade her for anything.” He smiled brightly, his burnished golden eyes fixed on his target. “What is it you like best about dogs, miss . . .?”

“Call me Ana. And, I suppose I like their loyalty. They never question you, even when you are cross with them. They trust you. Not like people at all.”

Mitsuhide nodded. “Yes, exactly that Miss Ana. Exactly that. I wish more people had that kind of trust.”

He encouraged her to prattle on about Beni, putting together an idea of where she must live based on what she told him about the dog. Ana took him to a dog park and a groomer nearby. She even showed him pictures, and he noted the landmarks and visible signs.

They entered an elevator and she flipped open a hidden console, trying to hide her gesture. Still, he caught it. Then she covered her movements with her body as she hit a sequence of keys to allow access to Tanaka’s office floor. Mitsushide paid attention to the position of her elbow, the twitch of muscle under the thin cloth of her shirt. He couldn’t say for sure what she touched, but it was top-top- bottom-mid-top. He thought he could puzzle it out with access to the entry pad.

“Maybe we can have a playdate for Beni and Chimaki,” he ventured.

She turned a sudden, cold gaze his direction. “I don’t mix work and pleasure.”

“Ah, of course not. My apologies for being so forward. I was caught up in thinking about my precious pup. She loves making new friends. But I should not be so careless.” He bowed to her.

“It’s . . . fine. We will forget you said it,” she told him after a moment. Then, “When we arrive at the office, you will remove your shoes. You will keep your head down. Do not speak to the employees at their desks. Do not interrupt their work. I will take you to the waiting room for unexpected guests. Sit there until you are called. Do you understand?”

She was all business again. The brief humanity he’d seen in her snuffed out by cold, corporate regulation.

Mitsuhide made his assent. He had no intention of stirring trouble today. He just needed to see the space and to build a better idea of his enemy. Just as Ana had her weakness, so must this Tanaka.

***

Sasuke felt nervous. Every new face that regarded him a moment longer than necessary was a potential enemy. He missed his ninja gear. His face mask. The anonymity he’d taken for granted as he crept over rooftops and along ceiling beams 500 years ago. Sitting here, in a hospital waiting room, felt intolerably vulnerable.

Yet he had no better option for guarding his friend. She was still unconscious, helpless against any attack. Mitsuhide and his acolytes were out looking for evidence and Miyake was with the chatelaine’s parents as they returned to work and home. That left just him. And while he might have crawled through a vent to watch from above, or hidden himself in the ceiling tiles, neither option was as practical as watching from a chair in the small lobby of the burn unit.

He stood and stretched, and walked to her window. The smoke-stained wedding gown was still draped over a stool inside. It was beautiful, even marred by the fire. Sasuke would have liked to see her in it. She deserved some happiness. All of it, really. She was the woman that saved his life. He owed her. But it was more than that too.

Sasuke took a breath. He wished he knew more about biological sciences. Anatomy. Physiology. Neurochemistry. Not that he regretted his choice to study astrophysics. That was what led him to the past. To Kenshin and Shingen, and his BFF Yukimura. But . . . his hand curled into a loose fist at his side.

What would they do if the wormhole came and she was still here, in her hospital bed? Comatose. They couldn’t even ask what she would want. Sasuke could not imagine that she would let Mitsuhide stay here, uncertain whether or not they could ever go back. But losing him would tear her apart.

That couldn’t be allowed to happen. Which meant just one thing. “You have to wake up,” he whispered.

A door clanged open behind him and the ninja startled. A doctor stood in the doorway. Or at least, a man in a white coat. He didn’t look like any doctor Sasuke saw before. He was blind in his left eye, the milky cataract gleamed in the fluorescent light, and scarred. A thin line ran from his cheek across his lip and chin, and one of his ears was ragged, missing the top half.

Sasuke pretended to look back into the treatment room, but kept the scarred doctor in his peripheral vision.

The doctor scanned the doors, and them walked straight to hers, pulling the tablet from its perch. He tapped a few times and nodded to himself. Then he looked up from it, his one eye focused on Sasuke.

“You family?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you the patient’s family?”

Sasuke shook his head. “No, I’m just a friend. But I’m keeping an eye on her until her parents can come back.”

His scar stretched and gleamed as the scarred doctor smiled. “Isn’t that nice of you. But only family is allowed in this waiting room. You’ll need to head down to the main lobby. You can wait there.”

“I can’t.” Sasuke was beginning to feel distinctly uneasy. “Her doctor indicated there was no reason she could not have guests or friends, as long as we don’t interfere with the nurses’ work.”

“Well. I’m her doctor now. And I decided for her safety, family only.” He gestured toward the door. “So please, don’t make a scene.”

The ninja’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t aware there was a change in her care. What was your name, Doctor?”

“You can call me Doctor Smith. And you wouldn’t have been told because, as I said, you aren’t family.”

“That’s fine. I’ll just take a moment at the nurse’s station, and if they confirm, I will do as you ask.” Sasuke took a step toward the hall.

Doctor ‘Smith’ moved to block him. “You can ask in the main lobby.”

“Or I can ask here.” Sasuke’s lips curved in a slight smile. “There’s no rule about that.”

The man’s hand came at him blindingly fast. A strike that would have clamped his carotid artery and left him knocked out in ten seconds or less.

But Sasuke was no ordinary research scientist. His Sengoku-trained reflexes had him blocking the strike. He stepped in close and jammed his elbow into the scarred man’s solar plexus.

That his should have sent him wheezing, but Smith barely made a sound. His knee came up and slammed into Sasuke’s thigh. His fist was moving for the ninja’s face a beat later.

Sasuke let his weight shift back to his other leg and smoothly ducked the punch. His fist took Smith in the kidney. It felt like hitting a rock.

The scarred doctor hissed and retreated, a hand going to his side. He glanced around, and then hurried out a side door. His retreating footsteps echoed down the hall.

It was hard not to chase after him. Sasuke didn’t like leaving a threat like Smith able to waltz back in whenever he liked. And he wanted to know why the scarred man was there. Murder? Kidnapping? Or something the ninja hadn’t considered.

He sent a quick text to Mitsuhide and Miyake, then he sidled into the chatelaine’s room.

She slept on, oblivious to the drama.

Sasuke sat in a chair beside the bed and reached for her hand. He squeezed it gently. “I may not be a legendary warlord, but I am your friend. And I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She didn’t stir at his words or his touch, but he liked to think some part of her heard him and understood.

Next: Playing His Part

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #ikesen sasuke #sasuke sarutobi #fanfiction #fanfic #otome #otome guys #drama

36 notes · View notes

violetwolfraven · 4 years ago

Text

I don’t know how canon-compliant this is but imagine 8-year-old Katherine Pulitzer in the waiting room of the New York Sun because her father wanted to pretend he likes spending time with her or something and in walks a reporter.

And Katherine looks up all excited because she wrote an article and she wants her father to read it only it’s not her father so she’s disappointed.

And the reporter asks, “what’s wrong?” cause when you see a sad little girl you be nice to her.

And Katherine is not stupid. She knows most people don’t think girls can write good. She knows some can’t, but she can, and she knows this man might not think she can.

So she holds her article where he can’t read it and says, “My father won’t read my article. He doesn’t believe me that it’s good but girls can write just as good as boys and if you don’t believe me you’re wrong.”

And the reporter just goes, “You are absolutely right. Girls can write just as good as boys. May I see your article, young lady?”

Katherine is kind of in shock because nobody has ever agreed with her about this but she hands this nice reporter her article.

He corrects a couple spelling mistakes and gives her some pointers on making wording a little more catchy but overall he doesn’t have much to say to her because she’s right. She’s good. Her writing is better than some of the stuff he’s seen from cub reporters.

And Katherine looks up at him and her eyes are shining and she goes, “Can you come back tomorrow and teach me to write really good?”

“Unfortunately,” he tells her, “I’m leaving tonight for a very important job far away. But why don’t you keep writing and have something really good to show me when I come back?”

And over and over people tell Katherine to stop. They tell her she’ll never make it, that she’s not good enough, that a girl can’t be a reporter.

But she never believes them because once, a long time ago, one person believed in her. And she knows that she could have gotten where she is with or without that, but without that one reporter’s word, she might not have had the courage to try.

And then Katherine finds a new family full of people who believe in her as much as she’s had to believe in herself but sometimes she still thinks about that reporter because she doesn’t know his name but she never forgot his face. Sometimes she wonders where he is and what that big job was.

Then not long after the strike Bryan Denton comes back to New York and finds a young woman has taken his spot as the city’s #1 reporter and to be honest he’s a little pissed he got replaced but he comes into the office to meet her and

And it’s a red-haired young woman maybe 18 years old who’s looking at him like she’s seen a ghost.

She pulls out an article that says in big letters ‘The Newsies Banner’ at the top.

“Thank you for believing in me,” she says, “I might not have kept writing if you didn’t tell me I should. I wrote something really good if you want to see it.”

Honestly, Katherine Plumber is the best reporter Denton has ever seen. Her writing is better than his and he can admit it, so if he has to be New York’s #2, there’s no one he’d rather be behind.

#newsies #livesies #1992sies #1992 newsies #newsies the broadway musical #katherine plumber pulitzer #katherine plumber #katherine pulitzer #bryan denton #violet’s writing

238 notes · View notes

asavt · 4 years ago

Text

Memory

By: Notebook

‘HOW?! How is this short wannabe plumber this strong?!’

Scissors thought as the mustache thorn landed another deafening blow with his hammer.

Slamming the duel-bladed duelist to the ground.

Blood dripped from their brow as they struggled to get back up.

‘Get up. Get up!,’ Scissors repeated in their mind as they floated up to a somewhat standing position.

Their arms barely able to hold their scissors, and their blades cracked and chipped to the point of breaking apart.

‘I have to win. I have to win. I have to win. I have to win. I have to win!’

At this point, Scissors couldn’t care less about guarding the green streamer.

They wanted revenge. Revenge for their comrades, revenge for saving the toads, defying his majesty, but most of all they wanted revenge for Tape.

The one they loved more than anything else in the whole world, and the one they let be destroyed by the Princess and the mustache thorn.

They slashed the red menace with their least damaged blade, only for him to jump and dodge their attack.

Next thing Scissors knows, the thousand folded-arms were activated and a flurry of hits fell upon the duelist.

Pain.

All they felt was pain as their vision began to slowly fade.

Their mind filled with the thoughts of the one who guarded the purple streamer. The one who kept them warm at night, and the one whose last words to them was “I love you.“

Words that they never returned.

Regret fills their heart, as their vision finally fades to black.

'Huh? Where am I?,’ was Scissors first thought when they finally opened their eyes.

They were in a white void with the green streamer next to them. A streamer that was disintegrating in green confetti.

It didn’t take long for Scissors to realize the same thing was happening to them when they saw their legs disintegrating, from the bottom up, into green confetti.

"Scissors? Is… that…you?” A weakened voice said which startled Scissors like no tomorrow.

Scissors quickly turned towards the source of the voice and found Tape.

Their purple streamer nearly disintegrated completely, as well as their body.

Scissors reached out and grabbed Tape’s hand. Who was barely able to lift their own hand.

“I… guess…they… got ..you… too.”

“Tape! Tape! Hold on!" 'Just a bit longer. Please’

As Scissors brought Tape closer to them, they nuzzled each other’s forehead while their hands clasped together.

Tears, or so Scissors thought, ran down both their cheeks. Tape, too weak to even speak, smiles at Scissors one last time.

A few moments later, Tape disappeared into purple confetti right in front of the Scissors.

All Scissors could do was scream as the last of the purple streamer disintegrated into nothingness.

Soon, they see their own streamer disintegrate along with their body into green confetti.

Scissors didn’t even try to fight the disintegration as their entire body and streamer turned into nothingness.

———————————————————————————————————————

Voices, they can hear voices.

Five voices in total.

Two of the voices leave them with disgust for some reason, one they don’t seem to trust, another that they don’t recognize at all and the last voice brings them some sort of comfort, as well as the only voice they are willing to listen to.

One of the voices they can’t tolerate, like at all, is talking about how they had to fight living objects, the Legion of Stationary, to destroy the streamers.

Streamers? Legion of Stationary? What’s going on? Who are these people?

Wait a minute…How come they can’t remember anything? Why are they in a black void, that is surprisingly comfortable? Why do they feel they are not alone? What’s going on?

Wait, now they’re talking about how the Legion of Stationary was brought to life by King Olly with his magic, and how he and Olivia had to defeat Olly to prevent the extinction of the toads.

The Legion of Stationary were his generals and were sent to guard the streamers. When they defeated them, the Legion were turned back into their respective office supply and put in a cardboard box.

Ok, so are they talking about them? Are they in a box? Are they the Legion of Stationary?

As the annoying, grating voice continues to talk, they begin to understand what’s going on.

They were the Legion of Stationary and after Mario and Olivia, the sister of his majesty defeated them Mario took them and stuffed them in a cardboard box.

They then left them in said box, in the closet, for a few months until the Craftsmen folded King Olly and his sister Olivia again.

They do not know the reason their King hated the Craftsmen so much, but for whatever the reason might be, the Craftsmen is one of the voices they just can not tolerate at all. Even less so than Mario, the one that defeated them.

So when Mario gave the Craftsmen the cardboard box, they were not happy. However, King Olly, the sole voice that they don’t mind listening to, is coming with the Craftsmen and Olivia so it might be so bad.

Although, the Craftsmen has another thing coming if he thinks he can use them willy nilly.

———————————————————————

“Huh? Why can’t I open it?”

The Craftsmen, with all his might, tries to open the colored pencils only to fail. Did someone superglue the case shut, or is it just stuck? Or does he need to go to the gym that badly?

Accepting defeat, the Craftsmen puts down the case and looks at his other art supplies. For the past few days, he tried and failed in trying to use the origami tools Mario gave back to him.

From the scissors unable to cut even a piece of paper to the stapler not stapling, the tape not sticking, the hole punch jamming, and even the rubber bands rolling off the paper rolls.

Did he get that rusty?

Just as the Craftsmen was about to give up, Olly came knocking into his workshop.

“Hey. Do you mind if we use your art supplies for a bit?”

The Craftsmen gave Olly a weak smile before giving Olly all the origami supplies in a box.

“Sure, knock yourself out. Though, I should warn you. They don’t work as they used to,” said the Craftsmen.

“Ah, I see. Thank you, Mr. Craftsmen,” Olly said before heading into the living to create art with his sister, while the Craftsmen went into the kitchen to make sandwiches.

Just as he was about to enter the kitchen, he saw Olly easily open the colored pencil case. He gives a few pencils to Olivia before using some of the pencils himself. It wasn’t before long that the other origami tools were used by Olly with ease.

The hole punch didn’t jam whatsoever. The scissors cut everything like it’s made of butter. The tape stuck to everything it was supposed to. The stapler was stapled away and the rubber bands didn’t roll down or ruin the paper rolls.

It took the Craftsmen a second before realizing what was happening.

‘Stupid, stubborn art supplies.’

—————————————————————————-

Darkness.

All there was darkness until it was replaced by a white void. They looked around said void only to find they were alone.

When they look down upon themselves, they could see only a faint outline of what they think is their body.

Soon the white void started to gain some light colors and a purple streamer appeared out of nowhere and wrapped around them.

This magic, it felt familiar, was it King Olly’s magic?

Soon the purple streamer wrapped around them completely and everything went black.

‘Ughh. Who’s hugging me? They’re way too close,’ thought Tape as he tried to push away whoever was trying to hug him. They were not successful until a loud gasp caused Tape’s to sit up and open their eyes.

When Tape looks around at his surroundings he finds himself surrounded by his fellow Legion as well as King Olly.

It was also then when Tape found out who was hugging him. It was the guard of the green streamer Scissors who was for some reason hugging Tape.

“Oh, It’s just the King,” Scissors says as they lay on Tape to continue their nap and for some reason, Tape didn’t seem to mind one bit.

=================

To the person who wrote this: You just left me wordless, I love this, a lot, thank you, I’ve smiled like an idiot, it’s just *cheff kiss* perfect

This made me so happy…. Gotta put some warning for some people, but god, GOD, I love this….

#submission #fanterature #character dead #but they revive #pmtok #origami king #scissors #tape #scistape #origami craftman #olly #olivia #mario #you got me like...#ahhh #AHHHHH #this is so nice ;;;;;;#thank you lots

47 notes · View notes

goalieprotectionsquad · 4 years ago

Text

so i’ve watched like three straight days of maine cabin masters and my idiot ass is thinking of the harringtons having a cute little cabin on a lake in maine where they went every summer as a family before his dad started making bank and didn’t have the time anymore.

it’s been seventeen years since steve’s been up there. he doesn’t live at home anymore. he has a job that doesn’t really make him happy, but doesn’t really make him miserable, either. he has plenty of savings from the government coverup but doesn’t have anywhere to go with it. nothing to spend it on. the kids get older. they leave for college. he’s in his mid-twenties and complacent and isn’t all that motivated to change anything.

he gets dinner with his parents when they’re in town in the spring. his mom is talking about a lodge they stayed in when they visited basque country over christmas and he suddenly remembers the cabin. he waits until his mom is done relaying unimportant details like the color of the drape tassels to ask his dad if they still have the cabin in maine, and it’s evident on his face that he’d forgotten about it, too. he looks sort of wistful for a moment but it passes quickly. yeah, they still own it. no, nobody’s been up there in a while. steve doesn’t really think before he’s saying, “can I take a trip up there?”

his parents stare at him for a second like they’re surprised he’s actually interested in doing something, which. not unfair. his dad can’t remember where he put the keys but gives steve the address and tells him to find a locksmith who can get him inside. (steve plans on elbowing through a window or something to save on time and the hassle).

he subleases his apartment and leaves. everyone he likes is either away at school or just. away. moving on with their lives. he doesn’t have anyone to say goodbye to beyond telling his boss he’s quitting.

it takes a while to get up there, but he does, eventually. the cabin is hard to find and it looks so bad on the outside that steve has to triple check the address on the adjacent cabins to make sure it’s the right place. he thinks it’s maybe not just him who hasn’t been here in almost twenty years.

he stays in a hotel and gets up early to meet the contractor. she looks like she’s holding in a laugh when she introduces herself as kali. “look,” she says. “I’m going to be straight with you. this place is literally falling apart.”

steve doesn’t know what to say so he says, “yeah.”

“we can do a walkthrough,” she continues, “but I guarantee that this is going to make your budget look like pocket change.”

steve doesn’t really want to say it’s his dad’s money, so he shrugs and says, “let’s do it,” and watches her pick the lock.

the foundation is rotted out. the floor is rotted out. the porch is rotted out. she points at things and says any variety of that has to go or we’d start by taking that out or when was the last time you were up here again? they need to hire a plumber and a landscaper and an electrician and probably an exterminator, too, and kali doesn’t say anything when she watches him write a check for half the amount she quotes. she gives him a calculating look with kohl-rimmed eyes and says, “all right. we’ll be here tomorrow morning.”

steve shows up at seven because he doesn’t have anything better to do and there’s already a truck parked outside. a tall guy with a beanie shoved low over his forehead is tearing the porch off the front of the house and steve goes over to him and tries not to get hit with any falling debris.

“hi,” he says and has to stand there a minute before the guy looks at him. “I’m steve. is kali around?”

she’s inside the cabin and is leaning over the sink when steve walks in. she yells no. no. no. out the open window to her right as the water continues to run and then yes that’s it we got it as it cuts off abruptly. she looks unsurprised when she turns around and sees him standing in the doorway.

“hi,” he says again. “I’m here to help.”

“you’re paying us to do this for you, you know,” she says, but something in her face makes steve feel like she gets it.

a guy with his hair pulled into a tight bun at the nape of his neck hoists himself through the front door from where the porch used to be. “hey,” he says, all silk, when he sees steve.

“billy, this is steve harrington. the homeowner.” she stresses the word enough that steve literally cannot not notice the emphasis. billy rolls his eyes and shakes steve’s hand. it’s rough with calluses and steve would be stupid not to think about what that would feel like on his skin.

“billy hargrove,” he says. “head carpenter.”

“steve’s here to help with demo,” kali says.

“well,” billy says. he gives steve one of the most obvious once-overs he’s ever seen. “welcome aboard. you’re gonna help me knock down these interior walls, pretty boy. heads up, though. you might break a nail.”

billy shows him how to use a stud finder and how to cut into the walls to make sure there aren’t any loose wires running through it and then he fucking kicks the wall in and gives steve a wild grin as the drywall dust settles into his blond hair.

steve comes back every day to see billy. he doesn’t even bother lying to himself. billy is funny and sharp and always seems to have a comeback for anything anyone ever says. he shows steve how to build things. stands at his shoulder and watches him use the staple gun on the trim. brings him lunch when he goes out to get food for the rest of the crew.

he tells steve that his mom sent him to live with a friend who had moved from san diego to bangor a few years before. his parents split and she didn’t want him living with his dad. he says susan is a little ditzy but she means well, and she didn’t give up on him during his rougher years in high school even though he isn’t even her kid. he calls her daughter my sister and gets a pinched expression on his face when he talks about how she’s been going through her teenage angst since she was eight and how they’re still figuring out how to not always be at each other’s throats.

it takes a month for them to take out the rotted lumber and to fix the foundation and floor and porch and roof. billy shows steve the crumbly mess in the insulation that means he has an ant infestation. steve helps make the framing for the bathroom and bedroom walls and helps lay the stones for the walkway down to the lake. he spends all day at the work site, then he goes back to the hotel, has dinner, crashes. rinse and repeat. he spends the days the crew isn’t working exploring sort of idly and missing the smell of sawdust.

when kali declares the place habitable, he buys a mattress and drops it onto the floor of the master bedroom, which is still missing its walls. he checks out of the hotel and buys some groceries and spends his evenings down at the lake, his own private little waterfront. he tries reading but the only salvageable book in the cabin is walden and he can’t make it past the first page.

he hears axel and mick talking about a meteor shower one night. once the crew is gone and the sky is turning purple-navy, he goes down to the lake and lays back to look at the stars. they’re brighter out here, brighter than hawkins, somehow, and the sky feels endless.

he turns to look over his shoulder when he hears footsteps crunching through the undergrowth in his direction. “just me,” billy calls through the dark. he drops down heavily next to steve and passes over a beer and a hamburger wrapped in greasy foil. casual, like they do this all the time. his hair is down and curly and he’s wearing a red shirt unbuttoned to his navel, where it’s tucked into his jeans. he’s wearing cologne, too, and billy smiles when he sees it get steve’s attention.

they talk and they sit in comfortable silence and then they talk again. billy seems to be getting closer and closer until their shoulders and thighs are pressed together and their elbows are knocking. when billy turns to look at him, their noses almost brush, and steve knows billy doesn’t miss the way his eyes drop to his mouth.

“have you swam in the lake yet?” he asks instead and gives steve a wicked smile when he shakes his head, and then he’s up and stripping down and is in the water, wet hair slicked back over his head, before steve’s brain has even puttered beyond looking at billy’s mouth. “come on it, pretty boy! water’s fine.”

he unabashedly watches steve undress and reaches for him immediately once he’s in the water. no preamble. just. puts a hand on his hip. when steve doesn’t move back, he slips an arm around steve’s waist, and then the other. their knees bump under the water and billy noses at steve’s cheek. kisses him on the chin and the corner of his mouth before he kisses his bottom lip. they kiss and kiss, the water not even up to their collarbones, and steve has never been so aware of the night noises around them. cicadas in the trees. a loon some ways away. something shrieks in the distance and it startles steve enough that he stumbles in billy’s grip, and billy tightens his hold and tilts his chin closer again and whispers, “it’s just a fisher cat,” into the crease of his lips.

they start heading back to the cabin before billy makes them double back for the food wrappers and beer bottles and steve grabs their clothes so he has something to do with his hands. he’s never run naked through the trees before but there’s something freeing about it. for some reason, the trees out here don’t look as threatening as the ones in hawkins. maybe they’re older, wiser. maybe they’ve seen more and know how to protect him and billy from whatever else is out there.

steve clears away the painting tarp over the bed and barely has it on the ground before billy is crowding against him, skin dry but hair dripping at the ends over his freckled shoulders. they lose track of time in a cabin they rebuilt together.

billy’s hand on his chest is what wakes him up. the sun is filtering in through the windows and billy is trying to press a mug of coffee into his hands. steve doesn’t own mugs or coffee or a coffee maker out here. steve sits up and leans against the wall, right where they’ve sketched out the custom headboard billy’s going to help him carve, and lets the blanket pool around him in a way that has billy’s gaze dropping, the apples of his cheeks going a little pink. he looks good in the morning sun, in the little bits of dust floating through the air.

“where’d you find the coffee maker?” steve asks. “and the change of clothes?”

billy gives him a big shark smile but sounds a little sheepish when he says, “I was hedging my bets on needing morning provisions.”

steve makes them eggs and bacon and toast and they sit out on the new front porch to eat and wait for the rest of the team to show up. billy keeps leaning in to kiss his ear, the hinge of his jaw, the side of his neck. just pecks. they still set steve on fire.

billy stays that night, and the next, and the next, and the next. they go swimming for real, eventually, and play cards, and fall asleep outside in the grass with their fingers twisted together. out in the open as much as in their own little world.

kali knows something is going on between them, even if steve doesn’t know if billy told her or she figured it out herself. when it’s just the three of them in a room, billy likes to pitch his voice down, low enough to be husky, but loud enough to be overheard, and gives steve directions more gutturally than usual. pull out a little, he’ll say, all breathless, when they’re fitting the doorframes. now push it back in. harder. mm, yeah, steve. right there. steve doesn’t know if it’s meant to be embarrassing or not but he laughs himself red in the face anyway.

they finish the cabin over the next six weeks. if steve hadn’t been there every day for almost three months, he might have thought he’d gotten the address wrong. it looks like a house, first of all. the outside is a soft brown to blend into the trees. there’s a little living room with a couch and a little table with two artfully mismatched chairs in the kitchen. there’s a huge window in the master bedroom overlooking the lake. steve has never really felt drawn to the water as a non-great-lakes-midwestern kid, but every time he looks out over the lake, he wonders if he even wants to go back to hawkins.

it feels weird giving kali the second half of the payment, knowing he won’t see her again. he hugs her and she pats him awkwardly on the elbows until he lets go. one by one, the rest of the team leaves, and it’s not until steve’s standing alone in the fading sunlight that he realizes that billy’s gone, too.

it’s the first time billy’s just left without saying anything about where he was going and when he was coming back. that deep, dark part of steve says they were just fooling around during the job, but he drinks a beer and talks himself out of panicking. he makes himself a sandwich. lays in the bed. showers. doesn’t really know what to do with himself now that the job is done and billy is gone.

he’s laying on the couch and staring up at the ceiling when the sound of a key scraping in the lock has him on his feet on instinct to do -- something, he didn’t really think that far ahead -- but then the door wedges open and billy’s head appears around it.

“sorry,” he says when he sees steve still gaping. “didn’t mean to scare you. we just -- kali forgot to give you back your spare.”

steve watches him reach out and hang the key ring around the hook next to the door. it overlaps steve’s set.

“oh,” steve says. “thanks.”

billy gives him a little smile and looks like he’s going to leave, but then they’re both saying wait in the same moment and billy’s smile reappears around the door, wide but shy.

“stay,” steve says.

billy slides the rest of the way past the door. he has a small duffle thrown over the shoulder steve couldn’t see behind the door and he’s holding a bottle of cheap grocery store champagne.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” billy says. now that steve’s shown his hand, it’s like billy’s found his footing again. he drops his bag and goes over to the cabinet to pull out two mugs, sets them on the counter. he wraps an arm around steve where’s he’s drifted over without really meaning to. billy kisses the corner of his mouth and presses the bottle into his hands. the foil is already peeled off the cork. “I heard you’re celebrating a housewarming. you wanna do the honors?”

#harringrove #i'm so mad this was supposed to be short but then it was 2700 words #i like. cannot stop watching this show #ryan reminds me so much of james harkin lol #i've only been to maine once and only to portland but i have had friends from maine #and my college best friend went there every summer and always showed me pics of how beautiful the sky is there at night #also sorry if my rehab timeline is off LMAO #sorry but also not sorry #also billy has toooootally developed a little bit of mainer accent lol

48 notes · View notes

theobxhummingbird · 4 years ago

Text

Hero.-Luke Patterson x Reader.

Summary: Luke’s the reason, he found his forever love.

A/N: Anonymous requested a Luke Patterson x Reader imagine, and here’s one I started writing a day ago. I hope you like it anonymous. Thank you for requesting an imagine. The one that also got suggested, will be posted later, just need to finish writing it. 🥰

Emily and Mitch, have been grieving their son for 25 years. The friendly couple, who everyone knew for their unproblematic selves, were living their biggest pain every day of their lives. Mitch was getting better, but his wife Emily seemed to get worse.

But, until their guardian angel, was sent to look after Emily, everything changed in the Patterson household. The windows were opened and light came in the house. Instead of paying her money, Y/N wanted them to plant a flower, every time they feel better. It was also making them feel better, and their dried out garden was getting a new taste of life.

Although, Emily seemed happy in some moments. Whenever Y/N went home, she closed herself in a room and looked at photos of Luke; their 17-year-old son, who died 25 years ago, without making up with his parents. And it was the biggest pain for the family, to have said goodbye to their son, without saying their sorrys to each other.

Mitch called Y/N and told her that she needs to immediately pay them a visit. Slipping her shoes on, and taking her jacket and guitar bag, barely even putting the jacket on, Y/N was running from her home, to get to the Patterson household.

When she knocked on the door, Mitch opened fast and led her to the bedroom, where Emily had locked herself.

-This Julie girl came and brought a song Luke had written about Emily. And she hadn’t come out of the bedroom from then.

-Mitch, I got her. Come on, let’s settle you in the living room. -she said, leading Mitch to the armchair, and giving him a glass of water.

-Emily, it’s Y/N. -she slowly knocked on the door.

-Y/N dear don’t make yourself tired dear. Nothing will work after what I’ve found out about my son. -she cried from the other side of the door.

-Emily, but how am I going to know what had happened if you don’t tell me?

-Y/N, please, I need to be alone.

-No, no more alone. We’ll do this together. Come on, please come out of the room. Is it okay for Mitch to go through two striking pains in his life? His son’s death and the lack of presence of his wife? Come on please, if you love me.

A pair of feet approached the door, and the key clicked, opening the door; Emily came outside with a piece of paper.

-This is the song he wrote me. ‘’Unsaid Emily”. -she said, giving her the paper.

The three of them were sat around the table. Y/N was reading the song, while Mitch and Emily sat quietly, waiting for her.

-Here’s what we’ll do. -she jogged over to the hallway, where her guitar was placed. She came back, and settled herself with it. -I don’t know if the song’s supposed to go this way, but I’ll try and sing it for you okay? Then we can frame it and hang it somewhere in the house. I want you two, to hold hands and close your eyes.

Mitch and Emily did as told, and Y/N started to play. Her voice filled the room, and somehow, magically, a figure approached the table. Y/N’s eyes shot up at him, but after he realized she can see him, his pointing finger was placed on his nose, and gestured her to keep going.

Y/N’s whole body shook, and she didn’t know if she was the one going crazy, or all of this was real. Luke Patterson; Emily and Mitch’s son, was sat on the chair next to her, crying his eyes out while looking at his parents.

-....unsaid Emily. -she finished the song. The couple opened their eyes, and felt like born again. Y/N gestured Mitch that she got Emily, and he left the table. She quickly glanced at Luke, and he nodded a ‘no’, so she doesn’t say anything to Emily. -Look Emily. We can’t do this anymore, if you don’t help me. Do you ever think how miserable Mitch is, to have his wife fade away from him? Do you ever think about how Luke would’ve felt that his mother’s sinking in her pain because of him? If we’re born for one thing in this world, is apologizing to the people we love. I know, I know by heart, if there was even the slightest possibility of bringing Luke back, you’ll be the first one to do it. But life is some sort of unexplainable power, that no human can explain it. We should fight to stay alive though, for ourselves, and for the people we love. If you decided not to live as Emily, then live for Luke; live for Mitch; live for the people you love. Look, there’s so many days that’ll be filled with sadness for your son, because you always carry him in your heart, since the day you found out he’ll soon be born. Now please, if we’re going to live Luke every day, you need to help me. Will you do that?

The key of persuasion; sweet talk and calmness. Emily nodded her head, and placed her hand on top of Y/N’s. -I will. I will help you Y/N, just because I want to mutually give back everything you need. Taking care of me isn’t easy. We had so many people come for help, but none of theme were like you. They gave up the same day, and you’re still here; sitting across from me and trying to give out all your time to help me. Thank you so much. If you and Luke somehow could’ve met before he died, and if you were his age, then he’ll be in love with you from head to heels.

Y/N awkwardly smiled and glanced at Luke, who was dying in his shyness, -He did what he wanted to in his life Emily. He wrote music. Look, he even wrote what he felt. Music is a feeling, that awakens every emotion in our body. Luke only wanted to show you that this was what made him happy. And from now on, we’ll always play music in this house, okay?

-We will, for Luke.

-For Luke. -Y/N smiled.

After she calmed Emily down, she came to the kitchen and called Luke over. -How can I see you, one? What are you doing, two? What is going on, three? Can you speak, four?

-I don’t know how can you see me, because only Julie can see us. I came to see my mother, and when you were there I didn’t think you can see me. What is going on? I don’t know, it’s a mystery to me too. And yes of course I can speak. -he answered all her questions. -Are you taking care of my mother?

-Yes. I’m Y/N. -she put out her hand. Luke glanced at it, and he contemplated on shaking it or not, because he knew he couldn’t touch her But the try was worth it, so he went in to shake it. And---he shook it. Magically, he shook it. Y/N seemed to have realized that she’s normally not supposed to be able to touch him and pulled her hand. -Wait. How can I touch you?

-I don’t know. Somehow.

-Are you alive and lying to us?

-If I was alive, my parents could have seen me at the table, right?

-Yes, that’s a logical answer. -she tried to convince herself first, -You’ll be here every day?

-Why are you asking? -he smirked and leaned on the counter.

-Because, Luke Patterson, I can see you and it’ll be hard for me to proceed my job like this.

-See you’re right, -he fixed the collar of his jacket, - any girl would’ve gotten distracted as well if a smoking hot guy like me stood there in front of them the whole time.

-You’re like an advertisement for yourself promotion. And you’re most definitely not serious. -she shook her head, and smirked at him, walking to Mitch and Emily. -Hey Emily. There’s something really important I need to tell you.

Luke rushed to the living room and tried to stop her from saying anything, but Mitch and Emily were making weird faces at her swinging body, -I can see your---sink is leaking water. We should call a plumber before it causes a bigger problem.

-Okay dear, I’ll check it later, don’t worry, -said Mitch, and the both of them got back to watching TV. Y/N winked at Luke, and returned to the kitchen.

-I thought you were going to tell them. -he sighed.

-Jokes aside, I need to really help your mum, Luke. She won’t be better if I don’t get mutual support from Mitch, and mutual help from Emily.

-Thank you for taking care of my mum. -he smiled, while staring deeply into her eyes. Y/N let herself do the same, since what Emily said earlier, it kind of caught her in a warm feeling, knowing the boy’s also listening.

-Uh---you’re welcome. -she said, -I need to leave. See you tomorrow.

After waving a goodbye to Emily and Mitch, Y/N left the house and started walking to her house, where sadly, her drunk mother would be waiting for her. It was an every day war for her, and she kept fighting more and more, but it was the one thing she wasn’t successful at.

The house was filled with the smell of alcohol, and even a glass bottle rolled to the tip of her shoes when she opened the door. It stunk of left out food, and she couldn’t take it anymore. Leaving her things outside, so they don’t end up stinking like the house, Y/N filled a bucket of soapy water and started cleaning the house. Other days, she tried not to wake up her aggressive mother, but this time she didn’t care. She had enough of her.

-Miss Y/N, you finally remembered the way back to you house. -she sluggishly sat down at the table, barely even making it to the chair, but she did it somehow. -And that you have a mother at home, that maybe is hungry. Make me a toast or something.

Y/N answered to her orders in a calm state, which was confusing her mother every day. She was a bold person, but never raised her voice at nobody. She made her a toast, beautifully wrapping it in a tissue and even squeezed some fresh orange juice in a cup, as well as a cup of coffee for the both of them. Y/N placed everything in front of her mother.

-This time, I’ll talk and you’ll listen, because I’ve really had enough of you living like an animal, rather than a human being, who can take care of themselves if they want to. -she said, and took a sip of her coffee, -I give you a day to think my words through. If, tomorrow I find you in a drunken state, and this house in the same mess as today, I’ll take things into my own hands. Till this day, I didn’t say no to anything you ordered; like a little robot you controlled me around, but this time I am going to stand up for myself. You caused everything that’s happening in our life. We don’t have food some days, because the money I bring home from my job at the restaurant don’t keep up with the bills and food at the same time. I don’t take money from Mitch and Emily, because I just can’t do that to those people, who accept me more as a daughter than you do. Mum, responsibility is being the solution to every problem. And you’re only the cause and wait for others to do things for you in life. Did I ask to be born? No. But here I am, in your life, in this world, now in other people’s lives. Aren’t you a bit aware that your child will ever want to have a parent they’ll look up to? I think you are not, because we’re here talking about it. Until tomorrow, I want you to take a shower, change into some clean clothes, brush your hair, make yourself something to eat if you want to stay alive in this life, and go find a job. I don’t care how you’ll do it, but I want you to come with a result to me. Now, I’m going to prepare my bag for school tomorrow, and go to bed. You’re going to wash the plate and cups, and do whatever you want, or do what I told you. It’s up to you. Good night.

It was the first night, Y/N went to sleep without crying, as well as Emily and Mitch, and it all resulted to being aware of what’s important in life. Luke observed the entire conversation Y/N had with her mother, and couldn’t believe what he’s listening to. She seemed like a bold, emotional, caring person, and it caught him in one big question mark, and the only way of clearing things out, was just sitting alone and thinking about it.

-She’s a hero .-he whispered under his breath. He smiled, it was one of admirement towards a person that’s in his parents’ life. And, it was really unexplainable, and Luke needed time to understand what’s starting to grow in his heart.

Julie was always the girl he thought they were meant to be with each other. And he still thought that way. But as the days passed by, and he got to spend more time with Y/N and his family, he got to know her even more. An amazing person was succeeding in everything she put her mind to in front of his eyes. Her mother woke up from her drunken dream, and started to take responsibility for everything. Even though, Y/N still didn’t give her way for loveable connections with her, they had a communication every day.

Luke secretly sneaked at night, to watch her play the guitar, or prepare a present for Emily. She even made an album for the family, of all their unforgettable moments. The Patterson garden was now filled with flowers, which meant the talking helped them get better. Y/N persuaded them to go on a road trip, and have alone time with each other, just to enjoy each other’s company. They got a dog, which Y/N found it as a distraction of sadness, and it helped.

She fixed everyone, expect one person. Luke. She trapped his mind, his life, his home, his heart, everything he owned in his life. And he had enough of the feeling that kept growing in his heart. Reggie reminded him every day, that it’s called love, but he never tried to look at it that way. Until, one day, when he observed her talking to his mum.

-I’m so happy. I’m so so so happy, Y/N, and all because of you. -she said and placed a hand to where Y/N’s heart was, -This thing, is golden, and I’m so glad it beats in health every day. You came into our life, and somehow succeeded in changing everything. You changed me, you changed Mitch, you changed the feeling of his home; it’s something really amazing. We love you so much our hero.

-Thank you, Emily, thank you for accepting me in this home, and always looking after me if I needed anything. You’re the best parents anyone could ask for.

-I made a lemon pie, go treat yourself a piece. I’ll finish with cleaning. -she tapped her hand and sat up to go and do her job around the house.

Y/N felt well, after a long time, she felt relaxed. Opening the cupboard, she took out a plate, and placed a piece of Emily’s lemon pie.

-She used to make me a lemon pie, whenever I did well in school, or I listened to her. -said a voice, that made her jump a bit.

-It’s really tasty, let me tell you. -she talked with her mouth stuffed.

-Let me see. -said Luke, and leaned, placing a kiss to her lips, and pulling away. -Hm, it really is tasty.

Y/N stood dumbfounded, and she couldn’t move her body. It was as if her system stopped sending signals to her brain. Luke took the plate from her hands and placed it on the counter, then taking a hold of them. -For days I’ve observed the fight you led with life, and couldn’t do anything than sit and admire you from afar. Like mum said, this thing, is golden, and it’s really a pleasure to know it’s beating every day. It’s got me trapped in this unexplainable feeling, and I couldn’t get out of it for a long time, Y/N. I love you; all I know is that I love you so much. Being able to touch you is not a coincidence. We’re meant to be. You and I.

-I know it’s really hard for you, to see another person being able to touch your parents. But I promise you, I touch them and have you in mind. I want them to feel that you’re alive in all our hearts. -she said, and cleared her throat, -Also---our feelings are mutual, and as I see have been for a long time. I just couldn’t bring myself to telling you. But I love you, so much Luke.

He smiled, and his face arose in happiness. He leaned and placed a kiss to her lips, but when he heard Emily, Y/N pulled his hand and brought him behind her.

-Dear, can you bring me a glass of water please? Thank you. -she said, and disappeared in the living room again.

-S-sure. -Y/N said after her.

-It’s really nice to know I’ll have you around from now on. -he kissed her cheek, and spun her to fill a glass of water for Emily. -Bye my hero.

-Bye. -she woke up from her confusion, and placed two kisses on his cheeks.

#luke patterson x reader #luke x y/n #luke patterson jatp #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp series #luke patterson x you #julie and the phantoms #fantoms

71 notes · View notes

outrebanx · 4 years ago

Text

Dragonfly

Chapter 1

Summary: Y/n has just moved to the Outer Banks and is struggling to enjoy it until she meets a few certain pogues (again its an awful summary i’m sorry)

Word count: 2k

Warnings: I don’t think theres anything

A/N: I was originally doing a one shot with this but I hadn’t even got to writing the main bit yet when it seemed to be getting longer so I think if people like it I’ll make it a series and this is kinda like the prologue because theres not much interaction with the pogues and stuff (also the grammar might not be great but oh well) - any feedback would be lovely!

It had only been a week since you’d moved away from Oregon, starting a new life in the Outer Banks, and so far you were struggling to enjoy it. Yes, it was a beautiful place but it wasn’t home to you yet, no matter how hard your dad tried to make it seem like it was, you missed being on the mainland, where you could drive to places whenever you wanted, you missed your friends, but most of all you missed your mum. Your mum dying a few months ago was what caused your dad to move out here - he no longer wanted to be reminded of her wherever he went, whether that was to Cannon Beach where you spent most of your time surfing, swimming and being with your friends (or your mum depending on the day); or if it was just to the shops, he’d be reminded of her everywhere, so apparently that meant he would drag you both to the other side of the country, far away from everything you loved.

It could’ve been worse, you supposed, he could’ve moved somewhere without a coast, which would’ve been your own personal hell, as being in the water was what made you happy and where you went to cool off if you’d argued with your dad or had a bad day.

Annoyingly, since moving here you’d only been able to get down to the sea in the evenings or at night as your days were spent either unpacking or looking for a job somewhere on the island. So far you had returned back to your house, having no luck in anyone hiring you, today was different though, you’d been offered a job at this place called the Wreck, a cute little restaurant in the middle of the island, and you had bought some food from there back with you so you and your dad could celebrate a little.

Pulling into your driveway, you turned off the engine, before getting out you stopped to look at your house - it wasn’t a great looking house, you knew this, and according to the sales person who sold it to your dad, it hadn’t been lived in for a while, which was obvious by the fact that your dad had been fixing it up all week. Your family had never come from money, your dad was a plumber and your mum had been a teacher at a high school, so not hugely paying jobs - but the money (or sometimes lack thereof) hadn’t bothered you guys, as long as you had enough money to eat well and enjoy life together, then it was alright. You agreed with this mentality, but you liked having a part time job to pay for certain things, it was how you’d saved up for a car and how you got your surfboard, so it was worth it.

Stepping out of the car, you made your way to the front door to go inside, and headed straight for the kitchen to put the food you’d brought back with you into the oven to reheat a little before eating.

Realising you hadn’t heard your dad say hello, you called out, “Hey dad, I’ve brought food, where are you?”

You heard a faint answer from the bathroom, and when you got there he was on the floor and attempting to fix the pipes under the bath by the looks of it.

“Hey, how’s that going?”

“Terribly if I’m being honest, one of these pipes had rotted from the inside out so when I tried attaching something to it, it snapped.”

“Oh that’s fun, please tell me the shower still works?”

“Yes it does, don’t worry you won’t have to go anywhere smelling like you do now.” He laughed as you stuck your tongue out at him.

Stepping back slightly so he could stand up, you replied, “And to think I brought you some food, guess I’m just gonna eat it all myself now after that comment.”

You began walking back towards the kitchen when your dad put his arm around your shoulder, “Oh, if food is on the line I take it all back, you smell great.”

“Wow thanks, that seemed really sincere.” You say, smiling back at him as you reached for the oven gloves to get the food out of the oven and onto the plates on the side.

Once you had dished everything up, you both sat at the small dining table in the corner of your kitchen, a comfortable silence falling between you as you dug into the food in front of you.

Your dad broke the silence, “This is really good, where is this from?”

“A little restaurant called the Wreck, that also happens to be where my new job is.”

“You got a job? Damn, you kept that quiet.” He laughed, “I’m really proud of you Y/N, and I know your mum would be too.”

You looked up at him, smiling, “Thanks dad, and there’s no need to be emotional, it’s just a part time job.”

“I think you’ll find I can be proud of you whenever I want, which just happens to be all the time because you’re amazing my little dragonfly.” He reached across the table to ruffle your hair, before retuning focus back to the food in front of him.

You also looked down at your plate, still smiling but trying to stop your dad from seeing how your eyes watered at the nickname your mum had given you when you were younger. The nickname came from the time you and your mum had gone on a walk in the woods near you, where there was a big lake, with hundreds of dragonflies flying around it - initially you had tried to catch some of them, but when that failed, you’d stayed still, holding your hand out hoping one would land on you. Within minutes a large blue one had landed on your hand, which was then followed by a couple more, your mum had taken a picture of this, capturing the joy on your face when you looked at the multiple dragonflies. Since then it had been your nickname, your mum even getting you a cute silver necklace with a dragonfly charm on it for your birthday a few years back - which you’d pretty much never taken off.

“So,” your dad spoke up again, “at this place, the Wreck, are there any people your age who work there as well?”

“Um, there weren’t many people working today when I was in there, but there was this one girl, I think its her family who owns it, and she seems quite nice.”

“That’s good, hopefully you might become friends then.” He smiled at you reassuringly, you bit back your comment about how you had friends at home because you knew he only meant well, and he was struggling just as much as you were in this move, so you just nodded and ate your last mouthful of food.

After you had cleaned your plate, you said to your dad, “I think I might go surfing in a bit, once my food has settled, because I’m going into work tomorrow to collect my uniform and do a small shift, and I’ll probably be too tired to do it after that.”

“Okay that’s fine,” he turned to you as you walked out the room, “just don’t be out too late, and like usual, be careful.”

“I’m always careful.” You smile at him before going upstairs to get ready.

—————

The beach was nice and empty at this point in the evening, probably because the sun was just setting and people would rather not be out in the cold or dark. But you liked the peace and quiet of it, hearing the waves crash against the sand always relaxed you, and there was no need to worry about what other people think of you if there are no people around which was a bonus.

You set out into the water, board in hand, before it was deep enough to get onto it and paddle out a little further. Once you were far enough out, you began waiting for the perfect wave, riding a few that weren’t too great in the meantime, enjoying it all the same though. As you were sat on your board, waiting for another wave, you heard some voices on the beach, and looked over there to try and make out where abouts it was coming from. Eventually you saw a couple of figures walking across the beach, and from where you were it looked like two guys, maybe around your age, but they hadn’t noticed you yet and you weren’t sure whether you wanted them to.

It was unlikely you would be unnoticed for long though because if they looked out to the water they’d be able to see a person, especially if you were riding a wave. Checking the water behind you again, you saw a promising wave begin to form, and so you began paddling to try and catch it, forgetting about the boys on the beach as you focused, and just before the wave broke you stood up, and started riding it. You turned to angle yourself on the wave slightly better before doing a kick flip, and successfully landing it - you couldn’t help but let out a little whoop at your success, always happy when you landed a trick well. After this you only managed a few more seconds on your board before the wave crashed onto you, knocking you into the water.

You quickly swam back up to the surface, getting your board beneath you so you could start paddling towards the beach - deciding to end the night on a high and before it got late enough for your dad to start worrying about you.

As you got nearer the beach you saw that the boys who you’d seen walking were now standing there watching you come out of the water, you’d been right about them spotting you when you were out there.

Once out of the water you rang your hair out before putting it into a bun to keep it out of your face, and just as you started moving again the two boys approached you, in a way that seemed nervous you thought. The closer they got, the more attractive they became, both very tall, one with long brown hair and the other blonde and both with incredible bodies. Damn maybe you wouldn’t mind it here after all.

“Hey, we haven’t seen you around here before, are you new?” One of them, the brunette one, asked.

“Um yeah I moved here last week.”

“Oh that’s cool, by what we saw you do just then I’m assuming you surf a lot?” This time it was the blonde one who had asked the question, and as he did you could see his eyes move up and down your body, a small smirk on his face when he met your eyes.

“Yeh I lived by the coast in Oregon, so I’ve pretty much surfed since I was a kid, which is basically the only thing this place has in common with home, so I’m taking advantage of that.”

The brunette spoke up again, “Thats nice, um, I’m John B and this,” he indicated to the other boy, “is JJ.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N,” you smile at them, “but I need to go now, so I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Yeh that’d be great” JJ replied as you turned around and starting walking back up to your car, turning around one more time to give them a quick wave.

Once you were at your car, you could still faintly hear them, and from what you could work out they were talking about you, nice things it sounded like, you rolled your eyes and got into your car to drive home and collapse in your bed, still thinking about the way JJ had looked at you.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj x reader #outerbanks fic #obx fic #obx #outer banks #john b x reader #john b routledge #pope heyward #outrebanx

189 notes · View notes

florenceandthemachine · 4 years ago

Text

@hearteyesforbuck asked:

I have been dying for a meet-cute au where Eddie takes Chris to the gym once a week and they box a little together before Eddie spars; usually Chris sits by the ring and reads but one day Eddie finds him laying on a bench, lifting an empty bar while this really cute blond guy spots him and gives him encouragement ....

guess who’s asks are still broken?

Tumblr keeps adding the “Read More” into the ask box, which breaks the entire post when I try to post it. Why is it happening? No idea, but if anyone knows how to fix it, please let me know, this is getting really old.

anyway, fun fact that I just learned about myself—if you want me to dedicate 100% of my brainpower to writing 4.5k of something in one sitting, you just throw in Christopher Diaz.

Eddie liked to think of himself as some kind of a “do it yourself” kind of dad.

Most of the time, that was a good thing.

Kitchen faucet broke? No worries, Eddie has some plumbers tape and three different YouTube videos telling him how to fix it.

Car wouldn’t start? Not a problem, Eddie bought the full repair manual offline and knows his way around a wrench.

Christopher needed forty gluten free, egg free, dairy free cupcakes for class tomorrow? Eddie was perfectly capable of... admitting when he was outmatched by a stand mixer and calling thirteen local bakeries to see if they delivered, because his car still wasn’t starting.

Point is, if there was a way he could work on something, Eddie would at least try it—and needless to say, that got a little complicated where Christopher was involved.

Eddie still wanted to do a lot of it on his own. Chris was his kid, and no one else's, and he didn’t even like being away from him while Chris was at school—he wasn’t sure if that was guilt stemming from leaving Chris as a kid, or guilt about introducing Shannon back into his life only to have her wind up dead, or guilt about... well, pick-a-thing, but he was pretty damn sensitive about what he perceived he could do to help his kid.

Which is why, when Chris’ physical therapist gave Eddie some suggestions about how Chris could work on strength training at home, Eddie dove completely into the deep end, head first, no floaties.

Working on Chris’ fine motor skills had been cake. Writing, drawing, arts and crafts, even playing video games, all helped improve Chris’ hand eye coordination (and if Eddie ran out of room on the fridge for Chris’ masterpieces and started framing them instead, well, that was his own business, no matter how nosy the busybodies at Michael’s got).

Working on his gross motor skills, though, that was another story. They could go on walks, sure, and they did every day. Eddie could hook up the trail-a-bike to his own once or twice a week so Chris could ride along with him, without worrying about his balance, but those were both leg heavy activities—and while it was great that Chris was building his core strength and leg strength, Eddie wasn’t about to just strap a wrist weight to Chris’ arms and call it a ‘well rounded workout’.

Short of more physical therapy, Eddie was at a loss as to what to do—so when Google Maps pushed him off the 101 to avoid a wreck on his way home from work and he got caught by a stop light right next to "Ricky’s Boxing Gym”, Eddie felt like his prayers had been answered.

Over the next few months, they had set up a pretty good routine. Eddie would bring Chris to the gym, they would hop into one of the many rings, and he and his son would get a half hour of quality time, three times a week. Eddie had his own set of boxing mitts, and Chris thought that spending a half hour trying to punch his dad’s hand was the most fun a kid could have after school. Chris would tire himself out and sit on the bench, drawing or reading for a while more, while Eddie would actually spar with one of the staff members, get his own workout in, and then they’d go home.

Nine times out of ten, they’d stop for ice cream or pizza, and completely undo any of the workout they had actually done, but Eddie thought that was a small price to pay for the whoop of joy Chris let out when he actually managed to hit Eddie’s glove dead center.

Eddie’s sparring partner of choice (well, after Chris) was Tommy Kinard. He was nice enough, and kept Eddie on his toes, giving him plenty of time to look over to Chris to make sure he was safe, and happy, and occupied, and (“Dad, I’m fine! Go punch someone!”) okay, maybe he was helicoptering a little bit. He hadn’t really thought it was a problem until Kinard went on paternity leave, leaving him in the capable, and brutal, hands of Boscoe.

Boscoe was a beast. He didn’t know her first name—didn’t know if she had a first name—but what she lacked in pleasantries she more than made up with strength. If Eddie was being honest, though, he kind of loved it; even after the first day they sparred together, when he wound up limping into the 118, proudly admitting to Hen that he had been beat up by a girl.

The thing was, Boscoe was intense, and while that was a good thing, it gave him less of a chance to helicopter over Chris.

Which, okay, maybe that was a good thing too. Whatever.

He knew the gym pretty well by that point, and knew the people who worked there, knew he could trust Chris with any of them—which is why when he looked up after dodging a jab from Boscoe, and saw Chris absent from his bench, he only panicked a little bit.

When he managed to take a wider look around the gym and saw a familiar pair of shoes laying down on a workout bench, the rest of him obscured by a bigger, bulkier body, that panic went from 0-60 real quick.

“Hey!”

He only barely managed to dodge a glancing blow from Boscoe as he ducked beneath the ropes, grabbing a towel to blot at his face as he hopped down. His voice was little more than a quick bark through the gym as he stepped around another group of machines, his frantic pace slowing a little as he got into earshot.

“... yeah, come on buddy, you can do it! Come on, give me one more rep! You got this little man!”

Fuck, had this stranger actually given Chris a set of weights?

His temper was white hot by the time he finally got around the front of the machine, opening his mouth to shout, to get a manager, to do something, but the words died in his throat as he took in the scene before him.

Because Chris was definitely on the bench, and he definitely had his hands on the bar—the bar that was completely devoid of weights, Eddie noticed, the same bar that had two much larger, stronger hands attached to them. Hands that were probably doing all the actual work of lifting the bar, because Chris was laying back, unable to speak, because he was giggling so hard.

The bar landed back on the rack with a dull thunk as Chris pulled his hands back, sticking them straight up in the air triumphantly as he sat up. The man behind the bar gave a big show of leaning against the frame of the bench dramatically, fanning himself, giving Eddie a full view of an employee shirt, name badge, and the gym logo stitched across the polo he was wearing.

Whelp, that was almost very embarrassing for him.

“Holy cow, that was such a good job! Man, you have got to be the strongest kid I’ve ever met in my life!”

“Dad, did you see me? Buck says I’m super strong!”

Eddie had to admit, he was a little thrown by whatever was happening here, but Chris was obviously having a good time, and he felt the white hot anger dissipate into something a little less angry and a little more embarrassed.

“That was some pretty impressive work, buddy! Have you been holding out on me?” Eddie dipped down and tossed a few playful jabs at Chris, selfish only because he wanted to prolong the joy his son was obviously feeling, but it was all worth it as he was handsomely rewarded when Chris started giggling again.

The man—Buck, Eddie gathered—laughed, drawing Eddie’s attention upward, and for a moment, his brain short circuited, because there was no way on earth a gym rat could be this... pretty.

Because damn. Buck was pretty.

Pretty enough that Eddie was easily distracted, waxing poetic (internally, thankfully) about beefy arms and a plush lip that he didn’t notice what was happening until Buck stuck a hand out, smiling, and Eddie could only guess what was going on. He reached out and took the hand, his own smile hitching as Buck’s face slipped into confusion.

“Uhh—”

“...I was asking if you wanted me to take your towel for you and get you a fresh one.”

Oh. Right. Towel.

Eddie’s face burned as he pulled the towel off his shoulder, handing it over, giving a too-tight laugh as he nodded his head. “Yes! If you could get me a new towel so I could strangle myself in embarrassment, that would be great.”

Well, at the very least, that got Buck to laugh again—death would be worth it if that was the last sound he heard. “Sorry I kind of stole your kid. He was wandering in between the machines, and it’s my first week off of the evening shift, so I just wanted to make sure he didn’t get hurt—but then he started asking about all the weights and pulleys and stuff, you have a really smart kid!”

Total Gym Hottie (Buck, his mind corrected. If he was going to drool over someone the least he could do was use their name) was complimenting his kid now, and Eddie was so star struck he was actually proud to say he didn’t stumble when Buck nudged his shoulder, head jerking back to the ring he had abandoned.

"...anyway, I think strangulation is the least of your worries, if I know that look, Boscoe has an entirely different death planned for you if you don’t get back in the ring. Go on, I’ll help little man here wheel you out on a gurney when she’s done with you.”

Buck sounded way too positive about that, and it was all Eddie could do to groan and walk back to the ring, tail between his legs.

Sure enough, even after he had the next day off, he was still sore when he walked into the 118 for his next shift.

Buck became easily, seamlessly, a part of their routine, in a way that probably deserved a little more insight on Eddie’s part, but insight was for suckers. At least two days out of the week, their schedules aligned—Eddie and Chris still worked on their exercises, but now it included Buck giving a dramatic play by play on the sidelines, talking up Chris like an announcer, or just otherwise causing shenanigans.

It was worth it, easily, because while Chris was certainly never a negative kid, Eddie had never seen him in brighter spirits. And Buck... well, anyone that could find a way to help out his son in a way that Chris clearly enjoyed earned an instant gold star in Eddie’s book. The fact that he was easy on the eyes wasn’t a bad thing, either.

“Diaz, I swear to God—”

Eddie only barely ducked under Boscoe’s extended hand, forcibly rooting himself back in the moment, looking guiltily back to her instead of watching Buck and Chris.

“—can you pay attention for like three minutes so I can hit you without feeling bad about it?”

Eddie tried, he really did, but it was hard. A few weeks had gone by since their initial meeting, and Eddie had gone from “wow he’s pretty” to “full high school crush” in no time flat. It wasn’t his fault, though—because what sealed the deal wasn’t the moment Buck had switched to tank tops over polos, or how happy Eddie was to spend time staring at Buck’s magnificent ass (and it was really, really magnificent, let the record show), it was how he interacted with Chris that sent him over the edge.

Buck was good with Chris, but somehow that was the understatement of the year. He was kind, and he was bubbly, and he was just in sync in a way that Eddie wasn’t even sure he had reached, and Chris was his son. Buck was patient in a way that seemed effortless, easily slowing himself down or changing what he was doing when he noticed Chris struggling, wether it was in going over a math problem while Eddie got the crap beat out of him or just showing him how some of the different machines worked.

Hell, right now, Eddie had his hands securely around Chris’ hips as he lifted the other male to a chin-up bar, helping Chris count out the pull-up’s he was doing—and while all Eddie could hear was Chris’ laughter, all he could see were the thick cords of muscle attached to Buck’s arms, lifting Chris like he weighed nothing.

Eddie wondered, not for the first time, if Buck could lift him like that.

Like she was a horrible mind reading pervert, Boscoe smacked him with an open hand—not hard enough to hurt, but not soft enough that he was going to ignore it.

“Diaz, this will be our last session together. Kinard is back next week—” Another punch, a quick jab that Eddie blocked with his forearms. “—so the least you could do is focus on me and not the apple of your eye over there.”

“Buck isn’t the apple of my—fuck—my eye, grow up.” Eddie huffed as he threw out a punch of his own, his hand knocked away violently, only barely dodging the sharp hook that Boscoe sent to him.

“God, I was talking about your kid, Diaz. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Oh.

Ignoring how red his face was, Eddie grumbled and threw another quick jab, though he missed completely as Boscoe stepped back, a grin on her face, and Eddie knew better than to trust that look. The last time he trusted that look, he had been talked into fighting bare-handed, and he still wasn’t sure his knuckles would ever really work again.

“You know, Kinard is supposed to take you back as a client, but I bet if you asked nice enough...”

Oh no.

“Hey, Buck!”

Oh no. Eddie looked up in horror as Buck easily lifted Christopher onto his shoulders—god, so much muscle—and jogged over, with the nerve to not even be out of breath when he smiled up to the pair in the ring. Eddie bit his tongue and leaned over to high five his kid, fully prepared to deal with whatever terrible thing was about to come his way.

“Kinard was supposed to take Diaz here back after he’s off leave next week, but I know he wanted to ease back into things after being away from the gym for a few months. You think you could spar with him in the interim?”

Oh, no, didn’t seem to cover it anymore. Eddie was having a hard enough time focusing on the task at hand when Buck was in the same building, he would be signing his own death certificate if he had to stare Buck in the face, and then try to hit said face. He hadn’t even seen Buck break a sweat before—he didn’t know if his little bisexual heart could take it.

He was somehow both relieved and regretful when Buck shook his head, looking plenty apologetic as he pulled Chris up and off of his shoulders, making sure that he was steady on his feet before he leaned up against the ropes. “Sorry, Eddie. I don’t really box, and besides, I think Chris and I are making real progress while you get your butt kicked. Show him the guns, Chris!” Buck said, and Chris immediately started some classic strong-man poses, Buck posing dramatically behind him, and Eddie felt his heart melt for two entirely different reasons.

Buck turned around mid pose as the door chime went off, giving Eddie ample time to count out the individual strands of muscle fiber in the moment before Buck relaxed, turning with a smile back to the gang in the ring. “Lena, that's my next client. Chris, Eddie, I’ll see you both next week, yeah?” He said with a grin before he fist bumped Chris and waved to Eddie, slipping back into Professional Buck mode. Eddie waved back, brows almost in his hairline as he looked back to Boscoe, who was scowling at him.

“So—”

“No, Diaz.”

“Wait, why not? Buck gets to call you Lena!”

“Beat me in the ring as often as Buck does and I’ll consider it.”

Eddie had his mouth open to retort when Chris cut him off, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he tilted his head. “Can I call you Lena?”

She didn’t even hesitate a moment, nodding her head seriously. “You can absolutely call me Lena, squirt.”

Chris promptly stuck his tongue out at his dad, and Eddie reacted in sort, falling to the floor of the ring as he grabbed at his chest. “The nerve! Betrayed by my own child, my own flesh and blood!”

Chris looked thoroughly unimpressed, sitting back on the bench as he started to pack up his schoolwork. “Lena, can you tell my dad to stop being such a drama queen?”

It wasn’t until they were both in the car, that Eddie, thoroughly beaten down by his son, his trainer, and his own brain for providing a play by play of Buck that day while he was in the locker room shower stall, really thought about what Buck said.

He didn’t box. Which was strange enough in a boxing gym, but whatever, there were plenty of machines that Buck could be working on instead.

But them Boscoe (god, he couldn’t even call her Lena in his head, it felt like she would figure it out and beat him to death) basically admitted that Buck regularly whooped her behind the ropes

If Buck wasn’t boxing in a boxing gym, what the hell was he doing?

As it turned out, Eddie didn’t have to wait long to figure it out. Barely a week had passed before Eddie had received a call from Chim, all but begging Eddie to switch shifts so he could take the girl he had been seeing out on a proper date. The switch was a no brainer—Maddie seemed like a great girl, and as much shit as he gave Chim for... well, being Chim, he obviously wanted to see his teammate happy, especially when the only thing he would have to change was a gym day from a Monday to a Sunday.

If he had known that this would be the day that sealed his fate, he probably would have reconsidered the switch all together.

The gym was packed—which probably wasn’t surprising for a weekend day, but damn, Eddie had been glad he booked a ring with Kinard ahead of time. It was nice to see a familiar face in the gym anyway, one that wasn’t trying to beat the crap out of him in the ring, and once Kinard joined up with them, it was easy to shoot the shit. Eddie congratulated him on his step into fatherhood, ruffling Chris’ hair as he did—not that Chris noticed, busy scanning through the machines for a familiar blond head.

Not that Eddie could judge, when he was doing the same thing.

“Hey, I’m gonna toss my stuff in a locker. See you out here in a sec?”

“Yeah, sounds good! Buck and Boscoe are almost done in their ring, we have it next.”

Eddie was halfway to the locker room before what Kinard had said clicked in his brain, and he immediately did a 180, making a beeline to the rings set up on the far side of the gym, easily spotting the pair when he knew what to look for.

It was no wonder that neither he nor Chris had recognized Buck when they walked in—he was literally drenched in sweat, his usually fluffy blonde hair dark and slicked to his forehead, scowling around his mouth guard as he danced around Boscoe.

Boscoe, who Eddie had never seen so worked up. Damn, she really hadn’t even had to try during his matches. Wasn’t that a blow to the ego.

No, Buck definitely wasn’t a boxer, because this was a dance. Every move he made, he made with his entire body, his energy flowing through each form, moving easily and gracefully in a way that shouldn’t have been possible with such an incredible amount of force and flat out violence. He almost felt dazed as he followed Buck’s movements, but in the best possible way, his eyes snapping back and forth as he tried to trace where one hit ended and the next began.

“Wow.”

Eddie was glad that Chris said it, because he still couldn’t find the muscles needed to pick his jaw up off the floor. He didn’t know if Chris had followed him over to the ring or if his Buck-radar was just that good, but for the time being, Eddie was more than thankful for the minute distraction as he ruffled his kids hair again.

Boscue was moving more desperately as the match continued, launching into a series of quick jabs, but even Eddie could see where that was her downfall. Buck knocked her arm back with her last punch and sent a kick straight for her shoulder, but then he twisted his entire body off of the mat and his other leg was in the air too, and Eddie instinctively sucked in a breath as Buck locked her neck between his thighs. They both came crashing down to the mat, struggling impressively until Boscoe slapped Buck’s thigh twice, and then—

—and then Buck was all smiles again, beaming as he released her and took a knee on the ring, helping her back into a sitting position, spitting out his mouth guard with an excited moment of praise for her technique.

Eddie could not compute. This was his downfall. Eddie is dead, long live Eddie.

“Holy cow, Buck! That was amazing! You’re like... you’re like a ninja crime fighting super hero!”

Well, that was one way to put it.

Buck’s head whipped around at Chris’ excited outburst, lighting up when he spotted Eddie and Chris near the bench, eagerly scooting forward into a sitting position closer to the ropes.

“Thanks, little man! That was some mixed martial arts, it’s super fun. I’ve been teaching Lena for a few years, she’s getting pretty good!”

Buck’s grin slid into something a little more proud and pleased as he looked to Eddie, and Eddie felt every muscle in his body tighten as Buck’s gaze burned through him.

“What did you think of that leg lock, Eddie? Total knock out, right?”

Oh fuck, was Buck flirting with him now? That had to have been flirty, right? Come on, Brain, do something.

“... legs.”

“...my legs?”

“Buck, your... your legs.”

Buck’s smile looked a little more pinched as Eddie groaned, shaking his head. “Okay, I, I’m sorry, but I have to ask you this or I will completely die. Can I take you out to dinner sometime? I know a great place off the strip, you’ll love it, my treat.”

The look on Buck’s face was skeptical, at best, but at least he wasn’t shutting him down, giving Eddie the benefit of the doubt (and giving him a moment to get his brain back online). “Because of my legs?”

“No. Well, okay, you have amazing legs. And arms, though, and like... a stupidly handsome face, and I would be blind not to notice those things—” shit, Eddie probably sounded like such a shallow asshole right now. “—but I’m asking because you’re really smart. And you’re kind, so kind to Chris too, and you’re patient, and... Buck, you’re really really sweet. And I would love to take you out for a dinner date the moment you can look past my apparent inability to form a single coherent thought.”

After a moment that felt much longer than the three seconds it was, Buck sighed and leaned past Eddie, looking critically to Chris. He slid down to his stomach, squinting as he dropped down to eye level with the boy. “What do you think, Chris? Should I give your dad a shot?”

Well, at the very least, Buck was asking the one person that Eddie knew he always had in his corner; and sure enough, Chris delivered. “I think so. Dad really likes you.”

That’s his boy.

“Last week he spent my whole entire physical therapy appointment telling Dr. Wilson how much help you gave me and how nice you were and how much he appreciated it. It got kinda annoying.”

...well damn, Eddie wasn’t expecting to be called out by his own kid like that, but if the suddenly soft look Buck was giving him was any indication, it might have been the necessary push to get him to understand how serious Eddie was.

Eddie tried to keep his excitement tamped down when Buck nodded, sitting back up. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll make you a deal. Only because you managed to ask me out before I could ask you.”

Wait, Buck wanted to ask him out anyway?

“If you can land three hits on me in three minutes—should be easy after spending a weeks with Boscoe—then you can pick the time, the place, and I’ll even talk Lena in to letting you call her Lena. But if you don’t...” Buck reached through the ropes to help Eddie up, tossing him a wrap for his hands as he did. “... then I get to pick the time, the place, and you start training with me in MMA instead of going back to boring old boxing.”

Eddie blinked at him in abject horror as Buck dipped his voice low, seeing with terrible clarity exactly where Boscoe had learned her terrifying grin.

“That way you can see my leg choke up close and personal. Deal?”

The stakes were too high, and Eddie couldn’t say no.

He was screwed.

He was elated.

But fuck, he was screwed.

(Three minutes later, Buck asked if Eddie was free on Friday at seven, promised to pick somewhere nice, and gave him a searing kiss before he disappeared into the staff locker room. Eddie, on the other hand, needed a spatula to peel himself off of the floor of the ring.

He had never been so happy that he could barely move in his life.)

139 notes · View notes

teamhook · 4 years ago

Text

The song in your heart... Burlesque :|:CSMM

This is my second submission for the @captainswanmoviemarathon

Thanks to everyone in the Discord for letting me bounce ideas and for all the help.

Thanks to @ultraluckycatnd for Beta services :)

The story is loosely inspired by Burlesque, it will not be a retell of the movie. I hope you guys enjoy reading it.

Art by @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713

Summary: Small town girl Emma Swan moves to L.A. to follow her dreams. The best view on the Sunset Strip becomes her home. But is she bound to find true love in a dashing bartender?

AO3

FFN

The bright sunlight is the first thing the blonde sees as she exits the bus station. This is what she had saved for. Hours of tedious work at that hole in the wall diner. Sure she didn't plan beyond the trip, but she couldn't help the smile that engulfed her face. This was her first step in making her dreams come true.

She secures her duffel bag after checking her money stash. First, she needs to find a place to sleep.

She really should have done some research before leaving Storybrooke. She pulls out her phone and does a quick search for cheap hotels. The thought of being in such a big city for a small-town girl should be scary, but there was no time for fear. I am not nothing, I was never nothing.

She can't believe she is riding in a taxi. Sure, she's from Maine, but even they've heard of Uber. The car stops suddenly. "Miss, we've arrived."

She looks out the window and smiles at the man. She hands him his fare. "Thank you." She grabs her bag and leaps out.

The hotel is the least expensive one she can find, and she pays for a week in advance. She's tired, so tomorrow her search for a job will start.

The next day, the blonde, Emma, is full of energy. She has been applying online but decides the old way can still work. First, she needs to get something to eat. She enters a small diner that reminds her of home and circles a few printed ads while she has her lunch.

She walks the Sunset Strip, trying her luck at a few bars looking for new talent with no luck. She sighs and makes her way to the next one. The day ended quickly as her feet clicked on the pavement.

The darkened street is lit by a lounge's marquee with inviting lights. On the balcony, a woman smiles. The blonde crosses the street hurriedly and her eyes fall onto the enticing poster calling for her to enter the lounge. The entrance walls are filled with images of old-timey beauties of the past along with great singers and dancers, and the music caught her attention, drawing her further in.

"We don't have windows but we do have the best view on the Sunset Strip. Twenty dollars, come on honey. Help a man out."

"Excuse me?" she replies as she was taken out of the enchantment of the music.

"Fill out this fine establishment," he smiles hopefully.

She looks around the jammed room and asks, "Is this a stripper club?"

"No, no. Darling, I should wash your mouth. You haven't seen anything like this before. You won't find a pole inside unless you count the waitress. Come on." He extended his hand out for the fee.

Emma bites her bottom lip. She digs into her jeans pocket, pulls out a twenty-dollar bill, and hesitantly hands it to him.

He smiles brightly and invitingly points to the lounge. "Enjoy!"

She's hesitant as she makes her way through the tables to the bar. The smile was instant; she loves music, it's her escape. She finds a stage with a group of beautiful women dancing and singing.

Show a little more

Show a little less

Add a little smoke

Welcome to Burlesque

The bar is full but what she really needs is a drink.

"Lass, can I get you something to drink?" an accented voice calls for her attention. Her green eyes meet dazzling blue ones surrounded by kohl that enhance the color; the auburn-highlighted, dark-haired scruff unable to hide the square jaw surrounding luscious lips.

She smiles. "Only if you're buying."

"Welcome to L.A. and the Burlesque Lounge." He smiles brightly as he hands her the drink.

"Uhm, thanks." She smiles and turns her eyes back to the stage.

"So where are you from?"

"Oh, from a small town in Maine. How about you?"

"Ah, from Boston."

"Boston, you don't sound like you're from there."

He laughs, "Aye, originally from London but moved to Boston years ago. I still can't rid myself of my accent, I'm afraid. Killian Jones, at your service."

"Emma Swan. So tell me, who do I have to flirt with to get up there?" she says as she points to the stage.

Killian scratches behind his ear as his attention is turned temporarily towards the waitress. "Sweetheart, how about doing your job?"

The girl giggles. "Yes, Captain," turning to go to the nearest table.

"Sorry about that, Emma Swan, and if that's you flirting, you are in dire need of lessons," he smirks.

"I'm sorry. I'm not about to waste my talents on someone who wears more eyeliner than me," she smirks back.

He laughs. "Fair enough. Through that door over there, flirt away, Swan. Ask for Cora."

"Thanks."

"Oh, and Swan? Use my name." Killian smiles and starts pouring some liquor into a glass.

"Thank you." She follows his directions.

Behind the doors, it's complete chaos; girls running around half-dressed, rushing to get ready for the next act, all talking at once.

"We're on in five minutes, five minutes, ladies. Come on..." a deep voice comes through the speakers.

"I'm almost done!" one of the girls yells.

"Ladies, tick-tock, time is almost up," Henry says.

"Does anyone know where Zee is?" Cora asks, annoyed.

"All spotlights are supposed to pull in!" Henry screams.

"Ashley, your boyfriend is so hot!" another dancer says.

Cora sighs. "Tonight, Netflix and Chinese?" she asks Henry.

"Yes, I wouldn't miss it." Henry smiles fondly.

"Cora, I lost a contact lens on stage," Rory says.

"Alright, if you fall off the stage just remember you're still a princess," Cora says.

"You're a goddess," Henry reminds her.

"Thank you, Henryyyy!" Rory says with a bright smile, while Cora rolls her eyes.

"Jonathan, the sink is broken, again."

"I'm not calling a plumber, Tiana," Jonathan declares. "Cora, we need to talk about this letter."

Cora sighs dramatically. "Jonathan, how many times do I have to say it? I don't want to discuss this while I'm working."

"Cora, Graham Humbert is coming tonight."

"And what do you want me to do?" Cora asks.

"This isn't going away, Cora. You never want to discuss this. You avoid me like the plague," Jonathan says, holding a paper.

"I didn't divorce you so I could spend more time with you."

"I still own half of this place," he says and walks away.

Emma timidly walks up to the woman she saw on stage earlier. She is sitting regally in front of her mirror putting make-up on.

"Why are you in my mirror?" Cora asks with a raised brow.

"Excuse me, are you Cora? I'm looking for her. I'm friends with Killian and I'm looking for work."

Cora continues to refresh her make-up. "Where have you danced?"

"In front of my mirror at home, but I can dance."

Cora sighs. "Leave your information with Henry. He will let you know when we're having our next audition." Cora points to Henry.

"Uhm, do you know when I should expect the call?" Emma asks.

"Henry?" Cora calls out.

"Where the hell is Zee? She is really late!" Henry says, annoyed.

Emma quickly says, "I'm never late."

"That's good to know," Henry says. "Sweetheart, leave your details with Killian, your friend, and we'll be in touch. We are currently trying to run a show here."

Emma smiles. "I have never seen anything like that before. I need a job and I really want to work here."

"Sweetheart, I love the enthusiasm, but it's really bad timing. We'll be in touch. Promise," Henry says with a warm smile.

"Let's move, ladies!" Henry turns to the dancers, finally in their costumes.

Emma starts to walk out deflated when the door bursts open and a fiery red-head enters.

Cora and Henry both turn to her, matching mock smiles on their faces. "We are so happy you could make it. You missed the opening act and we were saying how amazing it would be if you made it to the next one."

"Sorry, I'm late, but beauty like mine takes time," she smirked as she started getting ready for her number.

"You know what else takes time, Zee? Finding a new job," Cora says with a deadly glare.

Zee laughed. "Yeah, right! You wouldn't have a show without me and you know it." Looking towards Emma, she orders, "Hey you, waitress. Get me a sour-apple martini A.S.A.P." She snaps her fingers as if by magic the drink would appear in her hand.

"Zee, she doesn't work here," Ashley said, smiling.

"Then she isn't busy, is she?" The redhead turns her attention to her mirror.

Emma stares back at the rude woman.

"Didn't your mama teach you it wasn't polite to stare?" Zee said mockingly.

Emma gasps, "I just can't help myself. You are so breathtaking."

Zee laughs, "Well, at least you have good taste. Stare away."

"You know, no one would ever guess." Emma smiles.

"Guess what?" Zee glares.

"That you're a man. Not that there's something wrong with that." Emma shrugs as she walks away.

Zee shrieks. "You little-"

Henry and Cora interrupt, "Zee, the show must go on."

Emma's on her way back to the bar as she notices the waitress from earlier flirting with a customer and ignoring the other patrons calling for her.

After a few stops, Emma finds her way to the bar. "I'll have a vodka and a cosmo for the big guy over there."

"Swan, what are you doing?" Killian asks.

"Killian, give me a chance and I'll show you I'm way better than her. She is too busy flirting to do her job. If I'm not better, you don't have to pay me," Emma pleads.

Killian sighs, "Alright. Let's see what you've got."

The next day, as Ashley starts the routine to 'Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend', Cora and Henry look on. The lounge is busy and the patrons are enthralled by the act on stage.

A kiss on the hand

may be quite continental

But diamonds are a girl's best friend

"Henry, isn't that girl the one that was backstage yesterday?"

Henry smiles, "I believe so."

Cora turns her attention to Killian. "Why is she tending to the customers?"

"She really needed the job and now she is our new waitress," Killian says.

Cora looks at the bartender. "Killian, darling. When did I make you, head of Personnel?"

"She just picked up a tray and started taking orders," he says as he scratches behind his ear.

Henry mutters, amazed. "Really?"

"Her name is Emma," Killian says with a hint of a smile.

Cora calls out, "Emma, hey Emma." She waves the young girl over.

Emma walks with purpose as if she's ready to fight to keep her newfound job.

Cora stands up and looks Emma up and down. She sighs. "You need to maximize your assets; you got them, show them. Work them to your advantage. Oh, and Emma, don't ever go behind my back again." The warning was evident in the older woman's voice.

Emma smiled, "Yes, ma'am."

"Emma, don't ever call me ma'am again," Cora hissed.

A flustered Emma replies, "Yes, sir. No, I mean your Highness. Cora."

Cora shakes her head. "Get on the floor, and remember to work it."

Tiffany's!

Cartier!

Black, Starr, Frost Gorham!

"Excuse me," a masculine voice calls to Emma.

Emma smiles. "Yeah, what can I get you?"

"Dewar's 18 on the rocks and a bottle of Dom for the table, and keep them coming. Oh, and will you let Zee know I'm here?"

"I'm sorry and you are…?" Emma asks.

"A Platinum member, Graham Humbert. And you are?"

"Emma," she replies.

"Emma," he repeats as she walks away.

Zee rushes backstage as she struggles to finish getting into her costume. She finds Henry looking on. "I know I'm late, but better late than never. What is that waitress doing here? I want her gone!"

"What did she ever do to you?" Henry asks.

"She said I looked like a man!" she scoffs.

Henry smiles. "Well, that can't be the first time you've heard that. Zee, go get dressed for the next act. Ashley had to go on in your place."

Zee shrieks, "Merlin, my spotlight!" She goes on stage and once there, pushes Ashley out of the way as she dances and lip-syncs.

"Damn it, Zelena!" Henry yells, frustrated. That girl is going to give him a heart attack.

I've heard of affairs that are strictly platonic

But diamonds are a girl's best friend…

"Emma!" Killian calls out. "Swan, what do you need?"

Emma snaps out of her singing daydream. "Dewar's 18 on the rocks and a bottle of Dom-"

"And keep them coming?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, so he is a regular then," Emma confirms.

"Graham Humbert, real estate tycoon and currently dating Zee," Killian says.

Emma sighs as her attention lands on the stage, "I wanna be up there."

He smiles as he finishes getting the order ready. "And do you have the talent?"

She nods, "Yes, I do."

"Good, you're up." He pushes the tray to her.

She rolls her eyes as she takes the tray.

He simply laughs.

Meanwhile, inside Cora's office in the back, Jonathan, Cora, and Graham are in conversation.

"Cora, the way I see it is simple. I assume all your financial obligations, and I pay you each five hundred thousand."

"Where is the partnership in that?" Cora turns to Jonathan.

"How about a partnership?" Jonathan asks Graham.

"Sorry, I'm not partner material. The deal is very generous. I leave with my final offer."

"Graham, tell me why is it that you want my club so badly?" Cora asks.

Graham shrugs. "I just like it, and when I see something I like, I have to have it."

"That must have made you very popular growing up as a kid," Cora snarks.

"I did okay."

"Cora, just think of what you could do with that money!" Jonathan says.

"You know what you can do with that money, Jonathan?"

"The way I see it is simple, you're in trouble and I'm in the position to help. We can all come out winners. Remember, you got that balloon payment due at the beginning of next month."

Cora turns angrily to Jonathan. "Seriously? Did you also tell him about the queen-of-hearts tattoo on my ass?"

"Of course not. This is just business."

"I don't think you will get another offer. At least not as generous as this one," Graham insists.

"Graham, I'm not interested. My club is not for sale," Cora says with finality.

"Think about it, the offer is on the table," Graham states before he leaves.

Zee has just returned backstage to get ready for the next number. as Emma arrives with drinks. "Ladies, here are your drinks!"

The girls stampede to get their drinks.

Cora makes her way through. "Wait one-second girls, which one of the drinks is Zee's?"

"Tom Collins and the shot," Emma replies.

Zee tries to grab the drink, but Cora beats her to it and drinks it with a smile on her face. "Here's mud in your eye, Zee.

Now I got a buzz, and you gotta change, you're on," Cora says.

"Just because you're my mother doesn't mean you can tell me what to do." Zee crosses her arms.

"Zee just go get ready," Cora demands with a look that could stop a beating heart.

Zee leaves in a huff.

Henry approaches Cora. "Honey, I don't know if you noticed, but was Jonathan talking to Graham Humbert?"

Cora sighs. "That would be because Graham wants to buy my club."

"Are you serious?" Henry replies.

Meanwhile, Emma hesitantly approaches the duo after hyping herself by the door.

"Cora, I was hoping I could run an idea by you," she stammers, "on how to make the show better. I know you are really busy but-"

"Speaking of the show, have you talked to Dave about the new vocals?" Henry asked Cora as he looked over the costumes.

"Vocals, that's exactly what I was trying to talk to you about." Emma smiles. "None of the girls sing, they lip-sync."

"Except for Cora," Henry states as he turns all his attention to Emma.

Emma lets out a nervous laugh. "Right, except for Cora. I just think the audience would really love it if the girls would sing and dance."

Cora stands in front of Emma. "No, they wouldn't."

"Honey, the people come here to watch the dancers dance and lip-sync to the greats." Henry grabs Emma and guides her to the door.

Emma tries for one last attempt to make her case. "I just think this would work, I don't understand why we can't try something new."

"Because it's above your paygrade," Cora says. "Henry, please remove her."

"Emma, honey, I think your friend Killian needs you back," Henry says as he gives her the final push outside the door.

@rumdrum91 @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @sherlockianwhovian @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @donteattheappleshook @spacekrulesbians @lassluna @carpedzem @captainodonoghue @killian-will-do @jarienn972 @tehgreeneyes @demisexualemmaswan @queen-serena88 @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jonirobinson64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81

#Captain Swan #cs ff #Captain Swan Movie Marathon #CSMM #csmm20 #teamhook

31 notes · View notes

bush-viper-cutie · 4 years ago

Text

Love Me Roughly: Motel for the Night

Pairing: Snape x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,008

Rating: E for Everyone

Plot: Severus has arrived to his new city and must now find a place to stay and get in contact with the wizards who can safely find him a new home.

A/N: This is part 2 of 7 for the week 1 schedule for Snape Appreciation Month! Thank you @snapeloveposts for organizing this!

DISCLAIMER: I have edited (drawn over the original) the artwork (taken from a 80′s bodice ripper novel) for the purpose of this short series and will post more information about the original work here.

Posted: 6/2/20

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter –>

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

The plane ride wasn’t as agonizing as he thought it would be. In fact, he slept for the majority of it. After finding his seat, and after seeing that take off went alright he closed his eyes until a woman with a snack cart came by. It reminded him of the Hogwarts Express, except with only orange juice and peanuts. He closed his eyes again and woke up once the descending turbulence hit.

Everyone stood and grabbed their luggage and Severus followed along. He felt very much like an outsider, needing to observe everyone else to know what to do, which he normally avoided doing by researching and studying but of course he did not have any time for that during his tenure at Hogwarts and as a spy under both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord.

He exited the plane and looked around the airport once more, grabbing another coffee to wake himself up – “Caramel Vanilla with extra whipped topping and hazelnut” – and found his way to the exit. The doors were sliding open as people neared them and the night-time wind finally reached his body.

Severus shivered and clung to his muggle coat, “Fuck that’s cold.” He reached for his knitted hat and shoved it over his head, making sure his ears were covered, and wound his scarf around his neck tight. No way was he catching a cold the first day of freedom.

He pulled his trunk along and exited the airport. The air wasn’t as chilly as he initially thought so he let his scarf down so he could breath in the Alaskan air. He wasn’t sure exactly what time of night it was, but the stars were shining bright in the sky.

He walked over to a taxi-cab line and waited his turn. He finished his coffee and looked around for a bin to throw the empty cup away.

“Over there.”

Severus turned to see it was the same woman as before who had sat next to him in London. He nodded his thanks and threw his cup in, walking back and nodding again to her for helping him and not cutting in line while he was gone.

“Are you from London, or from here?” she gave him a short but polite smile.

Does it matter? Go away. He nodded and looked ahead, turning his back to her.

“I’m from here,” she said a little louder, obviously trying to keep up the conversation.

The line moved and he was able to get the next cab, putting his trunk in the back and opening the door. The man asked where he was going and he responded with “motel” only to be asked which one. How am I supposed to know? What do I say?

“Oh! Go to Aurwa, it’s cheap but one of the nicer ones!” she lowered her hands from her mouth and gave hm a thumbs up.

“Aurwa,” Severus rolled his eyes and climbed in.

The ride was around twenty minutes and he found himself a little pleased to have gotten the suggestion from the woman. The motel looked rather nice and the sign at the entrance mentioned a sauna and free breakfast. He paid the driver and got his trunk out, breathing in the air again.

It was only a few degrees colder than what he was used to and the greenery around the area surprised him. He had thought it would be snowing and that the land would be covered in a white blanket of glitter and day dreamed on the plane that he’d be able to wear layers upon layers with the perfect excuse to cover most of his face.

He sighed and entered, heading straight for the front desk. He rang the bell and an elderly woman came out from behind a door. She opened up a binder and uncapped a pen, holding it ready to write down his request.

“One room …” he looked around even though it was just him and the old woman in the tiny room. “And the number for this city’s worst plumber...”

The woman looked confused but wrote it down and stated the price of an available room per night. He paid and took the keys from her and headed to the very last room with his number on it. He jammed the keys inside and held his breath as he turned the knob and opened the door.

He reached for the lights and flicked them on, letting out his breath as he realized the room looked decent. He had slept in much, much, worse in the past. He closed the door and locked it. He shut the curtains and took out his wand to clean up all the dust off the bed, floor, and drawers.

He moved onto the bathroom and used Scourgify on every surface. He stripped down to just his underpants, throwing his clothes on his bed, and remembered he had his strawberry cheese filled bagel in his trunk still and that book...

He took them out and walked back to the tub, turning it on and sat on the toilet lid eating his bagel as it filled. He licked his fingers and slid out of his underpants, tossing them onto the sink’s edge and lowered himself into the tub.

He levitated the book above his face and sunk deeper under the water, forcing his bent knees out, as he began to read.

‘Robin flung a tight satin robe around her naked body and ran to the balcony doors, closing them shut. She sat at her dresser and rang a little gold bell, calling for her beloved friend and butler, Stephano.’

After about forty minutes of dozing off in the warm water, someone knocked on the door. He wrapped a towel around himself and picked up the note that had been slid under the door. It was the number for the worst plumber in Fairbanks.

He sat on the edge of the bed and dialed the number, hearing an annoying ringing and finally an answer.

“Prosaic Pipes! How can I help you?”

He hesitated at the sound of the cheerful voice coming through the phone. He sighed and laid back on the bed, “I’ve just moved to Fairbanks. I need a home and the Blue Jay package… At the Aurwa motel room 30.”

There was a click and the line cut. Severus placed the phone back, dressed in his wizarding clothes, and waited. Within minutes there was a scratching at the door. He opened it and looked down to see a tiny dog looking up at him with a blue package on it’s back like a tiny backpack.

The dog barked and entered before he could reach down and untie the package.

“Hey,” he turned and followed the dog to the bed where it had curled up with its ears perked.

He scoffed and removed the Blue Jay package, avoiding the dog’s little tongue as it tried to sniff and lick him. Inside was a black bank key with a thorn sticking out from the loop. He pricked his finger and watched as his blood dissolved and the key turned bright gold like the Gringotts ones. He picked up the note from inside the package and read his appointment time for tomorrow behind the motel in the forest, “… ‘seventeen steps deep’.”

“Great, thank you… dog. You may now leave.”

Severus pointed to the open door, but the little dog stayed at the foot of his bed. He growled and picked the dog up, placing it outside. The dog ran back in as Severus closed the door and jumped back onto the bed.

“Do I look like a dog person to you? I’m not going to feed you.”

The dog barked and wagged its tail.

“No, I said I WASN’T going to feed – ” another bark “you… Alright fine, if I do will you leave and go back to wherever you came from?”

The dog barked again and stood, wagging its tail so hard his little body shook. He picked the dog up and left the room, heading to a vending machine. He scanned all the options for the most dog-like food item and bought a jerky stick.

“Here,” he unwrapped it and handed it to the dog, “Deal’s a deal so – ”

The dog took it and ran around the corner, back towards his room.

“No,” Severus chased after it and caught it scratching at the door still wagging its tail.

He gave up and let the dog in, deciding to ignore it until it came time for his appointment in several hours. The sun was starting to rise and he could either stay awake until it was time to leave or rest. Guessing by how hard it was getting to keep his eyes open he decided to take a nap.

“Just a few hours,” he sighed and took off his clothes and slipped into his night shirt. He slid into bed and frowned. The dog was looking at him and refused to budge as he slid his feet under him. “Excuse me. But this is not your bed nor will I accept the company.”

The dog tilted his head and barked, wagging his tail. He stood up, finally letting Severus extended his legs, and walked over the sheet and nuzzled under Severus’ arm.

Appalled, he pushed him aside, “No. Sleep over there. On that side.”

The dog jumped back over his body and nuzzled under his arm again, licking his chin repeatedly until Severus turned around. The dog followed again but this time kept his tongue to himself and Severus sighed, giving up.

“If I wake up covered in slobber, I will NOT buy you another jerky,” he pushed the dog slightly more under his arm, pleased with the extra warmth.

He picked up his wand and summoned his book, ready to continue where he left off.

‘Stephano finally arrived with the tray of honey glazed crème brulee and set it down on the nightstand by her bed. Robin sighed and thanked him greatly, asking if he could do her one more favor. She pulled down the robes that were covering her naked body to around her bare shoulders and pointed to a spot on her bare neck that had been so sore lately.

Stephano could practically read her mind, using everything he knew about his oldest friend to perfectly predict everything she wanted ahead of time. He pulled back his tight sleeves with his large manly hands to reveal incredibly large bulging muscles perfect for the job on her dainty bare neck.’

. . .

“Mmm, stop it,” he pushed the dog away and opened his eyes.

The tiny dog had his tongue out ready for another lick. Severus sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking around the room for a clock. He squinted and read the time, seeing that it was only an hour until the meeting time.

“Are you trained as an alarm clock too?”

He got up and stretched, cracking several bones, and scratched his back. He buttoned up his clothes and made himself a sandwich from the food he had backed from home.

Chomping on a large pickle he looked down at the tiny dog, “Let’s go get your jerky, then.”

The minutes ticked by as he observed the dog bite at each end of the stick until a piece came off and swallowed it whole, only to throw it back up and finish chewing it. He wasn’t sure what animal he would have wanted to be, but he certainly would never want to be a dog. Or a cat for that matter.

He saw how students treated every cat that crossed their path in the corridors. Hugs, pets, and kisses from complete strangers? Perhaps a bird though… Ah, what he would have given to be a pigeon perched above Lockhart’s desk, sending down little surprises every hour…

“Well, your time is up. Let’s go give you back to your irresponsible owner and get myself a new house, preferably with a large bath.”

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter –>

#pro snape #severus snape #severus #snape #severus snape x reader #severus snape x you #severus x reader #severus x you #snape x reader #snape x you #snapedom #snape x fem!reader #snape appreciation month #snape appreciation month 2020 #snape fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #snape fanfic #snapeloveposts

64 notes · View notes

cecilspeaks · 4 years ago

Text

168 - Secret Blotter

Life is 10 per cent what happens to you And 90 per cent false memories of what you think happened to you. Welcome to Night Vale.

In an effort to bring more transparency to the Sheriff’s Secret Police, a chronicle of one night’s dispatches will be released to the public. This action comes at the behest of the City Council, who voted unanimously on a resolution to ban plastic bags.

Now, OK, while those two things may not seem related, Sheriff Sam misunderstood the vote as a rallying cry against tyrannical surveillance and a personal threat, involving being thrown to the pit of vipers behind the bowling alley. Sheriff Sam, who has a paralyzing fear of vipers, proposed a compromise in which Secret Police dispatches would be temporarily divulged, so the public can get a better idea of what agency does and how tax dollars are being spent. A plan which was readily accepted by the Council, though they continued to roll their eyes and gnash their teeth and chant softly: [creepy voice] “Viper pit! Viper pit! Blessed be the viper pit!” Which is just how they express a “yay” vote on procedural issues.

As a result, Night Vale has its first ever police blotter. Let’s dig in. 9 o’clock PM. Missing person reported inside the Ralphs. Night manager on duty says employee went to stock some cases of Lime-A-Ritas in the new walk-in beer cave and never came out. Reporting officer thoroughly checked beer cave and confirmed it was deserted. Three cases of the beverage were left haphazardly in the middle of the floor, and a loading dolly had tipped over onto its side. Manager states employee originally brought in four cases. Manager added one missing case of Lime-A-Ritas to the report. When asked if this kind of thing has happened before, manager changed subject and asked if officer would like to look at some of the children’s drawing contest submissions. Officer was amenable to this request.

9:16 PM. Noise complaint. Dog barking in an unknown language annoying residents. Dirty white fur, human face. Gone when officer arrived on scene.

9:25 PM. Two underage residents attempted to sneak into an R-rated movie by pretending to be one tall person in a trench coat. When confronted by officer, they turned into a swarm of flies and dispersed.

10:01 PM. Noise complaint. A sound resembling television static was being emitted from a shower drain out in the Hefty Sycamore trailer park. When recorded and played backwards, it turned out to be a broadcast from a 1952 episode of the game show “Beat the Clock”, where contestants competed to see how many pieces they could smash a clock into. A plumber was called.

10:15 PM. A resident of Desert Creek searched for “easy tortellini recipes”, but none of them were easy enough. It was so late already, and they needed to get to bed soon, but they were also very hungry and needed to eat dinner first. They wanted something quick, but they also wanted a real dinner, not a false dinner like… cereal? They became hyperaware that the more they deliberated on what to make, the longer it was all taking. And factoring in the decision-making time on top of the meal prep time was becoming additionally stressful in relation to the desire to get to bed soon.

11:30 PM. A Coyote Corner’s swimming pool filled with blood and began swirling furiously in a counter-clockwise direction. Home owner appeared distressed. Officer advised home owner to drain pool.

11:31 PM. Multiple residents awoke in a cold sweat from the same dream. It wasn’t necessarily a nightmare, but it was definitely not pleasant. The only thing they could recall afterwards was that it was showing, and that there was a tree with seven limbs.

12:00 AM. Witches.

2:00 AM. That time of night when everything starts getting hazy. Were you headed to a crime? Checking a surveillance station? Listening to a wiretap? Going home? Returning to headquarters? Signalling an invisible helicopter? Sometimes you lose track. An old local legend comes into your mind, and you try to recall the details. It’s been so long since you heard it. You watch the headlights bounce along the dirt road ahead, and your eyes begin to play tricks on you, sensing movement in the dark margins where the light doesn’t penetrate. You turn off the lights and slow the vehicle. They weren’t tricks after all. There is movement here, a dark writhing mass entering the roadway. You are forced to stop the car. Eyes flesh open in the dark. Many sets of eyes. This isn’t part of a half-remembered legend. This is something very, very real.

More of the blotter soon. But first, let’s have a look at traffic. You’re hunting in a pack near the Old Highway. The smell of blood is in the air. Headlights bounce over the rise and your stomachs rumble. The moon flees behind the clouds and you fan out, along both sides of the road, moving parallel to it like a lazy river. The car approaches and slows. It shuts off its headlights, as you knew it would. Some of you push ahead to the car, blocking its path. Others move to the rear and others remain at the sides boxing it in. You converge, surrounding it more tightly the door opens, then closes again, the fleshy creature inside cursing softly. You hear a crackle of radio static, but you know it is inconsequential to you. You consume the metal shell first. There are explosions of air and the hiss of leaking fluids. Then the glass, crunchy and cool in your collective gullet. And finally, the screaming delicacy in the center, the cloth-wrapped package of meat and bone. There are other things afterward, less enjoyable, but consumable nonetheless. Papers and electronics, and the pleather, and cold French fries in the back. Nothing must remain. By the time the moon emerges from the clouds, the old highway will be deserted once more. This has been traffic.

And now a word from our sponsors. Today’s show is brought to you by TickTock. The only app that tells you exactly how long you have left to live. The sleek countdown display synchs easily with all of your devices, so that you can check your mortality at a glance. The premium edition provides additional details, such as manner and location of death, and updates to the minute, as you make different choices throughout your day. You’ll find yourself asking questions like, why did returning a library book just subtract 4 years from my life? How did leaving late for work change my final outcome from drowning in gulch to birds of prey? Why does it say “tomorrow” all of a sudden? [panicking] It must be some kind of glitch, right? OK, OK, I’ve updated the app but it still hasn’t changed. It still says “tomorrow”. I just got checked out by a doctor and they said I’m in great shape, I’m staying home from work, I’m not answering the door, I’ve closed the blinds and I’m sitting on the couch, surrounded by pillows, not moving, not even blinking, I’ve done everything dammit, EVERYTHING!!! WHY DOES IT STILL SAY “TOMORROW”???!! Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. This has been a word from our sponsors.

Back to the Sheriff’s Secret Police blotter. 2:30 AM. Responded to an officer distress call on the Old Highway. No sign of officer or vehicle found. Must have been a false alarm.

3:15 AM. Nude man ranting in middle of old highway, carrying a case of alcoholic beverages. Identified as the night shift stocker at the Ralphs. Claims he entered the walk-in refrigerator at work, reached up to place the case of beverages on the shelf, and abruptly found himself in a network of ice caves. He eventually climbed up a snowy mountain where he met a robed figure he refers to as “The Oracle”. “The Oracle” foretold of a hungry darkness with a thousand eyes and urged that the portal must be cloooosed. The Ralphs employee also reported that “The Oracle” had slurred speech and seemed unsteady on its feet, and may have been inebriated. After this exchange, he then found himself standing in the Sand Wastes nude. He does not know where his clothes are. Officer escorted man back to the Ralphs to finish out his shift.

3:35 AM. Domestic disturbance. “He won’t stop practicing the flute!” a Cactus Bloom resident reported, indicating his dopplegänger who stood in the corner of the bedroom, staring unblinkingly at the wall and playing the same halting scale on a wooden flute. Officer advised resident to take a melatonin and try to get some sleep. “If he doesn’t stop, I can’t be held responsible!” the sleep-deprived resident threatened. “Sounds fair,” the officer agreed and left the premises.

4:00 AM. An alarm clock went off in Old Town. A woman attempted to get out of bed, but her cat walked sleepily onto her person and began purring, preventing her from rising. Her cat is elderly and the woman knows its number of purrs are finite and must be honored. Eventually, she put on coffee and took a shower. She used Herbal Solution shampoo for a lifelong dandruff condition, though she has not seen any improvement after years of using the products. She continues using it, because she likes the way it smells. It smells medicinal, like it’s helping, and it does tingle, like the label promises. The tingle means it’s working, the label says. So it must be working.

And now a break form the police blotter for some sports news. Night Vale High School – go Scorpions! – has added a concession stand to be used during sporting events. The parent-teacher association proudly unveiled the new stand at last week’s baseball game, dedicating the plywood structure to the memory of favorite AP auto shop teacher, Nick Teller. Teller reacted with confusion at this news, as he is still alive. “Oh, of co-, no, of course you are,” the PTA responded awkwardly, “but we just wanted to honor – your memory, as in what a great memory you have. You-you know how you’re really good at remembering stuff? We just wanted to, yeah uh, honor that,” the PTA went on, seemingly unable to stop explaining themselves, whilst standing in front of the dedication plaque, which featured several doves, a Celtic cross, and an image of clasped hands. Teller admitted he does have an excellent memory and is very honored. The following concessions are available at the Teller memorial stand: Special allowances, the granting of rights, the acceptance of certain things as truth, the yielding of certain other things as untruth. Also, RC Cola and popcorn.

Oh, which reminds me, we actually have another word from our sponsor, Royal Crown Cola. Invented by Ferdinand the 1st, king of Naples, who built a museum of mummies inside his palace to house the bodies of his slain enemies. “I am parched from building this museum of mummies,” he famously said, and the rest is history. RC Cola – the drink of ruthless monarchs.

In local news, I have the results of the Ralphs drawing contest. Local school children were encouraged to submit a drawing to the store this week, depicting their favorite Ralphs product. I’ll start with the runners up. The third place drawing comes to us from Ella Snider, a student from Night Vale Elementary, and it shows a large black scribbled mass with a lot of eyes on it, with the Ralphs building on fire in the background. Very creative, Ella!

The second place drawing comes from Jace McCoy, also from Night Vale Elementary, and this one also shows a black mass with many eyes and a big bright red splatter of blood across the page. Nice use of color, Jace!

And the grand price winner comes to us from Heather (Fathusam) [0:16:52] of Daggers Plunge Charter School. Her drawing features a beautiful black mass with lots of lovely eyes, and it’s holding a box of store brand frozen pizza rolls. Congratulations, Heather!

Back to the blotter. 4:01 AM. Distress call from the Ralphs. Upon arrival, officer was pulled into the manager’s office. The employee from the earlier incident was also present, huddled under a desk. Manager frantically indicated the surveillance window that looks out into the store, which he normally uses to spy on shoppers and report on what they are wearing for his Customer Fashion newsletter. Shelves of products were being knocked over and consumed by a vast dark nothingness. The back of the store then burst into flames. The manager implored the officer to quote, “Do something, please, or we’ll all be killed!” Officer used the intercom system to tell the nothingness to vacate the store immediately, and advised it of trespass and vandalism laws. The nothingness took the form of many dark shapes with many eyes. A tank of fresh seafood exploded and numerous shellfish were damaged. Officer advised the shapes that they were all under arrest. “Stop talking to it!” the manager cried and knocked the intercom mic out of the officer’s hand. Approximately 1000 eyes turned to look at the office window. Interesting. Well.

Let’s have a look at that weather.

[“Best Friends” by Curtains: https://curtains.bandcamp.com/]

4:35 AM. Situation escalated at the Ralphs. Officer, manager and employee embraced one another under the office desk amid the shattered glass of the surveillance window. The building trembled around them, products flew through the air, half the inventory was sucked into oblivion, and a great fire blazed, spreading to the bakery section. After doing an estimated 200,000 dollars worth of damage, the darkness and its many eyes entered the beer cave and did not come back out. Officer investigated the beer cave and found it to be empty. “You have to shut down the cave!” the Ralphs employee implored the manager. “That’s its doorway to our world!” The manager hedged and responded that a big heat wave was coming and if they hoped to recoup any of their losses, keeping the beer cave open was going to be instrumental to the store’s survival. “People will spend big on frosty cold beverages,” the manager responded. “Not to mention they’re gonna like standing around in there for a nice cool-down.” The employee wrapped his robe tightly around himself. Oh, the manager had lent him the robe, one of the many fashion items the manager kept in his collection, since the employee still didn’t know where his clothes had gone. “OK,” the employee said. He picked up a Lime-A-Rita and guzzled it down in one continuous gulp. Then he said, his voice already a little slurred: “I’ll have to try to shhhhtop it myself.” He ran into the beer cave and promptly vanished.

5:40 AM. Tree with seven limbs seen growing out of a hole in the vacant lot out back of the Ralphs. Snow observed on the branches, which melted off quickly as the sun rose.

5:45 AM. Real pretty sunrise.

Well, that concludes our Secret Police blotter. I dunno about the rest of you, but I personally feel a lot more safe and secure getting a closer look at what our Secret Police do. On behalf of Night Vale Community Radio, thank you for your service. I’m sure we will all rest a lot easier knowing that our fate is in your hands. Our sleeping bodies are under your watchful eye, and our every thought and action is being monitored for the greater good. As Secret Police mascot Barks Ennui always says: Stay tuned, stay, vigilant, report your neighbors. Woof. Woof.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Six out of seven dentists have no idea where that seventh one disappeared to. Honest, they all have rock solid alibis and that blood could have belonged to anyone.

#welcome to night vale #wtnv #wtnv transcripts #episode 168 #secret blotter

58 notes · View notes

violetwolfraven · 4 years ago

Text

Lean on Me

45 for javid—requested by @livininmyhead

I’ve been lowkey parenting all my friends/siblings alone for a while and now you’re helping me and idk what to do with this???

((I know this is a bit different from my usual style, but I’m trying something out so I hope you like it, anyway.))

...

“Hey, what’s wrong, Elmer?”

“It’s nothin’. It’s fine.”

“It clearly ain’t, so what is it?”

“I didn’t make enough to keep my bed tonight. I’m gonna have to sleep at home. I prefer it here, most of the time, but for one night, it’s no big deal. Like I said, it’s nothin’.”

“Don’t you have like... 10 big brothers and sisters, all livin’ in a normal-sized apartment?”

“I have 8. Why?”

“Nah. You’re not goin’ back there. Sharin’ space is bad enough in a Lodging House, but at least there’s enough for all of us. You can sleep with me and Crutchie on the fire escape for the night.”

“Jack, I—“

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Elmer. And I ain’t lettin’ ya say no, so can the ‘you don’t have to’ bullshit.”

“I... thanks, Jack.”

“Like I said. Don’t worry ‘bout it, kiddo.”

...

“Hey, Jack, ya got a minute?”

“Sure. Need to talk?”

“I was wonderin’... you’re good with things, right? Like... charmin’ people?”

“You’re askin’ me?”

“No, I know how to do it with just anybody to sell papes or whatever. But... but what if it was someone ya actually wanted to... ya know...”

“Ooh! Lookin’ to woo a girl, Romeo?”

“Um... maybe... kind of.”

“...oh. Oh, Ro... It ain’t a girl, is it?”

“No... is that wrong?”

“No. No, Romeo, there ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, or you. Never let no one tell you different. Just... be careful. I don’t have to tell ya what could—“

“You don’t.”

“If ya don’t mind me askin’... who is it?”

“It’s Specs.”

“Oh. Oh my... I should have seen that coming a long time ago. Okay, so, for flirting with Specs specifically, here’s what you’re gonna do, kid...”

...

“Albert?”

“J-Jack! I’ll—“

“Hey, kid, where ya goin’? What’s wrong? Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Ain’t no shame in cryin’, Albie. It’s okay. Talk to me, kiddo. What’s up?”

“Go away!”

“No. Like I said, cryin’ ain’t anythin’ to be ashamed of. So why are ya cryin’? What’s wrong, Albert?”

“My... my mom. She’s been sick for a while, but now she’s... she’s...”

“Oh, damn. I’m so sorry, kid.”

“Get off me!”

“Albert, there is no shame in needin’ a shoulder to cry on every now and then, no matter what anyone says. And you just lost your mom, so if anyone’s got an excuse, it’s you. I won’t tell nobody. Just let it all out. It’s gonna be okay.”

...

“Jack?”

“What is—Oh my God!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to—“

“Sniper, did your father do this? I know you’ve mentioned him bein’ bad before, but I never thought it was this bad.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Snipes... I won’t ask if ya don’t want me to. But the Lodging House has gotta be safer than—“

“My mom needs the money. I can’t.”

“Fine. If ya need to keep goin’ back for her... Remember that you’s always got a place here if it ever gets too much... but for now, I’ll patch ya up so you can go back to your ma.”

“Thanks, Jack.”

...

“Hey, Jack?”

“Yeah, what’s up, Mush?”

“You gave Romeo advice on... makin’ moves on people, right?”

“Yes, I did, and if he told ya to come to me... damn. I mean, I suspected, but 4 of my boys? I gots nothin’ against it, but I don’t like that it ain’t safe.

“Yeah... wait, 4?”

“My advice is good, kid. Ro’s got himself a boyfriend. And for you... it’s Blink, ain’t it?”

“How did you—“

“Mush, buddy, ya ain’t as subtle as ya think you are. And trust me; Blink ain’t soft with anyone, but he is with you. He likes you, too. Gettin’ him ain’t gonna be hard. All ya gotta do is be yourself and ask him out. Just pick somewhere that ain’t too obvious as a date spot so nobody suspects. Unfortunately, lovin’ other boys is dangerous, and I don’t wanna lose any of mine because the wrong people found out.”

“You won’t. I’ll be real careful. Thanks, Jack!”

“No problem, kiddo. Good luck!”

...

“Hey, Jojo, ya got a minute?”

“Yeah, why?”

“A couple of the fellas came to me, a bit worried about ya. I was just wonderin’ if you were okay.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Jojo, I’s heard a lot of lies in my day from a lot of liars. And you’s honestly got to be the worst liar I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s fine, Jack. I can handle it.”

“Mike said you freaked out and went to a bad place just cause he startled you. What’s that about?”

“He saw me writin’ with my left hand, okay? It’s fine. I just forgot what I was doin’ and didn’t mean to use it, but—“

“What’s wrong with usin’ your left hand?”

“It’s wrong. I’ll go to hell because of it.”

“Who told ya that?”

“The nuns.”

“Jo... can you control it? Usin’ your left?”

“No. Why does that—“

“If you can’t control it, ain’t doin’ it on purpose and ain’t hurtin’ anyone by doin’ it, why is it wrong?”

“‘Cause...”

“Look, nuns say a lot of things, and most of ‘em mean well. But they’re learnin’ from a book written a long time ago. Times change. And look—Mush writes with his left. Do ya think he’s goin’ to hell?”

“...no.”

“There ya go. You’re fine just the way you are. Okay? Don’t let no one tell ya different. Need a hug?”

“A hug sounds nice.”

“Come here, kid.”

...

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please don’t—“

“Finch, calm down. You’re in the Manhattan Lodging House. You’re okay. You’re safe. Shh. Nobody’s gonna hurt ya here.”

“Are-are ya sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Your folks ain’t gonna find ya here, and if they do, I won’t let ‘em get to you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Shh. It’s okay. I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’ll protect you, okay? You believe me?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Good. Hush, now. Get some sleep.”

...

“Hey, Jack. You awake?”

“Well, I am now.”

“Sorry... do ya really think we can win this? I mean... that Plumber woman is right. We really are just a gang of kids.”

“Hey. We’re a gang of kids with the wit and will to pull this off. We got a reporter willin’ to listen to us. And sure, she’s a girl, but...”

“That’s more than we’ve ever had before.”

“Exactly. We’ll be fine, Crutchie. Don’t you worry ‘bout it.”

“We’ve never had someone like Davey Jacobs, either.”

“We sure haven’t! He’s somethin’ else, ain’t he?”

“Yeah, but... what if Finch is right and the cops come bust our heads?”

“Then I’ll be there takin’ the first hit.”

“Jack—“

“What I mean is, I ain’t gonna let him get to you or any of the rest of the fellas. Don’t worry.”

“I didn’t say anything about him, Jack.”

“Who said anything about him? There’s no ‘him.’”

“Jack, we both know more likely than not, he shows up. Are you gonna be okay?”

“It’ll be fine, Crutchie. I’ll be fine and so will everyone else.”

“That seems like a promise ya shouldn’t—“

“Goodnight, Crutchie. Go to sleep.”

...

“Whoa, Race are you—“

“I’m fine, Jack.”

“Pretty nasty shiner you’ve got, there, so I’d argue that you’re not, but that ain’t why I’m askin’. I know you, Race. I can tell when your smile is faked, and honestly, it is a lot more than it should be, but—“

“Spot didn’t come.”

“What?”

“I thought he’d come for us! I thought he’d show up at the last minute to save us but then he didn’t and he just—“

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, Race. Slow down and tell me what’s wrong.”

“Spot Conlon and me... ya know we’re close, right?”

“Yeah, of course I know you’re—oh. Oh. Okay.”

“What? What’s oh?”

“Ya could’ve told me. I mean, I gots a bunch of queer pairs I’ve been helpin’ sneak around.”

“Spot and me ain’t—“

“Save it, Racer. I think we both know that ain’t true.”

“I... you’re really fine with it?”

“Sure. I don’t care who ya fool around with, long as nobody finds out ‘bout ya foolin’ around with boys.”

“No, Jack, ya don’t get it!”

“What don’t I get? What’s this about, Racer?”

“It’s not just foolin’ around! I... Jack, I think I...”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize... I didn’t think Spot Conlon had feelings.”

“That’s the problem, Jack. I don’t know if he does. The problem is that I think... I think I love him. And he didn’t come for me.”

“Oh shit... the L word. Are you... are you sure?”

“I don’t know! I just know that he’s... I care about him like I care about you, but different! He makes me feel like... like I don’t even know what! Like I’m ramblin’ and he understands it all! Like he gets every part of me! And it is so stupid, but I think I get him, too! Or at least I did! Cause I was sure he was coming, and then he didn’t.”

“I’m guessin’ Davey didn’t tell ya yet.”

“Tell me what?”

“Spot sent over a kid to say he’s comin’ next time, so... I guess your boy is comin’ for ya.”

“...yeah. I guess he is.”

“I guess you’ll get a chance to see if he feels the same, but... Hey, listen. I gotta go, okay? I got a man to see. Do ya need me to stay for a bit?”

“Nah, it’s... it’s fine. Thanks, Jack.”

...

“Hey, Jack, ya got a minute?”

“Oh, sure, Mike. Davey, mind if I step away for a second?”

“Is this something that needs to be a secret?”

“No. No, it ain’t a secret. It’s just... Ike didn’t come in tonight, and I knows he ain’t in the Refuge, cause the Refuge is gone, but what if he’s hurtin’ somewhere? He didn’t tell me he was gonna—“

“Mike, buddy, it’s okay. Calm down. We know where he is.”

“Ya do?”

“He came by and said he was gonna spend some time in Brooklyn.”

“Yeah, it’s late enough that he’s probably spending the night. I don’t know Spot Conlon that well, but he doesn’t seem like the type to let a kid walk all the way back here after dark.”

“He ain’t—you’re right. Look, if he don’t come to the circulation gate tomorrow, then we’ll worry. For now, Ike’s almost certainly fine.”

“You’d think he’d remember to tell his brother when he goes places. That shithead.”

“Language!”

“Davey, everybody curses ‘round here. Includin’ you, come to think of it.”

“I know, but... damn. I’m becoming my mother.”

...

“Jack... can we talk? Alone?”

“Sure, Kath. What’s up?”

“There’s no good way to say this... we need to end this. You and me.”

“...what?”

“Jack, I’m sorry, but... I don’t love you. Not like that. You’re a wonderful friend—don’t get me wrong—but I don’t love you. I never did. I just didn’t realize it because besides Bill and Darcy, I’ve never really had any friends. You were the first friend I’ve made in a long time, and... and now that I’ve gotten some time to be better friends with the others, I’m realizing that what we had was never real.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No. I... I guess I was attracted to you, at first, but that faded without me realizing it a long time ago. And I know saying this is hurting you, but... Jack, it wouldn’t be fair to either of us for me to pretend I still want to be with you when I don’t. The fact is, neither of us is what the other really needs. And honestly, I don’t think you ever really loved me, either, and... and if you’re with me, you won’t find that person out there who you will love. I have no doubt that you’ll find someone to love who loves you the way you deserve, Jack.”

“Don’t worry about it, Kath.”

“I really am so sorry. I hope we can still be friends.”

“We can be. Don’t worry about it.”

...

“Hey, Jack? Wait, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Buttons. What is it?”

“It’s nothin’. I can go ask Davey.”

“Ask Davey what?”

“Jack, it’s nothin’ you need to worry ‘bout. You’re clearly not doin’ so well due to the breakup, and—“

“I’m fine, Buttons! Seriously! What is it?”

“It’s just... I didn’t earn enough today to buy my papes tomorrow. Ya know—winter is rough on everyone. I was gonna ask ya to ask around if anyone can spare anythin’, but I can go ask—“

“Ya don’t have to ask Davey. I’ll do it.”

...

“Shh, shh, kid, it’s okay. You’re safe. Everything’s gonna be okay, okay? You’re okay. You’re safe, here.”

“Jack, what’s going on?”

“Oh, crap. I’m sorry, Dave. This is a crappy night for this to happen, bein’ your first night sleepin’ over at the Lodging House, but I can handle this. It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

“Blink? Blink, are you okay?”

“He’s still... not really here. It’ll take some time for him to get back, but you don’t have to stay up. I can handle it by myself. Really, Davey.”

“That doesn’t mean you should have to. Blink, do you want me to leave?”

“...no.”

“Okay. Okay, I won’t. It’s okay, Blink. You’re safe. You’re in the Manhattan Lodging House. Me and Jack are right here, okay?”

“We’re both right here for you.”

...

“Specs, what the hell happened to you? Davey! Davey, get in here, and bring some bandages!”

“What’s wro—oh my God!”

“It ain’t the worst that’s happened, Jack, and you know it.”

“Yeah, that don’t mean I gotta like it. Was it..?”

“Some shitheads who didn’t like me bein’ darker-skinned than them? Yeah. I’ll survive, though.”

“You know how wrong that is, right Specs?”

“Well, obviously, Davey. I’m the one who got soaked.”

“Where are they?”

“Davey—“

“Where are they? I get enough shit for being Jewish that I know a bit of what he’s goin’ through, Jack. And people like that—“

“Gettin’ soaked by a bunch of guys bigger than you won’t solve nothin’, Davey. And believe me, that is all that’ll happen if you go after them.”

“Fine. At least stay in bed tomorrow and rest up. I’ll sell extra to make up you missing.”

“I’ll help. Romeo probably will, too.”

“Thanks, Jack. Thanks, Davey.”

“Thank us after we patch you up.”

...

“If ya tell anyone about this, Jackie Boy, you won’t live long enough to see me deny it.”

“Relax, Spot. I ain’t tellin’ anyone. How’d ya wind up with a dislocated shoulder, anyway?”

“That’s my business. Are ya gonna fix it or not?”

“Oh, I’m gonna. It’ll hurt less if it’s a surprise, though, so’s we gotta talk about somethin’ else. Um... so, you and Racer?”

“...yeah, I guess.”

“That is so weird to think about. I never would have seen that one coming. I don’t need to tell you that if ya hurt him, Manhattan’ll go to war, right?”

“I ain’t gonna hurt him.”

“You’d better not.”

“I’m serious. I ain’t gonna—ah!”

“There. Your shoulder’s fixed. You’re welcome. And... you’s got real feelins’ for Race, don’t ya?”

“...maybe.”

“Good. Cause I‘s known Race a long time, and he fakes half his smiles. But the ones he gets when he talks to me ‘bout you are always real. He’s got it bad for ya, Conlon. You’d better not break him.”

“I won’t. Ever. Cause... cause maybe I’ve got it bad for him, too. But if ya ever tell him or anyone else I told you that—“

“I know, I know. I’ll be dead by midnight. My lips are sealed.”

“They’d better be. So... you and Walkin’ Mouth?”

“What?!”

...

“Where did you learn to braid, Jack?”

“Well, it was a long time ago, but I did have a mother once upon a time, Sarah.”

“Oh my God, I’m so—“

“It’s fine. I don’t talk about her much, but she’s been gone long enough that it don’t hurt so much. And ya know, when Smalls first got here, she had this super long hair that she needed to keep out of the way, ‘fore she asked Crutchie to cut it. Somebody had to help her.”

“Oh. That’s nice of you.”

“So, Sarah...”

“Jack?”

“I was wonderin’... I ran into Spot Conlon a while back, and he mentioned some things about... do Davey and me act like we’s together?”

“You’re kidding me.”

“No..?”

“I thought you were together! I just assumed Davey wasn’t telling me about it because... well, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to be together? With Davey?”

“...I don’t know.”

“Well, I’d suggest figuring that out, cause David’s always had a stick up his ass, and I’ve never seen him relax the way he does with you. You make him feel free to be... Davey.”

“You’re sayin’ he wants to be with me?!”

“God, Kelly. You really are oblivious. Yes, you stupid cowboy. So finish this braid and go get him.”

...

“Jackie, can you sit down? Please?”

“I can’t, Davey. I gotta—“

“Everyone’s accounted for. Well, except Race, but Jojo said he saw him headed towards Brooklyn earlier. He’s probably spending the night and forgot to tell us.”

“The dishes—“

“It was Romeo’s turn and I made sure he did ‘em hours ago.”

“Specs—“

“I checked his ribs again this afternoon and he’s healing fine. Everyone’s fine, Jackie. Sit down.”

“...thanks, Davey.”

“You’re welcome. I think you forget sometimes that everybody needs somebody to lean on occasionally, even you.”

“I ain’t been leanin’ on anyone since I was... since I started leadin’ Manhattan.”

“And everyone leans on you. I know. You like knowin’ they’re all safe and happy, but who makes sure you’re safe and happy? Nobody—that’s the answer, so don’t try to argue it. So I guess it’s gotta be me. If no one else, I guess I’m the one you can lean on.”

#newsies #javid #javey #david jacobs #jack kelly #dad friend jack kelly #big brother jack kelly #background spromeo #background sprace #background blush #violet’s writing

64 notes · View notes