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periminkle · 4 years

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Orphic | 02

After moving into your own place, it seems life is finally going your way; the path to independence leading you to a quaint suburban town where even the grass seems to grow a little greener. Although a shocking encounter leads you to believe that perhaps appearances can be quite deceiving.

pairing: hybrid!jk x reader (first person)

genre: hybrid au, angst, fluff

word count: 7.0k

rating: PG-15

warnings: animal cruelty, death, blood, swearing

author’s note: I cut this chapter into two parts bc it was turning into a monster :((( i did try to research DNA and genes and all that fancy stuff but it was too much for my small brain, so beware of inaccurate facts!!! also wanted to say that my heart hurt writing this </3

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The light breeze fluttering through the back door enveloped the bare skin of my legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

I couldn’t recall the last time I lounged around the house in the morning—not flurrying around like a chicken with its head cut off, in a rush to catch the bus. If it wasn’t work then it was grocery shopping, borrowing articles and studies from the library or filling my car’s empty gas.

Consequently, I refused to change out of the oversized sweater and the lousy pair of bright yellow shorts that currently adorned my laden figure. With any luck, the comfort from the soft articles of cloth would somehow seep into my mental state as well.

Yet the optimistic notion wasn’t proving its validity thus far, becoming a more of a burden due to the lack of a proper barrier between my humble abode and the wilderness outside.

For the most part, the structure of the door was left unharmed but the handle containing the lock that had been smashed into was another matter completely. Upon further examination, accompanied by an hour of fiddling around with the busted latch, it seemed to be a problem beyond my capabilities. I reluctantly admitted defeat and ordered a replacement.

With nothing to secure the door to the adjacent wall, it remained slightly ajar.

Another hour whizzed by, scouring through the limited resources at my disposal to—at the very least—find a temporary fix. I tried taping it shut, propping a chair, a step stool and a table up against the remainder of the handle to no avail.

A stroke of genius hit when I stuck a command hook on the wall nearby, fastening a broken hairband from the latch to the hook. However, the placement of the hook was a little too close and the hairband a little too loose to keep the occasional draft from finding its way inside. My fluffy pokémon shorts provided meager defence at best, but I could hardly spare a thought to the lower temperature when my mind was fully occupied with more urgent matters.

After the run-in yesterday night, I remained by the fridge, shaken from the events that had transpired for longer than I’d like to admit. I was unsure if the familiar sylvan scent that lingered was a result of the stranger or simply a waft from the forest, which wasn’t unlikely, considering my defective door.

Once I’d finally gotten a hold of myself, I dialled the police, doubting that my shaky limbs could safely carry me to the nearest station at such an hour. Other than an aching wrist and some medical supplies that could be restocked, my physical well-being and that of my house were surprisingly fine.

Excluding my poor back door, of course.

I was rather fortunate that the robbery, if stealing bandages could even be labelled as such, was more mentally taxing than anything. The drops of blood were rather annoying to clean off my tiles too, I guess.

Trying to get any rest that night was fruitless, tossing and turning, worried that the man might return for something more valuable or another fiend finding his way inside to do worse.

It struck me as more than a little odd that he would come to my tiny cottage, of all places, for first aid supplies. If he wasn’t looking for some extra coins to pocket, why wouldn’t he go to the hospital? Where had he gotten a wound that couldn’t be treated by a doctor? Maybe he had partaken in various illegal activities that couldn’t warrant the suspicion of a governmental figure? Ugh, my brain hurt the more I thought about it.

Along with my raging thoughts, the perpetual feeling of being watched disturbed my slumber as well. It was if another set of eyes were locked on my vulnerable form, peering past the closed blinds and under the protective layers of blankets I’d piled on. No matter how many times I peeked into the darkness though, I was only met with the sight of my backyard enshrouded in the night sky.

When the rays of dawn broke through the tenebrosity, I abandoned any notion of sleep and hesitantly called Jin, unsure if the busy man was even conscious yet. His bright and cheery voice quelled my worries and I informed him of what had transpired within the past twelve hours. Relief flooded my lethargic frame as he delved into a crazed panic, which I greatly appreciated, accepting his offer to take a day off.

Jin was excessively sympathetic and compassionate, reminding me of a mother goose with how he squabbled over staying somewhere else for the time being and taking a week-long break. But I didn’t want to be a burden on any of my new friends and going back to the city wasn’t an option at this point. Reflecting on the matter for more than day wasn’t necessary either.

I haughtily believed that the criminal didn’t deserve any more free real estate in my mind than he’d already occupied.

In order to comprehend the situation, as well as the fact that I would be utterly useless if I went to work with my mind engrossed in other matters, I thought one day to digest everything and get it out of my system would suffice. Though I knew it would come more so with time, I also had to work on regaining an impression of security within my own walls.

To take a rest from my turbulent concerns, I made a trip to one of the populated parks within the small town, figuring that I would feel more safety in the numbers that would surround me. Ridiculously, I found myself stumped when I got there, drowning in my own vulnerability, so I promptly headed back.

At nightfall, I skipped out on meeting with the cat yet again. Evidently, I lacked the mental capability to tend to my own needs the day before, never mind another being, thus I didn’t visit the little guy. I felt a wash of regret and worry that I hadn’t even set out some food. As a result of yesterday’s blunder, I put a heaping mass of tuna on the porch this time, hoping the animal would understand my apology.

The hours flew by as I sat there, stirring in my own solitude. In order to bring the negativity of the day to an end, I invited the trio I’d gotten close to as of recent, although Jin adamantly refused due to his papers that, “wouldn’t write themselves.”

I took the steaming pot of ramen off the stovetop right as the clear ring of the doorbell resounded throughout the cramped place. Hastily, I placed the noodles onto the table with careful hands, grimacing as I realized it took up a bit more than a quarter of the surface.

With a brisk shuffle, I pulled open my front door to the sight of a disgruntled Yoongi, hidden behind the towering stature of a rosy-nosed Namjoon. I barely made out the mutterings of, “it’s freezing out here,” and “took you long enough,” before I was being shoved aside.

As they trudged over to the kitchen, following the scent of freshly cooked ramen wafting around the house, Yoongi scoffed at my tiny table. Since I only purchased two chairs for the space, I cracked open the step stool to act as another seat. I honestly wasn’t sure what I would have done if Jin had tagged along too. Maybe pulled out the ladder too?

The shorter man grabbed the handles of the pot, heading over to the direction of the living room as Namjoon and I trailed after him like baby ducks. “If we’re going to eat like poor college students then we might as well keep up the act and sit on the floor.”

Although Yoongi’s cold and distant facade perplexed me as I was getting to know him, eventually I picked up on the hints of affection he’d drop every once in a while. Mostly, I found that I was able to burn time fooling around with Taemin as he completed enough drudgery for the both of us or a piping hot mug of hot chocolate would be waiting for me in the break room after long hours.

Even now, though he acted irritated, I knew Yoongi well enough to decipher his true intentions: that he was trying to be considerate of my humble living conditions and opted to play it off as a joke. At this point, I was even inclined to believe he harboured a soft spot for me.

In response, I pretended to be peeved by his actions as I ambled back to gather the bowls and utensils I placed at the table, carrying them to the spot we’d occupied on the floor. It was difficult to hide the growing smile on my face.

Once I’d gotten a few drinks down my throat, I finally felt the tense muscles between my brows and shoulder blades relax, forgetting about the worries that echoed in my head all day.

The TV screen flashed with the intense scenes of an action movie that Namjoon had picked out. I was only half paying attention to the redundant plot line, more interested in the outrageous story spewing from Namjoon’s lips.

“-and now he’s bragging about how one of his puns got milk spilling out of Yoongi’s nose!”

The tipsy state I was in got me laughing harder than I should have, but with both men around me in a relatively similar state of mind, no one seemed to care.

“That’s literal bullshit, Eunmi told me that I was drinking the milk meant for Taemin right when Jin finished telling his dumb joke,” Yoongi complained despite the gummy smile stretching across his features.

I clutched my chest at the mention of one of the creatures who had stolen my heart, “aw, my pretty little Taem, I miss him so much and it’s only been one day!”

“You’re getting too attached to him Y/N, you know that he’s not gonna stay at the lab forever,” Namjoon lightly warned. I knew he was concerned for my emotional welfare, but even the mention of Taemin being taken away got me stewing in my own misery.

“Joon, why would you say—I don’t even want to think about that!” My inebriated state obviously enjoyed to spill more information than necessary when I stated, “I need to cuddle Taemin enough for the both of them.”

“Both?” The younger man spared a questioning glance at his companion in before turning back to me, “do you have a cat?” The two of them began scoping out the area, trying to locate the nonexistent bundle of fur.

“Oh no, no, I wish I could afford a pet but I think taking care of myself is challenging enough for now.” At their probing eyes, I continued, “I was just talking about a little kitty that visits me every night in my backyard.”

Yoongi’s dark eyebrows scrunched together, a huff escaping him. “If you’re talking about a domestic cat, there’s no way it would be living out there,” he pointed to the forest outside with a tilt of his chin.

With the shake of my head, I felt myself sober up a bit as I explained, “I think it’s just one of my neighbours’ pets.”

Namjoon and Yoongi stared at each other, appearing baffled. “Well, it’s definitely not Eunhyuk, his son is allergic.”

“But you think mean old Sangmin would have a cat? We’re talking about the same guy who refused to have kids because he’s ‘not a bank’ right?”

Namjoon redirected his attention to me. “Are you sure it’s a cat? Maybe you just saw a rat or something.”

“No, it can’t be...” Their insistent refusal planted seeds of doubt that began to fester the longer I thought about it; they both lived here for longer than I had and obviously knew the area much better as well. It wasn’t like I had the best eyesight, anyway. But I remembered the piercing emerald green irises peering back at me, slit pupils honed in on my form with vibrant clarity. “It’s definitely a cat. It has to be a cat.”

A teasing snort came from Yoongi, who was leaning back on his palms with disbelief written all over his face. “You’re just seeing things, Y/N.”

I pouted at their lack of trust in me. An aggressive urge to prove them wrong began bubbling in the pit of my stomach and with a glimpse of the time from the clock above the stove, I noticed that it was well into midnight—around the hour in which I’d meet the kitty.

“Yeah, well, if you don’t believe me you can come see for yourself.”

“Is it outside?” I revelled in the satisfaction Namjoon’s widened eyes brought me and loftily smirked at him.

The plentiful amount of alcohol I’d indulged in forbade my legs from gracefully standing, wobbling like a newborn fawn instead as I fumbled over to the door, slipping the loose hair tie off and yanking the faulty mass open. Strangely, the night air was deathly silent, even the usually chirpy crickets seeming to have migrated to another yard.

“Hey, buddy. You out there?” I mumbled, scanning the bushes nearby, trying to pick up even the faintest flutter. “Bud?”

When I felt two pairs of curious eyes pierce my back, the pressure skyrocketed. I couldn’t let them believe I was spouting utter nonsense earlier, but the lack of response wasn’t proving my case very well.

After a few minutes passed with only the low whistle of the wind to keep us company, I felt a tinge of worry knot itself into my belly. “Okay, that’s enough Y/N. Let’s go back in.”

“No! It’s just scared because there’s a lot of people out now, you two go back in. I’ll call you when it’s out.” Desperately, I examined every inch of the stationary woodlands.

“We believe you, just get back in here! It’s cold and you’re not wearing a jacket, come on.” Namjoon’s long fingers wrapped around my forearm, tugging on my hesitant form.

As the dark-haired male dragged me back, I caught sight of the abundant helping of tuna I’d left on the last step of the porch yesterday. A pang resounded throughout my chest, disquiet settling into the recesses of my mind. Why didn’t the creature eat the offering, was it angry that I hadn’t shown up the last few nights? I couldn’t stop myself from imagining the worst; if it got lost somewhere, collapsed from starvation or was brutally killed by another animal.

If either one of the guys noticed the unusual pile of food, they didn’t comment on it.

Once back inside, tucked into Namjoon’s comforting shoulder and Yoongi’s warm side pressed against mine, I found myself unable to focus on anything of value. It was as if all my senses had dulled to an absolute minimum, barely processing what flashed on the bright TV screen and only picking up bits and pieces of the conversation between the two males. All I could think about was what could have possibly happened to my poor kitty.

My eyelids began to droop, heavy from the weight of the last few days’ events. With my body molding itself into Namjoon’s sturdy torso, I welcomed the peaceful darkness.

Taemin’s entire body shook from the force of his tiny sneeze and I could have sworn that my heart ceased its endless beating right then and there, was I in heaven?

Unaffected by my inner turmoil, the baby jaguar started bouncing around, weaving in and out of my legs as if he was participating in his own agility competition. I crouched down to his level to reach for his lithe body. The little guy always transformed into a flurry of excitement whenever I stopped by his cage, elated that he was free to play around without his constricting muzzle.

Once I’d discovered what a sweet bean he was, I couldn’t help but comply to his wishes. It didn’t take a mind reader to see how he consistently pawed at the contraption, even clawing his face a couple times on accident.

The reasoning behind all the safety measures wasn’t lost on me though, as I had witnessed the terror he instilled in most of the staff. About a week prior, I caught Minzi trying to lure Taemin out of his cage with some treats, but all her attempts proved unsuccessful when he didn’t even spare a glance her way.

With an annoyed sigh, she reached into the pocket within her lab coat, retrieving a syringe that I knew she had filled with telazol, a tranquilizing fluid for small animals. That prompted a reaction out of Taemin, his haunches tensing and lowering towards the ground, mouth peeling back in a snarl. The low growling sound vibrating from his small body instantly put me on edge; it was the first time I’d ever seen or heard the animal’s anger.

Before I could move a muscle, the irate woman stuck the needle into his hind leg. Taemin yowled in pain, but sunk his claws into her arm when he got the chance, only able to exact his revenge for a couple seconds before his body fell limp. Minzi detched his paw to find a stream of crimson red besmirching her white coat.

Now that I thought back to it, his growl eerily reminded me of the night of the break-in. Funnily enough, I thought the criminal had the more menacing vibration between the two—and Taemin was a jaguar for god’s sake.

What I found truly inhumane was the assistant assigned to handing Taemin his meals. The callous woman didn’t have half a mind to remove his muzzle before placing a handful of dog kibble in his cage.

At a glance, Taemin appeared severely underweight for his size, but I could have never chalked it up to his nutrition being fed through the bars around his snout. He struggled to attain such inadequate portions that weren’t even created for his species in mind.

Nevertheless, the instant I’d seen his horrifying feeding conditions, I dismissed the careless assistant and took on the task of keeping Taemin alive, a job that I didn’t think someone could fail so terribly at.

Taemin blindly swiped the air, bringing me out of my reverie. I chuckled as I saw he was a just a couple centimetres off the sleeve of my coat and I brought my hand, palm turned upwards, to meet his paw.

His eyelids were shut closed as tightly as they had been the first day he’d arrived at the lab, a fact that Yoongi informed me of when I’d inquired about Taemin’s lack of sight. Neither him nor Namjoon knew why he refused to, or simply couldn’t, open his eyes and my chest ached thinking about the unfulfilling life he was leading.

The memory crushed the lighthearted atmosphere that had arisen from fooling around with the dark-coloured feline. I rubbed the fur covering his foreleg while stealing a glimpse of Yoongi, seemingly hard at work from his hunched form.

“Hey, Yoongs?”

“I thought I told you not to call me that.” The low murmur was slightly muffled from the microscope covering the entirety of his face.

Disregarding his previous statement, I voiced out my thoughts. “What if Taem can actually see? I mean, we could just check whether the PDE6C gene—”

A lengthy exhale interrupted my speech. “Wow, now I guess I know how Jin feels.”

“Listen, I know what you said before but—”

“Y/N, we have tons of gene sequences to analyze, we don’t have time to waste looking for a faulty PDE6C, okay?” He finally tore his gaze away from his work to peer into my pleading eyes, running his fingers through the strands marring his forehead. “You’re lucky I’m even letting you play around considering the amount of work we have to finish.”

At that, I shut my mouth and concentrated back on Taemin’s restless figure, a much better alternative to the DNA waiting to be analyzed at my desk. Since he was confined within his cage all day, I made it my goal to tire him out enough that he would be forced to rest until the next time I had the chance to abandon work, essentially getting paid to keep him amused.

I gently brought his paw to the floor and scurried away to collect his favourite toy; a fuzzy mouse I’d bought one day after discovering the building was devastatingly unequipped to entertain an extremely bored feline.

Although he whimpered at the loss of contact and the sound of my retreating footsteps, I swiftly grabbed the rodent at the bottom of the drawer, by Yoongi’s legs, and hurried back.

Another half hour passed as I tried to exhaust as much of Taemin’s boundless energy as I could, although my plan backfired when I found that my own strength was depleting just as quickly. His natural hunting instincts were definitely still intact, what with the torn up toy in the corner, held together by mere threads at this point. I made a mental note to go shopping for sturdier prey next time.

Presently, he laid on his side as a content, black loaf, purring from the belly rubs he was receiving. To tease the cub, I would pull away every once in a while only to have his long tail wrap around my wrist, tugging my limb back to action.

“Y/N.” My head turned to meet Namjoon who had wandered over from the assistant researcher’s lab where I’d last seen him. “I finished the sequence for his canines. Do you mind leaving it on Jin’s desk?”

I guiltily stood from my seated position, a sheepish grin plastered on as I gave one last pat to Taemin’s head. “Yeah, of course. Could you lock up Taem for me?”

With his affirmation, I took the papers from his grasp and gave a pat to the crown of Yoongi’s bleached head. He shifted towards me in feigned annoyance, but I was out of his reach before he could get back at me and I celebrated my victory with sticking my tongue out.

I began to make my way upstairs, but not before picking up on Joon’s exasperated remark to Taemin, “I hope you know that I could build you from scratch if I wanted to.”

Once in front of the familiar wood of Jin’s office door, I decided to knock in case he had guests. I restrained the awkward memory of walking in on the whole board of directors from resurfacing and distracted myself by rapping my knuckles with more force when there was no response from within. “Jin? It’s Y/N.” I pushed the handle down and pleasantly found it unlocked. “I’m coming in.”

I waited a couple more seconds before opening the door, meeting the chaos that was the assistant director’s office. As per usual, I winced at the mountain of papers piled upon his desk, astonished that it only seemed to grow since the last time I’d seen it. At this rate, I was just waiting for the day that I’d walk in here to see the towers reaching the ceiling.

Striding over to Jin’s side of the desk, I laid the notes down in the dead centre, resting on top of three separate piles. Sympathy flooded my senses as my gaze roamed across the masses. How could such a hardworking individual accumulate so much work while he was working?

Even staring at the copious amounts of print made me feel queasy, hence I hurried to get out of the nauseating area. But, as I scuttled by, my gaze caught on a file with thick, messy letters scrawled on the front.

Jaguar.

To say my curiosity was piqued whenever Taemin was involved was an understatement. After a glance back to ensure that I was able to safely snoop around until my heart’s content, I reached for the file, making sure to keep my posterior to the camera in the corner, concealing my actions.

Ultimately, I knew Taemin was brought in to make progress on their “top secret, strictly confidential experiment,” which meant that I wasn’t to touch any of his files. At least, according to the brusque Minzi I wasn’t. However, an underlying, devious part of me enjoyed rebelling against her words and I secretly rejoiced as I directly disobeyed her orders, opening the folder.

Basic information was scattered along the first page, his name, birthdate, birthplace, so on and so forth. I casually flipped through the rest, finding the documents we routinely handed off to Jin when we’d written down sequences that brought about certain genes concerning the jaguar. This was probably where Jin would store the note Namjoon had made me deliver.

Losing interest, I flipped the bulk of the papers back to the front and seamlessly slid them into the file. When I unintentionally skimmed the first page once again, my eyes caught on a baffling sentence.

Heightened sense of sight, especially keen night vision.

I wet my suddenly chapped lips in my state of bafflement, double and triple checking that the file was indeed for seemingly blind Taemin; the very same animal that was probably napping downstairs. The statistics even matched up with what little knowledge I had about the animal, sending me into a greater spiral of confusion. They must have accidentally written the observation down on the wrong paper.

Unless...?

I shook my head, trying to dispel the outrageous thoughts swarming my mind.

Heading back down, I caught sight of Yoongi still wrapped around his microscope, jotting notes down with his other hand. My attention shifted to the unconscious feline next, muzzled and locked behind bars.

My fists clenched, fingernails engraving crescents into the palm of my hand as I resolved to finally clear out these murky waters.

An hour passed before I finally located it and then another few hours slipped by as I examined the sequence.

The PDE6C gene on chromosome ten. Perfectly intact and working exceptionally until the halfway point, around the thousandth base. Some of the letters got mixed up, binding with incorrect base pairs and bestowing Taemin with his current lack of vision.

Of course, I was prepared to deal with the repercussions of wasting precious time, examining a sequence that did not correlate to any favourable gene. But after connecting some dots, I recognized the agent that brought about such errors.

Ethyl methanesulfonate, or EMS for short. A chemical mutagenic that induces base substitutions, mutating the DNA molecule as a result. I couldn’t imagine why they’d inject a carcinogenic compound into the mammal, but it obviously had something to do with trying to enhance his natural vision.

Did they think the possibility of disabling him was worth the slim chance that his eyesight could improve? By the bases that were effected, I guessed that they were trying to sharpen his sight when submerged in darkness. If the guanine alkylation hadn’t spread so far, they might have succeeded in their experiment.

Nevertheless, their hypothesis was dreadfully incorrect and Taemin was blind as a result of their recklessness.

My grip on the pencil tightened in pure, white fury. In the fruitless hope that the EMS hadn’t affected his whole body, I took several samples of cells from various areas of his body. Albeit, samplings of his cheeks, ears and legs all provided the same conclusion that I’d reached earlier—deformed DNA from ill-fitting base pairs.

All the blood drained from my face from the appalling notion of just how much EMS they must have injected into his blood stream for it to have tampered with every cell in his body. My jaw clenched as my mouth ran bone dry.

They mutilated him.

Digust washed over me, for the false claims that the lab protected their lab animals, for every ruthless employee that harboured such barbaric morals, for myself, who blindly assisted in the cruel methods of this place. My heart rate picked up at my own helplessness, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I scrambled out of the corner I had holed myself up in.

I didn’t know if it was the bruising despair or the fuming rage that had me stomping my way across the halls, headed for the director’s office. The rational part of me was aware of the fact that I couldn’t do anything, change their twisted morals or bring down that metaphorical sword of justice that I was so fixated on. But that didn’t mean I had to play along as a clueless, complaisant pawn in their gruesome experiments.

Keycard or not, I was determined to wreak havoc until I could properly screech obscenities at one of the incredibly asinine brains that ran this revolting laboratory. Storming past the Namjoon and Yoongi’s office, I picked up on a shrill cry that seemed to douse my whole body in ice water, stopping me in my tracks.

A turn to my right gave me a direct view of Minzi struggling to pull a semi-conscious Taemin out of his cage, arms which he desperately wriggled against, thrashing violently to escape her hold. Now knowing what malicious behaviour deserved such treatment from kind-hearted Taemin, I rushed at her.

“How could you!” I roared, seeing red when she turned, glaring condescendingly.

Her calculated eyes examined my rapidly approaching, ruffled figure. “Oh, good, I needed a coffee. Could you fetch me a tranquilizer while you’re at it? I didn’t think he would wake up.”

I grit my teeth as my temper flared, resentment embedded into each of my features. Stopping a step away from her unbothered form, I seethed out, “you guys claim to look after the lab animals? Then why would you permanently damage his genes!”

“What have you been wasting time on instead of researching what we told you to?”

“Answer the question!”

She sneers. “I thought I warned you to stay out of anything that doesn’t concern you. That includes any testing subjects.”

“Testing subjects? How the hell do you think you can get away with—”

“Woah, what’s all the ruckus here?” Hyunho’s lazy form strolled in with a lax yet domineering countenance. The appearance of the other head researcher made my hair stand on end. “Do we need to put up a sign to remind some people that they’re to use indoor voices inside a laboratory?”

My eyes quickly narrowed at his patronizing remark. “I don’t know what kind of fucked up project you guys are conducting, but if you’re harming innocent animals, I don’t want any part of your imbecilic research.”

“Ooh, it seems that newbie is a feisty one, isn’t she?” He took a step towards me, the scent of a cigarette he probably smoked earlier invading my senses and invoking an appealing urge to regurgitate my dinner all over him. “Listen here girly, I don’t know what you’re trying to accuse us of here, but I’ll be sure to report your unruly behaviour to the director if you keep this shit up.”

“As if I give a flying fu—”

A hand wrapped around my mouth before I could unleash the rest of my resentful spew. “Ah, Dr. Lee.” I recognized the subtle undertone of panic in Namjoon’s deep voice as he addressed the burly man with respect that he didn’t deserve. “You see, Y/N had a pretty rough day, some family matters back home, y’know? I’m just going to take her outside to clear her head a little.”

“Yes, that would be a good idea.” Hyunho stepped back to Minzi’s side.

“If you would excuse us then...” I flailed about in Namjoon’s sturdy hold before he all but manhandled my to the back entrance. The refreshingly cool air grazing my overheated skin quelled some of my fury, although I felt its presence simmering beneath the surface. The tall man released my trembling limbs and I whipped my head over to examine Namjoon’s concerned countenance.

Did he know?

I couldn’t bear the thought of any of the limited friends I’d made in this place willingly taking part in such horrid research. They couldn’t have known. My heavy head fell into my hands, thinking of innocent Taemin who didn’t merit the attention of these corrupt individuals, who had no one to protect him.

If I quit my job here, would anyone care for him? Obviously his basic needs would be met, Namjoon and Yoongi would make sure of that, but were they aware of what exactly that experiment entailed? I’d only scratched the surface, but the prospect of finding out every gritty detail terrified me.

I felt an overwhelming weight crushed me, being helpless beneath it all. “Joon,” I managed to croak out, “I didn’t come here for this.”

With the low volume of my voice, I didn’t know how much he’d heard, but a tug on my wrist enveloped my body into his embrace. As he stroked my head reassuringly, I held onto his thin lab coat with clenched fists.

If it meant I could save Taemin, I would keep my mouth shut. If it meant I could act as some salvation to each animal that came into this wretched place, I would stay.

My disgust for the laboratory only multiplied.

“I didn’t come here for this.”

A pleasant tranquility took shape after a brief greeting had been exchanged, both Jin and I on a well-deserved break after too much time cooped up in our respective offices. Well, even though the assistant researchers’ office wasn’t technically mine in title, the majority of my belongings resided in that space. Namjoon didn’t mind much and Yoongi complained about everything under the sun, so I made myself comfortable there.

The hum of electricity powering the building and the whirr of the coffee maker spurring into action intensified as I closed my eyes, resting my head against the back of the sofa. I stared up at the ceiling with a vacant expression and tried to clear my thoughts for a bit.

A ceramic mug clinked against the surface of the coffee table in front of me. “Drink.” I lifted my head to take in the reassuring crinkle in Jin’s eyes. “You look like you’ll need all the energy you can get right now.”

I scoffed at his statement, the end of my own lips flitting upwards. “Just tell me I look like shit.”

Gratefully accepting the cup of coffee, the bitter taste on my tongue already started to rejuvenate my aching muscles. Jin was aware of my deep-seated aversion to the drink, but I guess my appearance revealed too much of the chaos inside my head. “I was going to, but I had a feeling you might just break down if I did.”

Although the work itself was tedious and relatively tiring on its own, the fact that all my efforts were going to fuel that wretched project made me feel rotten to the core. The knowledge sapped my stamina at an exponential rate that I wasn’t accustomed to.

“How’s baby Yeri doing?” I placed the pungent beverage back down, stroking my chin in faux deliberation. “Or I guess I should ask how Chaeyoung is holding up instead, huh?”

Jin let out a hum of aggravation around his own glass, swallowing the liquid before slapping his unoccupied hand against his thigh. “Don’t even get me started. Chaeyoung keeps telling me to take some time off work to come help, but honestly I would take the peace and quiet of the office over Yeri’s nasty diapers any day.” He shook his head at the thought, repulsed by the dealing with another one of Yeri’s accidents.

I’d heard the story one too many times not to let a giggle slip at his misfortune.

Abruptly, an alarming shriek disturbed the placidity. As my head shot up to identify the source, the sound was muffled, then silence resumed. I scrambled to discern who the perpetrator was when my gaze met Jin’s static form. “Did you hear that?” When his weary eyes met mine, appearing confused, I clarified, “that scream.”

“Oh, they probably just dropped something. Don’t worry too much about it.” But I couldn’t find a trace of compassion in his words, especially with how gut-wrenching the shout sounded. Rather than shock, every note was filled with agony and something felt vaguely off about the whole ordeal.

The look of guilt that Jin sported stopped me from prodding. I refused to believe the stubborn man who was always drowning in papers to complete, shoving fried chicken down his throat like there was no tomorrow, who had the sweetest daughter back at home knew anything about the experiment. Not what was really happening.

That’s why the regret and shame written all over his countenance made me pause.

More shuffling, whimpers and yelps filled my limbs with apprehension, seeping deep into my bones and making me restless. Jin kept his gaze trained on the floor, unable to look me in the eye as he excused each sound with the fault of a clumsy, irresponsible researcher and other rationalizations that I wasn’t sure he, himself, believed.

At this point, the raucous was becoming increasingly bestial and I couldn’t decipher the species that was belting out the miserable noises. I tried to grit my teeth and ignore them, distracting myself with Jin’s moronic cover-ups to keep me glued to my spot. Without a keycard, I had no access to the upstairs lab anyway, it was out of my hands for now.

When my thoughts strayed to Taemin though, I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach, recalling how I had been dragged away before I could stop Minzi from taking him. Suddenly, I lost the ability to think logically, fixated on Taemin’s well-being. I had to know if it was him.

Hastily, I jumped out of my seat, coffee long forgotten as I sprinted down the hall. Jin’s pounding footsteps followed after me, though I gave them no mind.

Once I reached the first floor, the sight of two unfamiliar men dressed in heavy gear greeted me. The bulkier of the two lifted the cage as if it were as light as a feather and I noticed how unusually clean it was. “No, you can’t take it upstairs!” I grabbed onto the bars, halting him in his tracks. “Where is he? Tell them to bring him back here!”

“Sorry, no can do miss,” he drawled out. “We were asked to—”

“I don’t care what you were asked to do! Tell them to bring him back!” He rolled his eyes at my accusatory tone and yanked the cage out of my grasp. As I reached out again in a frenzy, the other man blocked my path. The odds weren’t looking too great for me.

I saw Jin emerge from the staircase, following the ruckus I’d created. Relief flooded my veins as I sought his backup. “Jin, they want to take his cage.” Pursing my lips, I pointed to said object. “Could you tell them to leave it here?”

“No, Y/N. Get out of the way.” My breath hitched at Jin’s steely tone, locking onto his fatigued gaze. I tried to remind myself that he was oblivious to the horrors that they’d already inflicted upon Taemin, but the back of my eyes still burned at the betrayal I felt. “Come on, let them do their job.”

Though I refused to show how dismayed I’d become, I couldn’t bear the idea of Taemin residing upstairs, where they could inject anything without suspicion. “Please, Jin. Please. Believe me when I say that he won’t last a day up there.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, let’s go finish our coffee, hm?” I huffed out through my nostrils in frustration, wringing my fingers together as I debated whether or not to tell him the truth I discovered for myself not too long ago.

“Oh, my. What’s this? I believe I told you what would happen if you caused a commotion again, didn’t I?” Feeling defeated already, I didn’t even turn to meet Hyunho’s form as I heard him approach. “I’ll need you to get out of the way now, girly.”

“It’s Y/N.”

His fake grin put his crooked teeth on full display. “Yes, yes. Scurry along now.”

“No.” With a hardened resolve, I glared back at him. “Bring Taemin back. Let him stay on this floor.” Hesitant but desperate, I added a barely audible, “please.”

At my plea, he brightened up, utterly pleased with watching me grovel at his feet. “You should use that tone more often, newbie, it could really get you places.” The stealthy once-over of my chest didn’t go unnoticed by me and I wrapped the lab coat around me tighter. He pulled back a little, satisfied with my discomfort. "You didn’t hear? He died of natural causes, so we have to clean up this mess for the new tiger cub coming in. Don’t worry though, he’ll be staying on this floor when he gets here.”

I took a step back, skin stinging as if he’d slapped me across the face, feeling my blood run cold. Out of the corner of my eye, I noted the bewilderment reflected on Jin’s features, as well as the sudden appearance of Namjoon and Yoongi, both looking as distressed as I felt.

When my breaths came in heavier and burning droplets rolled down my cheeks, I knew the dam had broken. “Don’t feed me that bullshit... You monsters.” I felt my bottom lip quiver as my voice cracked. “Killed him.”

One of Hyunho’s thick eyebrows raised in amusement at my shattered state. “Haven’t you been taught not to mess with fire, girly?” He crossed his arms after giving a flick of dismissal to the man still carrying the cage. “You could get burned.”

A pair of arms wrapped around my torso and dragged me away before I could wail anything out. Through the blurry mess of tears, I made out a discarded, mangled mouse toy by the corner.

tags: @aurorakingsley @bubbletae7 @iamunrecognized @bangtanloverrrrr @walkingdeadfan25

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook hybrid au #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagine

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.11

Persona

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2) x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?) Word count: 3400

Summary: Arrival to NYC is not what neither the Winchesters nor you expected. Like… not even in your wildest dreams.

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood and death, amnesia, swearing... that’s enough, I think, oh and confused Moose and Squirell (it’s a... reference)

Story masterlist

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Natasha slept like a baby – or like a dead. Sam didn’t find either of those options comforting. He couldn’t say he wasn’t glad Rowena had assisted them – but he would also be lying if he claimed to be happy about their particular ‘ally’ on this case.

While Dean’s eyes were glued to the road, Sam’s kept flickering between Natasha’s torso, always making sure she was still breathing, and his tablet, where he had started a search. Manhattan was surely a smaller place than the whole world, but it still had over million and half residents and finding Natasha’s soulmate wouldn’t be easy in the slightest.

He was still searching police databases for missing person cases and for house fires and gas explosions. The only problem was, he had no time frame to search – with Dean, it took three months for him to be resurrected and while his particular case had rather different circumstances (with angels having to fight their way through literal Hell and the whole Righteous Man versus apocalypse thing), Sam had no clue when exactly Natasha died.

It could have been the same day Castiel had brought her to them as well as months ago, years even. It wasn’t helping they still didn’t have her name and didn’t know the circumstances.

In other words, they didn’t have jack squat. Then again, Natasha believed her soulmate was a man, probably around her age – that would narrow down the search then. If they failed, they could always try to create her a tinder account and see who would super-like her.

Sam huffed in irritation and amusement, happy that Dean was pulling over. His legs might have been dying for the past few minutes.

“Where are we?” he hummed, cracking his neck.

Dean tuned down the volume before answering – and really, if the loud music hadn’t woken up Natasha, something must have been seriously wrong, Rowena’s magic messing her up on a level eleven on a ten points scale.

“Harrison, New Jersey. About an hour drive to Manhattan. Figured we would be no good in the overpriced hotels in the city, especially with her like this. Plus, I’m hungry,” Dean replied honestly and Sam raised one corner of his lips in a half-grin.

“Fair enough.” Dean opened the door, climbing up. Sam looked around, confused, not seeing any hotel, only a diner, and it got him get out of the car with an exasperated whisper-yell. “Where do you think you’re going? We can’t just leave her here!”

“Oh, we don’t. You’re staying, I’m getting food,” Dean grinned at him cockily, earning Sam’s famous ‘I’m-so-done-with-you-jerk’ face. “I might get you something too, Sammy.”

“Get something to Natasha too, in case she wakes up any time soon,” Sam growled, but obediently folded his long legs back to the car, casting a glance over his shoulder at their last passenger. “Jerk, isn’t he?”

Naturally, Natasha didn’t even stir, let alone reply.

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She didn’t regain consciousness until late night. When she did, she seemed to be convinced this was what hangover felt like – neither of the brothers opposed her. She ate two good portions of dinner, drank a litre of water and passed out again, absolutely exhausted.

“I don’t even wanna know what she would have looked like if Rowena drained her as much as she wanted to,” Dean noted darkly and Sam silently agreed, ready to hit the hay too.

“You think she’s safe to be left on her own?”

“You mean if she dies in her sleep? I wouldn’t worry about that now,” Dean shrugged light-heartedly, patting her calf that slipped out from between the covers. She didn’t seem to mind – or notice for that matter. “We might leave the bathroom light on so she wouldn’t crash into something when waking up groggy like before, but I think she’s good now. Get some sleep.”

Sam casted a glance at Natasha’s peaceful face, watching her form moving ever so slightly as her chest was rising and falling regularly. He sighed and made his way to the bathroom, humming in vague agreement. He was still going to set an alarm for every two hours to check up on her.

Funnily enough, Dean’s phone woke him up sooner as they had got the same idea. Sam snorted in amusement as Dean seemed ashamed for being caught caring for their protégé.

The next time Sam woke up, it was only due to his alarm at four a.m. About an hour later, he was snapped from his dreams by Natasha’s loud cursing as her shin met the nightstand; they had forgotten to leave the light in the bathroom on.

Well. At least she was alive and clearly alright enough to walk and talk.

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“So… what happens now?” Natasha asked the burning question as she finished her croissant and fruit.

Sam had been the one to go grocery shopping this time, adding apples to the cart. Dean had been mockingly disgusted, but Natasha seemed ecstatic, discovering she liked red apples better then green ones. It was adorable and Sam felt an uncomfortable pang near his heart when he realized what a little thing like this meant to her, an amnesiac.

He truly wished he had better news for her in a form of some masterplan. The true was they weren’t sure about their next step.

“Now we go to explore the island of Manhattan,” Dean shrugged, causing Natasha to tilt her head and squint.

“Okay…? How is that going to help?”

Dean made a face. “You women are so hard to please sometimes…”

Sam snorted, but quickly fixed his expression when Natasha’s eyes fell on him. He smiled at her tightly with a bit of guilt.

“We’re not sure how to proceed to be honest. Police station is an option, but I searched their databases – they probably won’t have any more luck than I did.”

“Oh,” she said only, her voice sad, her hopeful expression falling. “Can’t you like… eh, post my face on the internet or something? Could that help?”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek, the one ridiculous idea popping up in his head again. He glanced at the woman, her eyes full of steadfast trust in them.

Sam cleared his throat, uneasy sensation in his stomach.

“Well… I actually thought of creating you a Tinder account-“

“Dude!” Dean cried out, exasperated. “You don’t mean that!”

“I’m sorry, you have a better idea?” Sam demanded, irritated as he spun on his chair to face his brother.

Sam was aware it was a lame-ass plan, but there were kind of out of options.

“…what’s a Tinder?” Natasha asked cautiously and Dean answered her swiftly with the ominous words.

“It’s a fuck-app.”

“I’m sorry?”

Sam beat his brother to speaking this time. “It’s a form of a dating site – or better, a dating app for your phone. You create a profile and-“

“So it’s a dating side. Basically. What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s known for finding a quick lay,” Sam explained bluntly, making her eyes widen, blood rushing into her cheeks.

“Oh.”

Dean gestured towards her wildly as if wanting to scream ‘see?!’ when a mixture of emotions played on her face. Sam rolled his eyes and huffed.

Natasha, seeing their exchange, worried her teeth over her lower lip.

“Well… how about we have a trip to the city and if we don’t come up with anything better, we give this a go?” she offered, causing both brothers to look at her as if she had grown a second head. Frankly, Sam was pleased too, though.

“Seriously?” Dean questioned in disbelief.

“We don’t have a better plan, do we? Desperate times. Besides… I have two bodyguards if someone lures me out under false pretences, don’t I?” she asked innocently, an honest smile lighting up her face, her unshakable trust in them showing again.

It made Sam’s stomach flip and his heart melt like hot butter. His lips spread in a smile as well unwittingly and he exchanged a look with Dean, who shrugged.

“You got balls. Let’s go then.”

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It took them an hour to get to the city and find a spot and neither of them had a better plan. Which meant they wandered the streets – earning strange looks for some reason –, postponing the inevitable until they found a small homey café.

Sam gulped. “Well, looks like this is it. We’re gonna dive into the Tinder jungle…”

Dean scoffed as he entered the café, looking around for a free table in the friendly space. It was clear that this wasn’t a franchise type of thing and Sam couldn’t tell he minded.

What he did mind were several pairs of eyes falling on them – and few of them growing wide, having their owners nudge their mates and whisper.

The taller hunter glanced at his companions who seemed equally uncomfortable under the glares. Good, Sam wasn’t getting paranoid then.

The moment only lasted few second though, then an orange-haired barista making rounds approached them with a smile, pointing them towards the counter, breaking the spell.

“Welcome to MDDC. Order at the counter, please. Oh and I recommend our caramel latté. It’s known to be magical,” she winked at them and Sam winced, mentally pleading for no more magic.

Squinting at her nametag, he thanked her for the recommendation anyway.

“Thank you… Terri.”

She threw another wink over her shoulder as she spun on her heels and headed the same direction. Unlike some of the patrons she seemed unfazed by their presence as she should. Yet, Sam still caught some people watching them with interest and shuffled, uncomfortable in his own skin.

“Am I like… famous? Or are they staring at you?” Natasha whispered, cautiously walking to the line of customers.

“They are staring, aren’t they?” Sam agreed, his mind racing. Was it a good thing? What did it mean? Could Natasha be famous?

“Maybe they think we’re all in poly.”

“Dean,” Sam snapped instantly, not amused as much as his brother clearly was, judging by his smirk.

“What? They could,” Dean offered innocently, earning a curious glance from Natasha, followed by a shake of her head.

“I’m not even gonna ask.” Good choice. “Grab me the caramel latté, please? Maybe it won’t taste like coffee too much. I’m… ugh, I’m gonna…” she pointed towards the ladies room and Sam just nodded.

A quick scan of the room confirmed his suspicion – there were eyes following her. Whatever this was, it was about her, not them.

Good news: no one was about to call the police, recognizing them as criminals. Good news no.2: finding information about Natasha might not be as hard as they had thought. Might.

“So, what are we thinking?”

Dean joined him in the line, losing his carefree attitude. “I think it’s worth asking. This ain’t coincidence. I just don’t get it – if she is famous, how did you not find a match?”

Sam grimaced, wondering about the same thing.

“Maybe it’s her family – or her soulmate. They could be annoyed with people, wanting to have their peace. How much it can cost to have someone cover the digital trail? Or maybe they sued someone and it resulted in that.”

“Or we could be wrong and they’re just looking at her ‘cause she an eye-candy,” Dean hummed, sounding perfectly serious. Sam hoped that the look he sent him spoke volumes. “What? She’s cute, we’re both thinking it.”

Sam rolled his eyes , but didn’t protest. “Let’s hope that it’s not the case, otherwise we’re about to sign her up for a ‘fuck-app’.”

This time it was Dean who glared mocked murder. Sam grinned.

“So, guys, what can I get you?” Terri asked them cheerily, genuine smile on her face. It somehow made Sam smile back automatically.

“Flat white, medium for me. Americano, no sugar for him. Tall? Yeah. And one of those caramel lattés,” Sam ordered.

“Here or to go?”

“Here. Add one of those… cheesecakes or whatever it’s called,” Dean requested. Before Sam could ask, he explained. “She liked trying new stuff. And Rowena said she should eat a lot.”

“That’s surprisingly thoughtful of you,” Sam blurted out, not watching his mouth. It earned them a giggle from their barista.

“Shut up, Samantha. You’re paying.”

Sam snorted as his brother aimed for a free table in the back and he pulled out the cash.

“He looks like a piece of work,” Terri commented lightly. Sam silently agreed. “I’ll bring your order to the table, okay?”

“Thanks.”

The boot in a quiet corner was a good choice, though Sam felt a little sorry for Natasha, who would have to walk through the whole café and face the strangely curious eyes.

“Here we go. Enjoy,” the barista landed their coffees and dessert.

“Thank you. Uhm… Terri? Can I ask you something?” Sam asked and straightened in his seat, which earned him a suspicious look from the woman.

“I have a boyfriend.”

“What a shame for the rest of us…” Dean sighed, shooting Sam an amused look when he noticed how flustered he grew.

“Huh? No, that wasn’t what I was-! I mean, not that you weren’t- uh, I mean-“ Sam stuttered, horrified she came to such conclusion.

It was when she giggled, her eyes sparkling. “I’m messing with you. What is it?”

Sam huffed, but couldn’t help but sigh in relief. He even charmed a little smile, trying not to look too self-important and showing he was okay with her teasing him.

“This might sound strange but… I think… people are kinda staring? At our friend? Do you have any idea why?”

“Well… if I could take a guess… it’s… it’s just that she looks so much like her,” she said slowly, glancing around. No one paid them any mind as they lowered their voices.

Jackpot. Sam’s eyebrows jumped and he leaned in, intrigued. With the corner of his eye, he registered Dean doing the same.

“Like who?”

“Cap’s girl,” Terri said simply, her expression darkening and softening at the same time. “God give him strength and let her rest in peace.”

Millions of questions popped up in Sam’s head, mostly whirling about what, who, why, when. A tragedy had struck, that was nothing new, they expected as much, but not an event of public manner.

“Cap?” Sam questioned, confused. What kind of a nickname-

“Do you live under a rock?” Terri asked with a strange expression on her face. She seemed… surprised and weirded out, honestly. Sam couldn’t help but be offended at such blunt and mean question. “Sorry. Not much of a patriot then? Not from around here?”

“Wait, you mean Cap as… Captain America?” Dean whispered, sounding excited and Sam felt his heart skip a beat.

No way. Sam wasn’t very patriotic, never felt it, but even he knew who Captain America was and what role he had played in history – and present. But… she had to be shitting them, right?

“Well… yeah.”

Apparently not.

“Captain America? The Avenger?” Sam checked, making sure there was no confusion between them.

“Sure thing.” Terri shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“And she looks like his-…?“ Sam hinted her, trying to mask his impatience and excitement, probably failing epically.

“Soulmate, yeah.”

“That’s…” The younger hunter jerked his head, exchanging a meaningful look with Dean. “…interesting. Can we find her picture online? What’s her name? You know… celebrity look alike game and all that…? They do say my brother here looks like Bradley James.”

Oh yeah, Sam was totally making this up as he went. Dean was going to murder him for that comparison, but sacrifices needed to be made in the name of their rescue case. Terri tilted her head to side, examining Dean’s face, her smile growing wider.

“Huh. You kinda do,” she concluded and smirked. “I always was a sucker for Arthur and Merlin bromance.”

Sam snorted. They had watched an episode of Merlin. Dean had been horrified.

“I hate you. But yeah, do tell us.”

“Sure. But you can just check out the church on West 59th Street,” their barista confided them in – except neither of the brother understand what it meant. Dean was the one to ask.

“Why?”

“It’s the closest church to the Tower,” Terri announced, seemingly bewildered as she looked between the two of them. “How did you miss all this? It was all over the news.”

“We’ve been… travelling a lot.”

“Oh. Okay. You can just check it out. Light a candle for her. She died so a lot of others could live,” Terri explained them softly, clearly about to make her leave.

Sam had one last question though – well, among like million others.

Light a candle for her? What the hell?

“Thanks. Just… how long has it been?”

“Not too long. Few weeks.”

The moment their barista was out of hearing rage, Sam turned to Dean, whose shocked expression matched his own, and started whispering hastily.

“What the hell?!”

“Yeah, I’m right there with you. But it sounds legit. You check it out?“

Sam glanced around before pulling out his tablet. He liked this option better than the Tinder one, but an anxious knot was tying up his stomach as Natasha still didn’t find them at their table. She sure was taking her time. Sam hoped she was okay and wasn’t having a panic attack or something. And that there were no windows she could climb through – because if she was Captain freaking America’s soulmate, she might as well be a superhero just like him.

Seriously – what the hell.

The amount of results for ‘Captain America soulmate’ search was ridiculous, climbing to astronomic numbers. Links to articles, pictures, videos… and lots of the links had only the headline and nothing more to it – they had been deleted.

Sam wasn’t surprised anymore. Once again, if Natasha – which wasn’t her name at all, of course, as he found out – was the one for the supersoldier, there was no wonder someone would want to protect her privacy.

Sam roamed through the links, finally finding a photo – a photo of an altar, a picture of what clearly was a woman of Natasha’s hair colour, though blurred via filter, surrounded by teddy bears, flowers and candles.

The younger hunter gulped, satisfaction at possibly solving the mystery mixing with nervousness and compassion.

“Got something,” he hummed, passing the device to Dean.

“Well, that’s not creepy at all. Found any picture of her that actually shows her?”

Sam glared at his brother. “I’m trying,” he hissed, returning to his search.

He clicked on several videos – it was no surprise they had all been removed. He grunted in frustration, trying out what could be twentieth link, some no-name person Tumblr blog who had reposted it about three minutes ago.

Bingo!

The blurry picture moved a little, showing a blond man standing up from a bed in a plain room, crackling sound in the background. Sam froze the frame, attaching headphones and pressed play again.

The camera finally cleared and… the frame split in two. In the other frame, a woman strapped to a chair appeared, causing Sam’s heart stop along with his breathing.

Holy shit.

Holy.

Shit.

“Dean, you have to see this,” Sam choked out, a lump growing in his throat as he pushed the tablet to sit at the table between them and passed one headphone to his brother. Dean’s eyes went wide upon seeing the people in the video.

“Life is full of hard choices, isn’t it, Captain?” a scratchy male voice mocked the desperate man in the picture and Sam’s shoulders tensed when he realized just how hard choice the soldier was given; two bombs showed in the frame.

Well, shit.

“Steve?” Oh yeah. This was definitely Natasha’s voice. This was hundred percent Natasha. Who wasn’t Natasha, but whatever. “It’s… it’s okay. Go. Go save lives. I… I knew I’d have to share you with the world. Frankly, I didn’t imagine it would be like this, but— you go and be hero. My life is nothing compared to thousands and we both know that.”

“Is that really-“ Dean questioned incredulously, eyes glued to the screen.

“Yeah. I… I think it is.”

They spoke no more, watching the video as if it was the most suspenseful thriller they had even seen. Which it was, because the plot was very much real and they had the main character in the near bathroom. Risen from death.

Someone should probably check up on her, but Sam couldn’t tear his gaze away. It was like watching a train wreck to happen; they knew how it must have ended. Thousands of people Nat in the video had mentioned got to live; because Captain’s soulmate was about to blow up.

Both brothers still winced when the explosion did end the video.

Christ.

Dean slowly pulled out the earplug and gulped, glancing at Sam.

“Well… son of a bitch.”

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Part 12

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Thank you for reading!

(I’m sorry for that GIF use, I had to)

I hope it’s clear enough now that there’s a slight time shift between reader chapters and Steve/Nat/Sam/Bucky chapters (theirs are earlier, while reader had been resurrected a few weeks after her death, about after Steve’s drinking night.)

P.S. – I couldn’t resist that little cameo :D If you know who I mean the better, if not, don’t worry about it, Terri is one of my OFCs ;)

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serendipitous-magic · 4 years

Text

Question Game - AKA Oversharing Hour

I was tagged by @the-angry-pixie! And I’m a chronic oversharer, so this was fun. I’ll put most of it under a read more line because there’s a LOT.

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen?

Black. Dunno why.

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city?

City city city city city city city city. I’m already going fucking batshit as it is, trapped in suburbia. I want to be able to actually do things, anything. Anything other than just being around the house and / or work. (And I felt like this before the pandemic started.) If you live in the city you can walk out your door and be somewhere else within like 5 minutes. A city park, a cafe, a train/subway, a local attraction, a museum, an artist’s booth, an outdoor market, etc. etc.

Living in suburbia is like, well, to go literally anywhere you have to get into your car first and drive like 10 minutes minimum to get out of the neighborhood, and then if you want to go anywhere that’s not the grocery store you have to drive 20 minutes to get to another area of town, and then once you get there that’s the only place you can be without getting into your car again and getting a nice shot of anxiety from having to drive in traffic and have aggressive drivers roar up on your ass because you’re going 5mph above the speed limit and they want to be going 15mph above, and god help you if you have to merge, and oh by the way this is your only option to get around because public transit doesn’t really exist in any useful way in Big Suburbia, and nothing in within walking distance of your house except like 2 playgrounds and maybe one (1) gas station. (I hate it here lmao)

If I was trapped in the country I’d probably be chill with it for about a week, and enjoy the break, and the on day 8 I’d snap and go on a murdering spree out of stir-craziness.

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be?

I want to learn German and eventually be fluent in it. But since I’ve already started trying to learn and I don’t know if that counts, I’ll say cinematography. As in the actual working of the camera and lighting and all that. I can dream up some pretty striking images but actually getting the camera to do the settings needed to capture them is another story entirely.

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar?

Nope. I drink coffee and tea both, and I don’t put any kind of sweetener in either of them. I used to put a shitton of sugar in my coffee and honey in my tea, and then I had some mild eating disorder struggles in college and I never got back in the habit of putting stuff in my hot drinks after that. It just tastes wrong now, after being used to plain black coffee.

5. What was your favourite book as a child?

Either the Harry Potter series or The Hobbit. My grandma would take care of me a lot when I was really little because my parents both worked full time to support us, and every single time I was at her house she’d sit us down at the dining room table and read something to me. Not Junie B. Jones or anything, either, but real, big, thick books. I loved the shit out of Harry Potter and The Hobbit; I would request them repeatedly. We pretty much went back and forth; we’d read Harry Potter, and then The Hobbit, and then when a new Harry Potter book came out we’d read that, and then The Hobbit again, and so on and so forth.

6. Do you prefer baths or showers?

Showers. I love baths, they’re magical, but ain’t nobody got time for that unless it’s a special occasion. I got too much shit to do to spend an hour lying in the bathtub.

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be?

Vampire. Purely on the basis that if I was immortal maybe I’d finally have time to get my to-do list done and accomplish things. I’d miss the sunlight though.

8. Paper or electronic books?

Paper. Here’s the thing, I really want to enjoy ebooks, but they just don’t hold my attention at all. Maybe I’m too conditioned by the internet to have a short attention span when I’m looking at a screen, idk.

9. What is your favourite item of clothing?

I have a dark gray hoodie from the Seattle Aquarium from when I went on a road trip across America with my BFF a few years ago. It’s still my absolute favorite thing. I also enjoy my hiking boots a lot. (I wear them all the time, really they should just be called “everyday boots” haha)

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it?

I like my name and I would also like to start going by something different. Probably just because I’m a restless soul and I feel the best (and least trapped) when I’m on the move or when things are changing. The second I get somewhere I want to be somewhere else. That’s just how I am. Gwen is a cool name (I’ve personally met maybe 3 people in my whole life with the same name, face-to-face), but there’s a lot attached to that nickname that I don’t necessarily want to carry with me when I eventually escape my hometown and start down a new path.

11. Who is a mentor to you?

A friend and former professor whom I usually refer to online as Producer Man. He’s a producer (as you may have guessed) who kind of took me under his wing after I was in one of his film classes in college. We work together on film projects now and he’s teaching me bit-by-bit (usually by way of long, rambling, tangential stories / lectures) about the industry. He’s a really good guy. Like, he for sure has a case of Old White Guy sometimes, but his heart is absolutely in the right place. “He’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit.” He’s always leaving $10 tips at coffee places and working himself to the bone to get his students connected to jobs and internships that will help them with their careers.

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for?

Yes, my stories. Actually, “famous” is not the right word. It’s just that fame is so tightly associated with success in our society. I want to be successful. Whether I’m widely known or not is pretty inconsequential to me. I want to make stories and I want them to have an impact. Books, film, etc. It’s about as simple as that.

13. Are you a restless sleeper?

Oh yeah. I have trouble sleeping as much as I should because I usually kind of jerk awake in the morning with this vague feeling that I forgot something or that I’m late for something. Also I stay up later than I should because I’m a night owl, and yet I like being up early because early mornings are great. And usually if I dream at all it’s something kind of stressful, like I dream that I forgot something important or did something wrong. I’m a Stressed Bean.

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person?

I think so, yeah. I’m pretty obsessed with the idea of romance (I mean look at my OTPs), but heteronormativity got me fucked up enough that I’m bad at actually navigating real romantic feelings or relationships because society never prepared me for The Gay.

15. Which element best represents you?

Fire, probably.

16. Who do you want to be closer to?

My mom. We fight a lot and there tends to be a lot of tension between us. It’s a long complicated story. It boils down to, she really hurt me when I came out as not-straight at 15 and she lost all of my trust and even though she’s working on being less homophobic we’re still kind of trying to repair that divide seven years later.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment?

Dude, I miss everyone. I’m an introvert and I’d love to be at a big party right now. I miss socialization. (As does everyone.)

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory.

The first time I experienced deja vu, I was about eehhh 6? And I legitimately believed, for several years of my life, that I had future-predicting abilities. Like, supernatural-level future-predicting abilities. Because I didn’t really know what deja vu was, so I thought, every time it happened, that I had already ~seen~ that moment in my dreams or something. 🤣

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten?

Hm. (My immature ass brain yells “DICK.” No, brain. Those were dark heteronormative times. Also, grow up.)

Probably some of the sushi in Seattle. I actually love sushi, it’s just that when it has full-on legs and eyeballs I start getting a little squeamish. I like the rolls and the kind where there’s some fish meat laid out on a nice little bed of rice, that’s delicious. But when they brought out the whole shrimp with legs still attached, I was like “How in the (redacted) am I going to chew / swallow that.”

20. What are you most thankful for?

That I happened to be living with family when this pandemic hit. I was supposed to move out (and across the country, actually) as of... like 4 days ago, as it happens. That was the plan. Plane ticket was gonna be booked for 7/15/20. Obviously, things didn’t quite work out that way, because of the pandemic and a few other reasons. But I can’t imagine if I had been in an apartment living with roommates, or in an apartment on my own struggling to get by, when this happened. A lot of people couldn’t pay rent and lost their homes. I was very, very lucky to be where I was, when I was, and very lucky that I have family who let me stay in their house pretty much indefinitely while this clusterfuck of a year happens.

21. Do you like spicy food?

Yes! I looooove spicy thai food especially. I miss the massaman curry from a local Thai place so much 😭

22. Have you ever met someone famous?

Um. Maybe? I met Veronica Roth once at an author talk in the library where I work, although it was before I worked there. And I met some guy from New Zealand who’s famous for his sword fighting skills because my dad does sword fighting stuff. Don’t remember his name though.

23. Do you keep a diary or journal?

Yep. I have to write down everything or I forget. (I often say I have the memory of a goldfish.) Also, I have this compulsion to record and preserve my experiences in life, because I feel like our time on Earth is so fleeting and if I don’t write down what’s important to me, I’ll forget it and lose it.

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil?

Pen. Pencil gets smudged.

25. What is your star sign?

Scorpio, which is ironic because they’re supposed to be ~hyper sexual~ I guess, and I’m like gray-ace or something in that zone.

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy?

Crunchy. Who eats soggy cereal? Are you okay? Do you need help? This is an intervention.

27. What would you want your legacy to be?

My stories. Life and sentience, as we experience it, is made up of just that: experience. And I read somewhere that, on some level, the human brain doesn’t differentiate that much between real life experiences and fictional experiences. I think that’s true. If you read or watch or hear the right story, it can really touch you and change the way you see life, or even change the way you live life. Stories have an incredible amount of power, both in individual people’s lives and in larger society. A huge amount of power. I want to be able to give people experiences that will Enrich Their Lives (do I sound like a lifestyle coach yet? 🤦🏼‍♀️), but also stories that actively do good in society. Positive representation, body positivity/neutrality, diversity, healthy relationships (Hollywood has a real problem with that). Hope. It’s the best thing I can think to give society, and storytelling is what I love to do.

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read?

I love reading. I wish I did it more. Part of my problem is that I get caught up in the hectic Rat Race of modern society and I never feel like I have time to sit down with a book for hours. Another problem of mine is that I start too many things at once, meaning I currently have like 5-10 (I lost count) books that I started reading, and I want to finish all of them, which means no progress ever gets done on any of them.

I last finished The Goldfinch, and I am currently working on The Secret History, Good Omens, Dune, a book my dad wrote, Directing Actors, Shot by Shot, The Way of Kings and I forget what else.

29. How do you show someone you love them?

Physical affection, acts of service, words of affirmation, quality time, and gifts, in that order. If I’m close to someone, whether romantically or not, I want all the affection. And I’m kind of dying in quarantine.

30. Do you like ice in your drinks?

Depends. I usually don’t put any in, because it’s just gonna water down the drink and get in the way of drinking it (you know when the ice attacks your face?), but I don’t really mind ice in my drinks.

31. What are you afraid of?

Helplessness. I Have Control Issues. ✌️ Also stagnation.

32. What is your favourite scent?

Amber. Or any scent that’s kind of autumn-y. You know what I mean. Some other examples include dryer sheets, wood smoke, cigarette smoke (my big sister used to smoke a long long time ago, and although I never saw her do it, I still associate the scent with her), pine resin, rain, that Mahogany Woods scent from Bath and Bodyworks.

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname?

If they introduce themselves as Pam I call them Pam. If they introduce themselves as Mr. Brown I call them Mr. Brown.

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life?

If “money is not a factor” means I have an infinite amount of money to spend as I wish, then: buy land, build film studio complex on land, found company, hire fellow creatives, make movies.

If “money is not a factor” just means that I don’t have to work 40 hours a week to afford rent, then: move to Chicago, rent a nice studio apartment, write stories, maybe work 15 hours a week at a used bookstore or coffee shop to get me out of the house and socialize. Go to museums, go to the park, walk along Lake Michigan, go to gay bars, ride the train, brave the Illinois winters, own a cat, paint, play guitar. Build my actual career on writing / storytelling. Probably also do some filmmaking.

Alternatively: buy an RV (not like an American Trailer Park shitty RV, I’m talking the NOICE ones), buy good film equipment, be a freelancer, live in RV driving around to wherever the next filming location is. Life is a road trip and I’m doing what I love. Writing, storytelling, filmmaking. My home would travel with me. Writing in cafes; roadside attractions; early mornings on the road with coffee in the cup holder as the sun comes up; being able to go anywhere to film; always experiencing something new.

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean?

I’ve lived in a landlocked state my whole life, so I guess swimming pools. And, listen, I CANNOT get water in my mouth at the beach without wondering exactly how many kids have peed (or worse) in that water. (I know that’s a thing with pools too, but pools get cleaned.)

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground?

Wonder what some poor European is doing in America right now. But if it was $50, I’d probably yell “DID ANYONE DROP THIS?” and then take it if no one speaks up.

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star?

A few times, yeah.

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children?

Grades are not the end-all-be-all. Skip some homework assignments to spend time with friends. Skip class sometimes. I’m serious. If you make school your top priority, even over your own personal life, you will come away with good grades and a lot of regret and missed opportunities. Learning is HELLA important, and very very little of it happens inside a school building. Get a 15 hour weekend or after-school job in high school, befriend your coworkers, and have fun with it. Use your paychecks however you want. Join a school club - one that you’re actually interested in. Do stupid shit. Light your textbooks on fire after graduation or go to the 24 hour Wendy’s at 2am with your friends or kiss that person you met at summer camp or sleep on the porch because it’s too hot to sleep inside. Be smart and safe, but follow your whims. If you let yourself fall into routine, apathy will poison you.

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it?

I already have a couple small ones, but the one I want next is a four-leaf clover. Don’t know where. Maybe my right inner wrist or maybe an ankle. Or like behind my ear. Luck has saved me so many times. (See above, with how I happened to be living with family when COVID hit.)

40. What can you hear now?

Swamp cooler downstairs, the clock ticking in my office, cars outside, people moving around the house. I’m surprised the neighbor kids aren’t shrieking their absolute heads off as per the usual.

41. Where do you feel the safest?

When I’m alone and unobserved.

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer?

TMI warning, but I absolutely despise public bathrooms. How am I expected to pee when there’s somebody sitting like three (3) feet away, with only a partial wall between us, hearing everything that’s going on? My fight or flight response simply will not allow it. It’s too awkward and therefore Not Safe. Either that public restroom has to be empty except for me, or it has to be so loud and bustling that ain’t nobody hearing anything. Anything in-between and I’m in hell.

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be?

The ‘80s. Let’s be honest, even that far back makes my life (as a woman, and as a gay person) hella difficult. But, consider this: it’s the ‘80s. Furthermore, consider this: a part-time job might have actually supported me and paid rent back then 😱 Holy fucking shit. Sign me up. I just wouldn’t want to go any further than than like 1980, because again: lesbian. Being a woman in the past = even harder than it is today, being gay in the past = even harder than it is today, being a gay woman in the past = oh no.

44. What is your most used emoji?

In order of descending frequency:

😂🙄😊😁🤦🏼‍♀️👀😬🌈🤷🏼‍♀️😙

45. Describe yourself using one word.

Creative

46. What do you regret the most?

Wasting my entire teenage experience. (See #38.) I did quite literally nothing with my life except homework for like 18 years. If I had taken even a tenth as much time for myself as I did for school, I would be so much farther along as a person today.

47. Last movie you saw?

In the theaters? ........ uh. Shit, I don’t actually remember. It’s been like 5 months. (As it has for everyone.) But the last movie I watched was Lights Out, because I’ve been watching the director’s youtube channel. You could tell it was low-budget and that the director was still kind of finding his stride, but it had a lot of heart behind it and the creators clearly gave a fuck, which made it enjoyable. I am firmly in the camp of “not everything has to be a Magnum Opus or have a multi-billion dollar budget to be a good movie.” If I engaged with it and got some sort of emotional experience out of it, and if it had a good message, I consider it a good movie.

48. Last tv show you watched?

I don’t usually watch a whole lot of TV shows (who has the time?) but I think the last thing I watched was either The Witcher or that new Unsolved Mysteries miniseries on Netflix. Oh and I was watching Dead to Me because I just love Linda Cardellini’s face and I want to wrap Judy up in a blanket and cuddle the shit out of her and protect her from all things 🥺 My precious beautiful unstable sweet murder baby.

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning.

Apapanic. It’s where you’re so stressed about things that half of your brain is panicking but the other half is so overwhelmed that it circled all the way back around to being calm to the point of apathy, so you just kind of sit there like

#about me #tag game #except as usual i'm not gonna tag people because I don't have to social energy to ask people to do things #sorry i know that's kind of cheating #if you wanna overshare just say I tagged you lol #personal #tmi

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shewantedtobeasecretgirl · 6 years

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9. My Sharon…ah a.k.a. porn star alter egos, the other Stone and a dangerous ginger (Part One)

We’ve already been waiting for our food for almost an hour; unlike we do during our usually chaotic meals accompanied by parallel discussions, we’re all sitting silently staring in front of ourselves, trying to use as little energy as possible.

“I’ve told you we should have chosen that vegetarian restaurant…” Jeff mutters in a monotonous voice.

“Of course… and the predator part of the team can go to hell, right? Vegetarian restaurant, ‘course… over my dead body, Jeff.” Smitty hisses indignantly.

“Hey, I see food! Finally!” I sigh relieved as I spot the waitress approaching our table carrying two huge trays with burgers, burritos and fries. On arriving, she recoils desperately since everybody starts shouting their orders to be the first to be served. After a few seconds of hesitation, she puts the trays on the table and then flees terrified. I’m not surprised about her reaction; I’ve never been in the middle of a locust swarm but it can be something similar.

“And people did feast upon the lambs, and sloths, and carp…” Judy and Stone recite in unison but realizing the situation they both fall silent embarrassed.

“What???” I inquire confused. Their sudden telepathic connection is pretty strange, not to mention the fact that it didn’t make any sense.

“Armaments, Chapter Two.” Stone lectures me briefly with an eyeroll.

“Verses Nine to Twenty-One.” Judy adds helpfully probably seeing my still clueless expression.

“It’s from Monty Python’s Holy Grail. When Arthur and his knights encounter the Killer Rabbit, they think that the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch might…”

“Thanks for the explanation Mike, I think I’ve heard enough...”

“Finally, my precious.” Judy rubs her hands together and grabs the Tabasco bottle to pour an enormous amount of hot sauce on her large cheeseburger.

“Tabasco? Don’t your lips hurt?” Jeff’s head perks up.

Why would her lips hurt? Did Jeff bite her mouth on the date? I glance at Karrie who answers with a barely visible shrug. So she hasn’t succeeded to learn some details of yesterday’s events either… I haven’t been able to get rid of the guys and make Judy tell everything. I could swear she has been hiding intentionally the whole day, she pretended sleeping when I got on their bus and fake-shopped between the shelves of the store at the gas station for long minutes so that we wouldn’t meet at women’s restroom. She’s quite naive if she thinks I would give up and forget about it so easily…

“Why would her lips hurt?” Scully echoes my thoughts.

“Oh, eheh, I thought I got herpes but luckily it was only a false alarm…” she snickers awkwardly. Herpes? Jesus, she’s impossible… Okay, Jeff definitely didn’t bite her anywhere… I’m not the only one who’s shocked by her words, though, Jeff exchanges a meaningful look with the terrified Mike who forgets to chew for a few seconds, Dave narrows his eyes and glances at Stone who answers with a content smirk. Am I hallucinating or do they know something I don’t?

“Uhm, but really, Tabasco? I didn’t know you liked hot sauce.” I try to direct the chat back to culinary topics.

“Oh, I adore it! But… ugh… cucumber…” she picks out a few slices of vegetable of her burger.

“Are you crazy? I mean, that’s not an actual question, of course you are; cucumber is one of the best things in the world... But if you’re such a picky eater, then take the consequences… ” Stone leans over the table and steals the green treasures from her plate.

“Hey, you haven’t even touched your fries, are you a potato snob? And it is him who calls me a picky eater… Waster… Eye for an eye.” Judy fires back and grabs the small paper bag of fries greedily from Stone’s plate.

“Guys, could you suspend the food fight until we finish our meal? You can stay here and disembowel each other with plastic cutlery but please, wait until we leave, I can’t stand blood…” Eric intervenes. “Judy, are you serious, you eat cheeseburger with knife and fork?” he breaks the character of the form teacher.

“I have to… my mouth cavity is extreme small.” Judy explains making Stone snort.

“Hmph… this is new to me, I’ve never heard this excuse. OUCH!!!” he allows himself a sexist joke, which I immediately punish by stomping at full strength on his left foot.

“Maybe because you’ve never even got close to any type of situations when you could hear it.” Jeff joins the attack with verbal means and a satisfied grin.

“Thank you very much, Jeff… Eeed… your partner is hurting meeee....” Stone whines in the voice of annoying squealer kids.

“Because she’s my feminist girl who immediately avenges jerk behavior.” Ed presses a long and slow kiss on my cheek, which makes me immediately pull closer to him.

“And she bites too…” I whisper into his ear making sure that no one else can hear it. Okay, I know, whispering in bigger company is not the most polite behavior but… it’s been a while since we…

“And how was the exhibition?” Scully’s annoying capon voice pulls me back in the present.

“The s...exhibition…” Smitty giggles and earns a head-slap from Karrie for his immature joke.

“I liked it a lot… Zach has really good eyes to find art in everyday life. It’s cool how these paintings reflect on current public issues or even on each other… You know, painters usually don’t use each other’s work as canvas but with graffiti… anything can happen. The angry owner paints the wall or it gets completed or altered by other artists… And this is why Zach’s work is so worthy; he takes snapshots of society…” Judy rambles unaware of the fact that Jeff is listening to her with dreamy heart-eyes.

“Jeff, I’ve started being jealous, you’ve never taken me to any intellectual programs, always those smoky pubs…” Stone pretends jealousy. Scully turns to him and takes a deep breath while stroking his shoulder gently.

“Stoney… it’s high time you faced the fact that is obvious to everyone else here: he’s ashamed of you.”

“But why? I do everything to meet his expectations… I read every day and…” he sniffs.

“Stone, what you do to those… “artistic” magazines… it can’t be regarded as reading.” Jeff snorts moving his hand obscenely over his lap.

“Jesus…” Ed almost spits out his apple juice of laughter and the general amusement spreads along the table like bushfire.

“Stone, if you want to win Jeff’s heart, you have to count with serious competition, reading won’t be enough.”

“Anyway, Scully, speaking of reading, I actually didn’t read yesterday evening since something very weird happened to me when I was heading to my room.” he darts his eyes at Judy who immediately freezes and stops snickering. “I heard music from the bar and went in to take a closer look at the piano player but I happened to meet…”

“AWWWW!!!” Judy groans with a surprisingly high volume, which makes everyone stare at her. “Dif... dif iv fooo delifiouf!!!” she mumbles pointing at her burger. Judging from her pronunciation, she must be nibbling on a half cow in her mouth.

“After this interesting gastronomic intermezzo, I would go on, may I? So, entering the bar I encountered…”

“Amd de dabafco… heabedly…” Judy keeps moaning. Okay, if she goes on like this, I’ll begin to be concerned about her mental condition, maybe someone spiked her drink…

“Okay, everyone who’s interested in this incomprehensible muttering, raise your hands. Nobody? Great. So, entering the bar I encountered a very weird chick.” Stone begins and for some unknown reason, Judy looks as terrified as if she had realized that her food was poisoned.

“You mean alien kind of weird or sort of a psycho girl?”

“Thanks for the great question, Mike. I don’t know, she seemed to be pretty harmless, she just ordered drinks she didn’t like but at one certain point she grabbed my arm, I thought she could have been able to break it. We also played pool but she insisted on choosing the most hopeless options, as if she had tried to lose intentionally.”

Judy listens to him with a tense attention while literally stabbing her burger with the plastic fork again and again.

“And then?” Ed asks with some impatience in his voice. I can relate to him, Stone’s story doesn’t sound very interesting even despite the theatrical presentation.

“I tried to help her with a few advice but she kept digging in my privacy and left insulted.” Stone shrugs.

“… and this was the story of the evening when Stone almost picked up a lunatic. Thanks Stone, that was interesting, really.” Ed sums up probably everybody’s opinion.

Hearing a snapping voice I squint at Judy; as if she’d just woken up from hypnosis, she examines the two plastic sticks helplessly that remained from the fork. Okay, I have to remind Eric to keep any kind of pointed or edged objects away from her if Stone’s in the room as well.

“Ugh… I’m not sure if I’m able to walk back to the club on my own feet…” Mike rubs his stomach standing up from the table.

“Because you’re a chowhound…”

“Would you be willing to pull me back while I’m sitting on carrier trolley? You would be allowed to insult me in the meantime… Consider it Stone, this isn’t an everyday offer, take it or leave it…”

“Come on Mike, he couldn’t even pull a five-year-old child…” Scully follows them and they begin a heated discussion about the estimated load capacity of Stone’s different body parts.

“Beth… uhm, could we talk for a second?” Jeff steps to me. I wait until everyone else leaves but I’m afraid this conversation will be embarrassing even without the smartass remarks of the others. I’m rooting for Jeff with all my heart but the role of the matchmaker isn’t really for me… I encouraged Judy but that doesn’t mean I want to mediate between them…

“What can I do for you?” I ask although I exactly know the answer. Pushing Judy into his bed and locking the door from outside.

“I don’t know if Judy have told you anything about yesterday evening… and I don’t even want to ask it… “he adds defensively seeing I’m about to refuse to take part in any intervention.

“Then what?” I fold my arms amused. I’m mean, I know. But I can’t help enjoying how this more than six feet tall guy is scratching the ground with the tip of his sneaker.

“Our date ended in a pretty sudden way. I mean, you know, we didn’t… kiss…” he lowers his voice at the last word, unnecessarily, though, since everyone else from the team has already left the restaurant.

“But she didn’t slap you either… I mean, I guess.”

“Exactly, that’s the point… we didn’t talk about what’s next. At first I felt pretty confident but… I don’t know, I realized we haven’t agreed on a second date yet and…”

“Look, I think you expect too much from her… Imagine this situation in a normal environment. And when I say “normal”, I mean the usual dating habits. Girl and guy know each other, guy likes girl so he asks her out, they have a date… and that’s where you are right now. What would you do normally after a date?”

“Uhm, I don’t know, I guess I’d call her a few days later and…”

“See, that’s the key. A few days later. You wouldn’t call her immediately pressuring her to give a feedback. The fact she’s around you basically all the time doesn’t mean she doesn’t need time to process and consider the pace. Plus, you’re colleagues. Plus, there are a bunch of curious people around who are observing you like you were the main characters of a soap opera. So being pushed is probably the last thing she needs.”

“I know, but this insecurity is killing me. I’m not a macho type but I don’t like to be fooled either…”

“I’m convinced that she’s not the type who would intentionally fool you. Just give her a little space.”

“Okay… but I would appreciate if you talked to her… I mean you don’t have to tell me how she feels but…”

Jesus, the guy is persistent and his only luck is that I really like him.

“I can’t promise anything, but if she comes up with the topic, I’ll try to drop some cautious hints. Deal?” I throw my arms in the air unwillingly.

“I knew I could count on you!” he flashes his trademark thousand watt smile at me.

And now, all I have to do is cornering Judy. Because I’m not going to let her screw up everything with this sweet idiot.

***

“Hey, Scully, what happened to my amp during the show? I started being worried about Ethel.”

Mike and I glance amused at each other hearing the sign of Stone beginning to embrace the name of his stuffed pet.

“The ventilator I stood behind it broke down. But your calf wasn’t in danger, she felt like a rock star in the cloud of smoke.”

“Please don’t overplay the role, Scul.”

“I’m not overplaying anything, I can hear her mooing the backup vocals every time you play Black, just ask Dave!” Scully puts his tongue out insulted at Stone.

“Jesus, I never thought I would be the one who warned you but… you smoke too much weed.”

“No because I share it with Ethel, she likes chewing the cud of it…”

“Okay, some hash and acid must have kicked in too…” he rolls his eyes following Scully in the hallway.

“Okay, finally we’re alone, we need to talk.” Mike jabbers pulling closer to me.

“But we’re already talking.” I grin at him enjoying his mongoose moves; I’ve noticed he acts like a nervous little rodent when he’s excited.

“Please Jude, we don’t have time for this, they’re back in minutes.”

“Hey, it wasn’t me who…”

“Jude, it’s about Jeff.”

The smile freezes on my face. I can’t believe this, even Mike? I thought if no one else, he’d leave me alone.

“Mike, I’m not going to discuss this with you, it’s my business. And Jeff’s.” I correct myself for show. Obviously, if I had to choose between discussing our thing (in case we have one at all) with Jeff and impalement, I’d pick the latter.

“Wait, so did it happen? Did he conceal it from us only because he’s a gentleman?” his face lights up suddenly. “Oh, I knew you play in the master class, Jeffrey, you shouldn’t be so modest.” he goes on talking to himself.

“Excuse me???” I cut him off suspecting he’s rambling about something I’m not even willing to call by its name.

“Oh, so you didn’t…?” he asks disappointed. “Then he didn’t lie to us…”

“Mike, would you try to speak coherently?”

“Sure, sorry. So Jeff joined us at the bar after your date and the main character was a girl who was raised by foster parents and she didn’t know anything about her biological family.”

“What?” I stare at him. Oh no, I should have known, he’s drunk.

“And she fell in love with her rich boss who owned an ostrich farm and collected bowling shoes.” Mike goes on and his eyes pop staring at something behind me, which makes me turn around. I notice Dave fidgeting with his drum kit and realize Mike shifted topic so that he can’t overhear us.

“Aaand… was her boss handsome?” I make an insecure attempt to play along with him.

“I don’t know; too much hair gel for my taste but…” he shrugs. “So the guy invited her to his ranch and we discussed your date and Jeff misunderstood everything, your hair, the lenses, everything…”

I guess from his next switch that we’re alone again.

“How do you mean he misunderstood my hair? How can one misunderstood hair at all?”

“He thought you had dolled up for the occasion but Stone tried to convince him that it was only the razor.” Razor??? What if I was right and he’s drunk? Or even high? Or is someone behind my back again? Or did Stone notice with his impossibly green X-ray eyes that I haven’t shaved my legs since I arrived to Cleveland?

“Yeah and after having had sex with him, the girl received an anonymous letter which claimed she and her boss were biological siblings.”

“Oh no! And then? What happened after she had read the letter?” I pretend astonishment and follow Smitty and Karrie with my eyes who carefully lift the soundboard and place it onto the amp to push them out to the van.

“She ran away from the ranch and got hit by a truck. She woke up in the hospital but due to her amnesia no one could identify her. Things got more complicated when the hospital was attacked by zombie apes and they dragged her to their space ship and…”

“Mike, you shouldn’t harass Miss Judy with your pervert movies. Judy, he made me watch that one too, you don’t want to know what comes next, trust me.” Smitty shakes his head and disappears with the gear in the hallway.

“So that was that weird chainsaw sound I heard through the wall last night… Mike, you should see a sex therapist, I’m serious.” Karrie steps back for a second before leaving with Smitty.

“Now I’m really interested in the ending, please go on, Mike.” I grin at the blushing guitarist.

“And Stone also found out about your trick. And now Jeff knows about it as well.” he retorts challenging.

“What are you talking about? I can’t pull out rabbits from a hat or coins from behind anyone’s ears.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” he points at me with an accusing look.

“No, I don’t, could you be more specific?”

“The trick you used to prevent Jeff got pregnant and couldn’t find out if the father was ostrich farm guy or one of the zombie apes. The guy was convinced it was him but the wedding ceremony got interrupted and…”

“Excuse me, Mike but have you just said that Jeff got pregnant from an ostrich farm owner? Or zombie apes? Ugh, I thought Montanans fucked cows but this… this is…”

The steps that made Mike tell on the plotline of the chainsaw porn belonged to Stone who unfortunately must have heard a few words from our actual topic.

“Actually, we wanted to keep it in secret, since you had that little quarrel at the restaurant. You know, pregnant... men have to be protected from any sources of stress. And in the meantime you turned out to be the father but don’t worry, Stone, you’ll be a great dad, anyway. And if you won’t find the front of the child just check it in the manual.” I flash my sweetest smile at him.

“Ugh… I imagined the baby of them, it would be no wonder if no one knew which is their back and their front… Jesus, I need to go to the restroom.” Mike frowns leaving us alone, although I guess the reason of his escape is the six pack beer box that was left unsupervised in the backstage.

“Uhm… Stone… do you have a second?”

To his nodding I start talking.

“Look, I…”

“Time out.” he mumbles rummaging in his guitar case.

“Idiot.” I click with my tong and stomp angrily; even despite my eyeroll I spot a weird twitch in the corner of his mouth which I can’t decode. Who cares, I decided to be a lady this time and I’m not going to let him rile me up. “I… I just wanted to say that I really appreciate that you didn’t mention our conversation to Jeff… or anyone… I guess…” I keep my eyes on the mic cables that I’m trying to untangle in the meantime, with not much success, though.

“Why?” he asks back briefly.

“How do you mean “why”?” I perk my head up.

“Why do you appreciate it? Were you afraid of me doing it?”

I mutter something indistinct since I don’t feel like answering yes but I don’t want to deny it either as who knows what his reaction would be…

“So basically you’re thanking me for not telling to Jeff that you find him amusing, kind and funny? You’re weird, I don’t think he would feel insulted hearing that.”

“No… I don’t… I’m not…” I gibber. And here we are. I hate that he’s able to confuse me with one single word and I hate that he doesn’t let me tell what I mapped out and…

“Are you not thanking me or don’t you find him amusing, kind and funny?” he stares me with that irritating poker face, I wish could punch him… but no. I’m going to stay cool. I don’t let him influence my behavior. I’m the more mature so I can’t lose my temper.

“It doesn’t matter what I said or did. I just wanted to thank you for your discretion.” I try to get out of the situation without giving a straightforward answer.

“Do you think that I shut my mouth to save your ass?” he folds his arms smirking. “Cute theory, truly. But it’s not about you. It’s about Jeff. I didn’t want to embarrass him since…”

“Embarrass him??? I’ve heard you calling him a caveman, a yeti, a Montanan cow-fucker… and you don’t want to embarrass him???” I burst out in an exaggerated laughter.

“At least, I don’t play with his feelings.”

“That’s for sure. You humiliate him in pretty obvious and clear ways. But I don’t like veiled references, let’s be honest. Do you think I fool him?”

“I haven’t even mentioned your name, you’re smarter than I thought.”

The fuckin’ smirk won’t appear from his face. Okay, please, let someone took this cable away from me before I strangle him with it.

“I don’t know what you have to do with my private life but...”

“Nothing, luckily. But our bassist has, however much unprofessional it is to run after a colleague…”

“Speaking of professionalism, you have to play in one of the most important TV shows of this country in less than twenty-four hours and instead of preparing for the big event you’re spending your time with prying into other people’s life.”

“I’ve played Alive and Porch so many times that could do it only using my toes so…”

“EW!!!”

“…so it doesn’t require much preparation. Look, I’m not saying that you’re fooling him intentionally. Or even consciously. I’m only trying to point out that it’s pretty obvious that you don’t have the faintest idea how to handle his affection.” he shrugs.

“But I have a pretty clear idea of not discussing this with you.”

That damn cable has tangled into a huge knot in the meantime and my nervous tugging doesn’t help much with untying it. He takes it out of my hands and starts loosening it with slow, steady moves.

“You don’t have to. But you’d better find out what’s next before things get more complicated.” he reaches his palm with the knot-free cable on it out in front of me.

“Otherwise?” I ask with hands on my hips refusing to take it.

“Otherwise things do get complicated.” he remarks nonchalantly and ties it again into the most complex knot I’ve ever seen. I should answer something witty but I’m just mouthing like a damn fish as he slowly reaches for my arm and pulls it from my hip to put the cable into my hand. I have no idea for how long we’ve been staring at each other when he finally clears his throat and runs his fingers through his hair flipping it back. I only start blinking when he grabs his guitar case and leaves the stage. When I hear the nasal voice echoing, I’m still standing motionless on the stage.

“And by the way, nothing’s wrong with my toes.”

***

I’m not going to throw up. I’m not going to throw up. I’m not going to throw up. I should have already got used to public performances but I feel awful. The whole country is going to watch us and if it wouldn’t be enough, my mom called the whole family, uncles, aunts, cousins, their wives and husbands (including the former ones) and reminded them to turn on the TV at 11 p.m. My symptoms are worse than ever, I really need something to calm down… I should check our dressing room, maybe I find some booze there…

“Hey Mike… are you okay?” Jude approaches me with her tiny, quick steps.

“Yes, I’m okay… I’m almost okay…” I keep marching in circles in the backstage room of Studio 8H.

“You shouldn’t be that nervous, it’s not your first TV performance.”

“You don’t understand… I’ll screw up everything, I can feel it in my guts.” And I mean it literally.

“Haha, why would you? You’ll be great, I’m sure as hell.”

“Because. Before the unplugged show we realized our rented instruments weren’t suitable to anything we wanted to do and Ed fell off the chair during the set… my solos were barely audible…”

And it’s being aired in a few weeks so the whole country will know about the fiasco…

“You shouldn’t be that strict with yourself. But you know what? I know someone who is objective and can smell bad gigs from miles. A real expert.” she smiles cryptically. “We’re going to call Effie tomorrow. She’s going to watch the show, she even wants to record it.”

“Watch? Record??? No!” I squeak in despair. Suddenly, making myself ridiculous in front of my family and the whole American nation sounds pretty marginal in comparison to the fact that the person whom I’ve never met but to whom want to listen until the universe collapses is about to watch me making silly faces and stumble on my own foot.

“Jesus, why?” she sighs with growing annoyance.

“Because… because… she’s a young girl and… young girls should go to bed by 11 p. m.?”

My argumentation doesn’t sound very convincing and Jude looks at me as if I was completely losing my mind, which is pretty close to how I feel right now, actually…

“Okay Mike, now we’re going to look for your dressing room and I help you with a few relaxation exercises I learnt at Juilliard. They helped me overcome the terrible stage fright I used to feel before concerts so trust me…” she wraps one arm around my shoulder and gently but firmly directs me towards the hallway.

“I think Stone has already found our room.” I nod towards our rhythm guitarist who’s standing in front of a door staring it persistently.

“I know you’re convinced you can use the force but what if you tried the door handle?” she remarks in a mocking voice.

“There’s no try.” I help her out with the matching accent.

“Unlike you, the staff seems to be serious with this Star Wars thing.” Stone points with his thumb at a sheet taped on the door. After decoding the sloppy handwriting, I read the following names on it:

EDDIE VADER

JEFF AMEN

MIKE MCREADY

STEVE GOSSARD

DAVE ABRUZESE

ABBRUZESE

ABBRUZZESE

“Excellent.” Stone mumbles.

“I think they expected your porn star alter egos.” Judy shrugs casually.

“Our what?” I glance at her furrowing my eyebrows.

“You know, porn actors and actresses all use stage names, borrowing those of celebrities. Of course they always change the spelling to avoid legal problems.” she picks the sheet at the typos in our names.

“And what kind of porn actor would call himself Eddie Vader?” I ask in disbelief.

“Maybe he’s the protagonist of a kinky, incestuous story flavored with father issues. And Jeff Amen…”

“…is the naughty parish priest of a sleepy, small town somewhere in Montana.” Judy finishes Stone’s sentence. “Whereas Mike McReady…”

“…bangs everything that moves and comes in like five seconds?” Stone chuckles and although Jude tries to keep a straight face, to my biggest surprise, I spot a mischievous sparkle in her eyes that sends a completely different message towards him. They team up and joke at someone else’s expense? That’s new to me.

“You…” I point alternatively at Judy and Stone, who are still staring at each other with the same half smile on their face “…you’re supposed to be enemies, okay?” They finally notice I’m talking to them and interestingly, they both rearrange their facial muscles into a nonchalant expression in a fragment of a second. “Anyway, what about Steve Gossard?”

“It’s pretty obvious. The crew of SNL wanted him to feel like a normal person, at least for one day.” Judy explains. “Of course they didn’t know that a proper name was barely enough but they gave it a try.” she adds fixing her glasses and avoiding Stone’s glance.

“You can joke with my name but it’s undeniable that my name is the coolest porn star name in the world. Get it, Stone, hard like a stone, the connection is undeniable.” he slaps back putting on his disarming smirk and does indistinct moves with his hands to underline his theory.

“No sane porn actor would use your name but you know what, if you feel better of that thought…” Judy shoots one more arrow saturated with sarcasm after Stone who started pacing towards the studio room in the meantime.

“I don’t have time for this right now. If anybody looked for me, I’m gone to find Sharon Stone. Who borrowed her name from you know whom…” he answers with a high-minded wave, not even looking back at her.

“Who exactly needs to relax?” I squint at her. Am I hallucinating or are her nostrils really fuming? She looks like a dragon that’s ready to burn down a whole metropolis.

“I’m relaxed, Mike.” she utters slowly. “I’ve never been more relaxed.”

We spend like half an hour in the dressing room before the rehearsal. Although Judy’s exercises are efficient, I still find this whole process more stressful than a simple sound check. There are cameras and fussy crew members everywhere, we’re even asked to do everything the same way as we will do it in the live show. Like it was possible to ask Ed bouncing both times in the same way or Stone bouncing during the sound check at all, which he never does anyway... It’s just ridiculous. The glass-wearing, stage manager called Joe has even to act like the host of the show announcing us and then clapping exactly for five seconds playing the audience… like we were in some fuckin’ theater.

After having played “Alive” and “Porch” umpteen times, the director shows up to discuss the details of the gag in which they want us to participate.

“So according to our conception, the scene begins with Sharon Stone sitting cross-legged in a chair, wearing her famous dress from Basic Instinct. He announces you and after a cut, the camera shows you staring at her with dropped jaws for a few second. Can you do it?” he shares the plot. He seems to be impatient, probably because of the tight schedule.

“What a great idea. Of course we can, we do that all the time, right, guys?” Ed mumbles in a colorless voice. He’s right, it sounds like a pretty schematic, cheap, sexist joke, which doesn’t really fit our style but luckily, we’re open about our principles enough not to compromise ourselves by doing it.

“But where’s Sharon Stone? We need her to the scene.” Stone insists; he’s the most enthusiastic from the band for obvious reasons.

“As I’ve said, there will be a cut in the scene, which means we don’t need her to be able to shoot your part. Ms. Stone hasn’t arrived yet, anyway.” the director tries to keep his temper but Stone isn’t really cooperative in this process.

“But I’m not an actor, I can’t pretend I’m watching Sharon Stone if I’m not. I’m afraid I can’t do it without her.” he shrugs flashing his most irritating lopsided grin.

“I’ll see what I can do. But you need to wear the same clothes as in the live show, so please, go and change…” the director decides to quit the conversation. I can understand him.

We gather again in the same room about ten minutes later.

“Where is Sharon Stone?” Stone repeats the million-dollar question like a broken record player.

“I am Sharon Stone.” I turn in the direction of the familiar male voice and I notice Joe, the grinning stage manager waving towards us. “At least for the next ten minutes. I can even sit in that chair like her if that helps you. But I’m not willing to put on that dress, I like this sweater better.” he remarks addressing his words to Stone.

“No… uhm…I don’t think it’d be necessary… I learnt how to use my imagination in the last ten minutes…” he mutters.

The makes a few takes of our dumbest stares but we’re not told which one is the winner. Not that I’m interested in any of them.

“Hey, stunned guy, you were awesome.” Jude nudges me while I’m heading back to the dressing room, which makes me start.

“Huh, what?”

“Your stunned face. I saw your acting performance in the control room, I think it was sweet.”

“Oh. Thanks.” I flush. Maybe I should practice how to look stunned… maybe she’s not the only Camden girl who thinks I’m sweet… Cool down, Cready, what if she’s a hideous, toothless frog?

“Hey, and what about me?” Jeff catches up to us, provoking Judy to compliment him too.

“Your face can’t even be seen of that fur hat… I could cut a few holes into it for your eyes, nose and mouth, if you want to.” she teases him, which he answers by sticking out his tongue at her.

“That’d be problematic. His brain has already grown to the hat, if you tried to cut into it, you would basically execute a lobotomy on him.” Stone maneuvers between them, to Jeff’s utmost delight.

“It’s like you and your scrunchie, right? It blocks your skull so that your cerebrum doesn’t fall out of your head and roll away during your head bobbing.” she imitates Stone’s typical, pigeon-like neck moves. After a quick half turn, Stone rambles on walking backwards.

“Why don’t we discuss your potato bag dress too… sorry!” he adds mechanically not even glancing at the tall, blonde woman into whom he’s just bumped. She looks familiar but I can’t recall if I have met her and if I have, where...

“Ha, Stone Gossard is trying to give me fashion advice, I like that…”

“Yes, maybe you should set your own house in order at first…” Jeff retorts too.

“…says the guy who sleeps wearing a hat.” Stone keeps torturing our bassist.

“How could he take it off? His brain…” Judy points at Jeff’s forehead.

“Don’t make me turn this car around...” Jeff grunts.

“But where’s Sharon Stone?”

***

I loathe restrooms of public places so much. Small, tight compartments, like this one. Even the lock is broken so I have to hold on to the door handle while I’m balancing over the toilet bowl of questionable tidiness. At least, I don’t have any company; I hate sharing my most intimate body functions and enjoying those of the others at the same time. Awkward sounds and unpleasant smells… I know it’s a natural thing but still… I’m almost ready when I hear the door squeaking and heels tapping on the tiled ground. Unfortunately the owner of the legs picks the compartment next to me… great, one can’t even finish her internal monologue without being bothered. Maybe if I don’t move and breathe, I can stay unnoticed.

“Damn.” I hear my neighbor cursing. “Hey… there’s someone over there, isn’t it?” I hear the voice again from the level of my ankles. Of course, she peaked around under the wall, next time I should crouch down on the top of the toilet. “There’s no toilet paper in this one, could you give me a few sheets? Just put them into my hand, I think I can manage to reach for them at the bottom…

“Sure…” I groan. And now? Should I ask her whether she wants to pee or…? I make a quick calculation and tear off and hand her the estimated needs of an adult woman with healthy digestive system. I can get a glance at hear shoes in the meantime, one could commit a suicide by jumping off them. I decide to sneak out while she’s doing her job (whatever it is) to avoid the usual embarrassing encounter. I’m already washing my hands when the entrance door opens and it is Beth who slams it behind herself with a victorious smile.

“Ha! There you are.”

“So now you’re even following me to the restroom too?” I ask sarcastically.

“It was you who forced me to do it. And neither of us will leave until you finally tell me what happened last night.” she leans her back to the door folding her arms.

“Nothing particular, I don’t know why…”

I forget to finish the sentence since the door of the occupied compartment gets suddenly kicked out and a blonde, tall, beautiful woman basically falls out in front of the sinks.

“Shit, it got stuck, I was already thinking I would die here… Gosh, I hate this dress so much, I’m going to set it on fire in the second my contract’s running out, I swear.” she fixes the tight mini dress she’s wearing. Let’s wait for a second… Is she? Oh my… She is.

“Judy, nothing and nobody can distract me this time, not even Sharon Stone.” Beth stares me with her coldest look.

“Oh, I don’t want to bother you, just finish the girl talk.” she remarks cleaning and drying her hands.

“So, are you willing to tell me what happened or should I pull everything word by word out of you?”

“Can I choose the word by word version?” my lips pull into an embarrassed smile but Beth’s reaction is crazier than expected. She turns the key in the lock and walks slowly to the toilet bowl in the closest compartment.

“Are you sure you don’t want to be more cooperative?” she flashes a somewhat terrifying grin and swings the key over the toilet.

“You can’t do it, you can’t take us hostage… you can’t take Sharon Stone hostage here. She needs to go back to the set.” I try to make her come around.

“Actually, I don’t feel like going back so I’d stay… if you don’t mind, of course.” the captured sex symbol ruins my argumentation.

“Great. A real girl party.” Beth confirms with a plastic smile. “So, what happened yesterday evening?”

“Yeah, what happened yesterday?” Sharon repeats the question curiously. “Do you mind if I…?” she pulls a cigarette and a lighter out of her tights and since we both shake our head, she lights up.

“She had a date with Jeff.” Beth explains with a meaningful look. “With Jeff Ament.” she adds realizing the name didn’t ring a bell with her. “With Jeff Ament from Pearl Jam.” she narrows it down seeing the still clueless face of our chat partner. “And now it’s time to share the details.” she turns back demanding to me.

“Okay…” I sigh and give them a quick review about the date, trying to stay as objective as possible, avoiding any forms of judgment and not leaving any occasion for speculations.

“And at the end, you chickened out and used the trick.”

“Seriously, Beth, what trick? Mike told me the same and…”

“So you’ve already discussed it with Mike!” she shouts outraged. “Anyway, I’m talking about the herpes trick, of course.”

“What???”

“Pretending to have herpes to avoid being kissed.” Sharon enlightens me making me feel week-minded.

“Who… who would do something like that?” I try to sound innocent.

“Oh, come on, sweetie. The herpes trick is older than herpes itself. It’s a part of the female toolkit.” she goes on taking a deep drag.

“Judy, there’s nothing wrong in acknowledging you got confused and made a desperate decision.” Beth mellows out. “You can talk to me about your insecurities, it’s not a shame. I was too pushy and I’m sorry for that but I really think he’s a great guy and deserves a chance.”

“I know, I just… I’ve known him for... how long? Two weeks? I barely know him! And the thought of him having known me for the same time and wanting to know me better… maybe not only as a friend… it freaks me out. I’m not saying I’m not interested in him at all, it’s just… too fast!” I blurt out finally.

“Okay. You know what? If you’re not sure about your feelings… or expectations… let’s make a checklist! I mean… you start listing the characteristics you like and want to find in a guy and I tell you if Jeff has them. I’ve known him for more than two weeks…”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ve started being interested in that Jeff guy too.” Sharon hops on the sink with a bright smile.

“Jesus… guys are not like shopping lists�� but okay, whatever!” I throw my arms in the air. “First of all… he must be reliable. I don’t like good-for-nothings.”

“Checked.” Beth nods satisfied.

“And… he must have a good sense of humor. If he can’t make you laugh or if he makes you explain your jokes, run!”

“Needless to say, but checked!” she confirms enthusiastically.

“The guy I’m looking for is… intelligent…”

“…checked…”

“…smart…”

“…checked…”

“…creative…”

“…checked…”

“…some talent doesn’t hurt either…”

“…some talent checked…” I can’t not notice that her voice gets more and more bored at every answer.

“He must be amusing and kind and funny as well. And interesting and gentle too.” I jabber in one breath.

“Checked, checked, checked, checked, checked… Come on, Judy, how long do you want to go on with this to believe he’s ideal for you?” she huffs impatiently.

“There’s one more thing.” I cut her off. “He… he must be attractive. Physically.” I feel my face reddening as I add the last word.”

“Checked.” she replies without hesitation. “Checked?” she repeats it with a questioning face and due to her reaction, I realize I’m scowling.

“I… I don’t know… I mean… he’s definitely not unattractive… but I’ve never felt that “let’s jump into bed immediately” vibe when being with him…” I try to express my feelings although the only thing I want to do is to mumble something indistinct and escape from this fuckin’ piss-smelling room.

“Now here’s the point!” Sharon exclaims and points at me holding her cigarette between her index and middle finger. “You don’t feel the buzz! Forget him.” she adds in a serious voice.

“The fact you don’t want to take him to bed immediately only means you’re not a slut. If a guy’s personality is likable, you can suddenly realize you’re attracted to him physically too. You should just spend some time with him without any pressure and let things happen.” Beth talks her over ignoring the advice.

“Bullshit! It’s not about having sex on the first date but there must be a spark… even if you don’t notice it immediately. Passion won’t grow out of nothing, trust me. Yes, passion, that’s the key. It isn’t worth a pile of shit if there isn’t any passion between you.” she flails intensely with the cigarette.

“Don’t listen to her, she doesn’t know any of you two.” Beth keeps persuading me and honestly, I don’t know whom I should believe.

“By the way, which one of the guys is Jeff? Is he the lanky one?” Sharon inquires while she’s stubbing the cigarette on the sink and then drops it into the trash bin.

“The tall, athletic one.” Beth helps her out. “The one with the hat.” she rolls her eyes seeing the uncomprehending expression of her.

“Oh. I thought he was the lanky one, with the ponytail.” she mutters disappointed.

“Ugh, Stone?” I groan in disgust.

“Yes, the one that almost hit me in the hallway. I heard you teasing each other, I thought something was going on between you. It looked definitely passion-like.”

“Wait, was that you?” I giggle.

“Yup. Wearing a leather jacket, denim pants and no makeup.”

“I have to tell this to Stone, he’ll freak out. He really appreciates your… ahem… talent… very much. Obviously not much enough to recognize you in “civil” clothes. Anyway, nothing is going on between us, let alone passion. Apart from the fact that we hate each other passionately.”

“Interesting, I could have sworn… But hate is a good start. Better than nothing. Have you ever tried hate sex?” she asks out of the blue.

“Excuse me, what?” I cackle.

“Of course, you haven’t. But you should. It’s hot.” she leans closer confidentially. “It makes things extremely complicated most of the times, but it’s hot. Anyway, what time is it? However much I’ve got fed up with drooling crew members, I should go back, they want to pre-record a few scenes…”

“Shit, it’s late you’re right. Beth, would you…?”

She fishes the key out of her pocket and unlocks the door unwillingly shaking her head.

“I hope you don’t let yourself be influenced by this… this… actress…” she whispers to me while we’re walking back to the studio room following the person in question.

“You mean by having sex with Stone?” I joke but Beth doesn’t seem to appreciate my humor so I go on sincerely. “Why would I? I’ve known her for like ten minutes. And I consider your advice but… you know it’s not as easy as you think, Jeff doesn’t stay away from me for a minute, the “without any pressure” factor depends on him too…”

“I see what I can do, don’t worry.” she smiles mysteriously in front of herself.

“Don’t you dare talk to him, do you want to ruin my life?” I scream-whisper since we’ve arrived to the waiting room in the meantime. The guys are talking standing in a circle apart from Stone who’s fixing his half ponytail with undivided attention in front of the mirror. What a narcissistic asshole.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be the prettiest poodle at the dog exhibition.” I remark casually as I pass him by.

“Do you prefer stray dogs?” he shouts after me in his irritating teenage guy voice. “Anyway, where is Sharon Stone?”

“I’m here and I’m ready for the action.” she answers in the steamiest tone I’ve ever heard and walks along the room with hypnotic hip moves.

“Stone, are you ready too?” I ask grinning ear to ear at my blushing enemy but I can’t enjoy his embarrassment for long since someone leans over my shoulder and sings two words into my ear.

“Hate sex…”

#pearljam #fan fiction #fanfic #pearl jam fanfiction #eddie vedder #stone gossard #MikeMcCready #jeff ament #dave abbruzzese #do you wanna dance

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castcharmperson · 6 years

Text

Taakitz: Crossover

What up!! It’s November!! Literally my only note to myself when writing this story was, and this is a direct copy-paste from my google doc, “For the love of god i gotta keep this one short or I’ll lose my mind.” AND NOW I HAVE 9k+ WORDS SO???

A thousand thank you’s to the folks behind @taakitzweek - participating was a joy and a privilege and gifted me this AU that I’m pretty sure will live in my heart forever. To be posted in six parts over the course of the next week. Please enjoy part one of Speed Trap, a b99 styled, white collar inspired, non-magical modern au where Taako does a crime and Kravitz absolutely does not get paid enough to deal with it. Warning for a paraphrase of the ‘tentacle your dick’ quote.

It wasn’t Taako’s fault that he got fired. The product was damaged, some kid was clumsy in the back of the shop, so the manager told Taako to throw out it. Sure, the eyeshadow palette was cracked, but other than that it was perfectly fine. Some pigment from the blue crossed into the green, but honestly, Taako had several outfits that would be amazing with that unique shade of teal. So the product was supposed to go in the trash, instead it ended up in Taako’s pocket. There was almost no difference between the two, especially when he changed out of his work uniform and into his black skinny jeans that were all but threadbare.

But then he was in the parking lot, sitting on the hood of his car and nowhere near the store, when his manager thought it’d be a great time to remind him that smoking would be the death of him. Seriously, Taako was off the clock and even if he wasn’t, his manager wasn’t his mom, don’t tell him what to do.

“Hey, why do you have one of our palettes in your pocket?”

So now Taako didn’t have a job. Again. He’d been lucky to score that easy gig, to have some sort of start at paying off his loans, but now he was blacklisted from the entire mall. And it wasn’t like he could work in any of the restaurants nearby because his asshole ex-boyfriend had literally soured every contact they had in the food industry.

Taako had three degrees to his name. He was an engineer and a chef, but even before his credibility was destroyed, the only thing his fancy education brought him was a bank account perpetually in the red.

“Hey Koko, you’re home early.” Lup shrugged off her uniform jacket and went directly to the fridge. Living with his sister was the best thing to happen to him since coming back from the nightmare Paris had turned into. She had a steady job, a dangerous one, but she was never late to pay rent like he always seemed to be. She was so patient with him, it almost felt unfair. She really should have kicked him out by now; instead, she constantly reminded him that his luck would change any day now. He’d catch his break, or there was always a job for him at the station.

He appreciated her offer, he really did, but Taako he knew he wouldn’t survive a day being a police officer. The idea of him being in uniform and competently saving lives was laughable. He barely managed to handle the stress of knowing his sister was putting her life on the line for this shitty city.

“Uh, yeah.” And he could not handle the stress of her knowing he got fired again.

“Everything okay? I know you’re manager’s a jerk but maybe-“

“They actually got fired today.” What? No, stop. He was not lying to his sister, she’d see right through him. Instead, Lup turned around grinning. “Yeah and um, I’m the new manager. Regional position, actually, pretty nice.”

“Taako!” She was hugging him and he felt sick. “That’s amazing! I told you things would turn around!” What happened to twin telepathy? Why did she believe him? Why was he lying to her??

She said something about a date with Barry, but Taako was barely listening. Now that he was thinking about it, it wasn’t surprising that she believed him; they didn’t keep things from each other, she had no reason to suspect anything.

Home alone again, the smart thing to do would be to tell her the truth. Text her. It would maybe ruin her date, but at least the fall out would be buffered until she got back home. Besides, date night with Barry meant the two of them were shopping for Mr. and Mrs. suitcase sets or some other gross couple-y nonsense. There wasn’t much to ruin. She’d be mad, but in time, everything would be fine.

Just sitting on the couch, phone in hand as he hovered over the digital keyboard, he was already nauseous from her imagined anger. Getting fired again was bad enough, but lying to her? Why did he say that?

The smart thing to do would be telling the truth. But the Taako thing to do would be to make the truth. He said he got promoted, new job, new hours, new money. All he had to do was find that job.

Next morning, he was out of the house before she even woke up. Note on the fridge, something vague about new hours for manager training and a breakfast pastry waiting for her, and she wouldn’t suspect a thing. Taako wasn’t sure where he was going to find this new truth of a job, but it had to be out there. The mall by the house wasn’t an option, but there were other malls and he had gas to burn after swiping that seemingly unlimited gift card off of some rich asshole a few months back.

Speeding down the highway, Taako forced himself to be hopeful. It was the tail end of fall, places would be hiring. The kids to help with the summer rush all had classes again and stores wanted to start preparing for the holiday rush. Lup was right, even if she didn’t know the whole picture. His luck was turning.

But maybe that luck was taking a smoke break as he heard sirens behind him. Glancing in the mirror, a cop car tailed him down the freeway. “Bullshit,” Taako cursed as he pulled over. Everyone sped down this stretch, why was he being pulled over?

He rolled down his window and was treated to someone glaring at him through a large pair of aviators. “Sir, do you know how fast you were going?” Ridiculous sunglasses matched with an equally ridiculous accent. No way that was real.

Taako couldn’t help himself, losing the fight against the grin taking over his face. “Blimey, officer, I ain’t sure.” It’d been over a decade since his and Lup’s high school stardom in a rather strange retelling of Oliver Twist but Taako’s accent was still more believable than the officer’s.

The officer’s brow twitched and then the glasses came off as though Taako’s joke might have somehow been a trick of his lenses. “Excuse me?” The accent was faltering worse now, but without the glasses, Taako was able to fully appreciate the man’s face.

“Oh wow, if all the cops were as handsome as you, I’d maybe be tempted to follow all the laws.”

The handsome man’s face twisted further in confusion. “What is wrong with you? I’m giving you a speeding ticket and you’re hitting on me?”

Taako just shrugged, but then the threat of a ticket finally sunk in. “Wait, shit, a ticket? Come on, I couldn’t have been going that fast.”

“I’ve certainly seen faster on this street, but eighty in a fifty five still isn’t great.”

Taako did the math real quick, facts and figures from Lup’s studying for the academy still fresh in his mind even though she’d graduated years ago. There was no way he could afford a ticket for going that high over the limit. “Okay hold on, hot stuff. Can’t you cut me a break? First time offense and all?”

“Not five seconds ago, you admitted to me that the lack of attractive police force was contribution to your history of crime.” His tone was turning amused now, seeming to enjoy the way the conversation had slipped back into his control. His smile was unfairly charming, even if the accent was still disastrous.

Taako couldn’t afford to be distracted though. “I’m not a criminal! Dude, come on, I will give you everything in my wallet if you don't ticket me.”

“Bribing an officer? I do not want to deal with the paperwork for that. Just stay here.” He started back to his squad car and Taako leaned out the window to holler after him.

“Come on, hot stuff, don’t be like this! At least lemme get that name, I’m about to suck your dick for free if I can’t do it to get out of a ticket!”

The officer ignored him, coming back to throw a slip of paper through Taako’s window. His sunglasses were back on, covering some of his face but not enough to hide the blush from what Taako had been shouting at him. “Do me a favor, Mr. Taako? Be a criminal in some other district because I would love to never ticket you again.”

At least the piece of paper gave Taako a name: K. Queen. Not that it meant anything with one of the most common last names in the city. Besides, Taako couldn’t exactly try to hook up with someone if he got arrested for overdue fines. Long after the officer drove off, Taako sat in his own car on the side of the highway. The price mocked him from the piece of paper, like it knew he’d never afford it and rent at the same time.

Another car zoomed past him, easily going over the eighty Taako had been caught for. If only he could pull over that guy, charge him in order to pay off his own ticket. It’d be fair- there were drunk drivers and reckless assholes all over this stupid city. They should be getting ticketed, not him!

Wait… That wasn’t a bad idea.

[Part Two]

Please come scream at me in my ask box about this AU because even after I post all of this fic I might write little bonuses for it. And thanks so much for reading! I know I am well past the taakitz week deadline for posting this. If you want to, check out my charmedwords tag for more taz fics!

#taz #The Adventure Zone #fanfic #taakitz #2taakitz2week #taz taako #taz kravitz #taz lup #mentions of barry #mentions of blupjeans #au #speed trap au #title subject to change if someone sends me a better idea #charmedwords #how did this turn into 9k??#and i still have to edit the other five parts AND YOU KNOW i'll add more words in the edit because i always do

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kindabraveandlittlestupid · 6 years

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Fantasy Vacations

I took some time to think about the fictional places I love to visit; either to go to school, drink, dance, party, read books, swing a sword or simply just explore the local culture. Below you will find 47 of the best must-visit fictional locations (according to me) and some reasons why I would love to go there. Don’t take this to serious it's all written for shits and giggles. Let me know if I made any mistakes or if you have any late additions and thanks for reading.

Regards, Michael California

Alpha The City of a Thousand Planets

Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets did not do well in the theaters, to say the least, it was poor casting choices that sunk it. However, the opening of the movie with ‘Alpha’ growing in mass starting off as the original International Space Station and adding alien visitors over time before becoming a massive city in space was a pretty cool concept and scene to watch to the music of David Bowie. With 3,236 unique species on board, there is a real chance you could live there your whole life and still not meet every kind of alien life form. Who wouldn't want to live in a hub of alien cross-cultural?

Arrakis

The “Spice Must Flow” and “Fear Is The Mind Killer”. Arrakis and the book Dune, which is celebrated in Scifi much the same way Tolkien is celebrated in Fantasy, is a sand world with giant worms, a scarcity in water and a world in the center of political conflict all in the name of Spice, a mind/body-altering drug that extends life and allows space travel. Arakis is hardly a place you would want to go on holiday but you go to a place like this for cultural depth of the Fremen people and if you’re lucky, ride on the back of a Sandworm. Which frankly is good enough for me. Please note consumption of spice may turn your eyes blue.

Asgard

A city of gold floating in the heavens and home to literal gods? Asgard has a lot to offer in the way Norse Culture and would be my kind of place to visit. It’s one of a few vacation spots on this list that might be considered a utopia even if you're under a Mythical Monarchy; a balance between a combat culture, art, music, literature, rowdy partying and it also happens to be the center of the Nine Realms giving you access to the other worlds to explore. I suppose the greatest feature (despite the golden architecture) is the flat slab that holds itself in space and defying science and reason. This is about the only place Flat-Earthers would be correct (save the Disc World which is another flat earth on the backs of elephants on the back of a planet-sized turtle which makes about as much sense as Flat-Earth Science).

Atlantis

I had to make a tough choice between the DC Atlantis and the Stargate Atlantis. Considering I can't breathe underwater and I already have the Themyscira from Wonder Woman and Rapture from Bioshock I opted for Atlantis from Stargate. This vacation spot is at best a weekend trip with mostly the same alien architecture to see but with the Stargate being in the middle of the facility it perhaps opens THE most options for day trips to various alien worlds across the universe, even more so then Asgard with the nine realms. So it makes it onto my list.

Bay City

Only once I started writing this list did I find that there is a lot of sci-fi love for New York City and San Francisco (I imagine Tokyo would also make the top 5). The show Altered Carbon takes place in a city called Bay City which is San Francisco unless someone else built another Golden Gate Bridge and covered it with shipping container apartments (cool concept). This city is all about vice and digital pleasures much the same way Future LA is in Blade Runner. Despite having its gritty side this place no doubt has a lot to offer in regards to a nightlife and what I hope is a great selection of food. Just let me pull on my long black leather trench coat with neon trim.

Canto Bight

A clever ‘twist’ the Tattooine trope from Star Wars is Canto Bight. Basically suggesting crime doesn't always start from the bottom up but sometimes the top down. While this whole part of the story was literally pointless to plot and outcome of the Last Jedi, I can appreciate another location being added to the vast universe (had it not been cut back by the idiots at Disney). Point is it’s a lavish location with gambling and ritzy living so long as you don't peel back the finish and realize it is basically built on slave labor. Oh, Capitalism.

Castle Black

While Castle Black is basically filled with bastards, volunteers, and criminals it makes a pretty good metaphor for aimless people joining the military. Only your enlistment is forever, you're stationed next to an ice wall and on the other side of that wall is ice hillbillies and nightmares. I do actually like some seclusion for some holidays and this works well if I take a bunch of books and mead and spend 3 months reading by a fire while doing some sword practice in the yard with the Crows. Sounds kind of peaceful and I might get to pee off the wall.

Citadel

Yet another superstructure in space shared by multiple species. The Citadel caught many gamers imagination both being a massive space city but also the seat of power between the various sentient species in Mass Effect. The Citadel (like most future cities) has its extreme highs (wealth and luxury) and deep lows (poverty and criminal underworlds). Granted its criminal world is nowhere near Omega’s level of corruption but if Canto Bight showed us anything is corruption can start from the top. The real reason to go here is to party the nights away and drink a bunch, kind of like Singapore and like Singapore, after a week you pretty much hit all the hot spots and ready to move on.

Cloud City

Cloud City for me isn't THAT exciting to go by myself but with my significant other for either honeymoon or weekend getaway? It perhaps can a nice place to relax, stay in a comfortable room, go on long walks, enjoy nice meals and take cloud tours flying around the gas giant and seeing the massive vapor plumes. That doesn't sound so bad, does it?

Columbia

Columbia is a proper steampunk sky city which is nothing short of elegant, beautiful and a marvel in itself. I always wondered how people breathed so high up but that's far from the only concern if you visit a city like this. Behind the vale of beauty is a hyper-religious society, fascism, and racism all hanging in the heavens like some sort of GOP paradise where anyone non-white is kinda screwed. If we managed to cut out the lingering problems of Conservatism in Columbia, this place would be a paradise! Just watch your step its a long way down and railings are only hip high.

Coruscant Jedi Temple

The Jedi Temple, Hogwarts, Highland Mountain, and Kamar Taj all represent a kind of school/academy. An I might make another list of fictional educational institutes we all wish we could sign up for later but as of right now we are on vacation and the Coruscant Jedi Temple has much the same appeal as Castle Black with books to read and swordplay in the afternoon and peeing off one of the spires (preferably off the middle one where the Jedi Council convenes). Naturally, I have also the whole planet to explore but spending time with mystical philosophical laser sword wielding space mages sounds like a pretty unforgettable encounter.

Diagon Alley

Presently the shortest visit on the list, Diagon Alley is pretty much a long street of shops for people to get their magic on. I do enjoy some window shopping and strange old things but really we are here to get spells and wands no? I can't imagine being here more than a few hours but I can see Diagon needing multiple visits because you are bound to miss something and need to make a second trip to fucking find it.

Diamond City

I was split between Diamond City and Megaton as two fallout locations to add to my list. Ultimately living next to a nuclear bomb drove me away from Megaton and living in a baseball field turned fortress appealed to me. I love the care put into the creation of this city by Bethesda, I know I give them a hard time for their multiplayer and money grabbing for mods but the effort put into Diamond City makes it seem like a viable and logical settlement in the Fallout Universe... hell I am thinking about playing that game now after writing this. Oh, what is there to do here? Not much save eat and drink and pee off one of the front walls on some Super Mutants.

L.A. 2049

Where Bay City was full of sexy holograms, L.A. 2049 is full of sexy synthetics. Really though this setting really established the idea of Cyberpunk for a lot of people and have one of the early images of vast American cities being pushed closer together and then reaching towards the sky. Like so many other settings it's overcrowded and has its dark side but dark sided cities tend to have some interesting nightlife and like Bay City you can probably do a lot with your time and money assuming you have a lot of both.

Gotham City

You can probably get more out of Future LA or Bay City then you could from Gotham which is why I won't be trying to sell you on the city. I hear they have a big crime problem and lots of people dressing up as bats. Don’t get me started on this Police zeppelins humming around and shining a spotlight through your window at 2 AM. No, you went to go to the Ice Berg Lounge for some late night Jazz, catch Haly’s Circus when it comes through town, and visit the various museums across the city. Just don’t take any shortcuts and if at all possible pay for a driver to take you around the city, the locals know which areas are safe.

Highland Mountain

I imagine many of you are thinking “What is Highland Mountain?” and I am glad you asked inquisitive Tumblrs. Highland Mountian is the secret location for the Spartan-II program on the Planet Reach. In other words, this is where Master Chief had his survival training and general training to become a Spartan. If you’re still not with me it's from the video game Halo. Like the Jedi Temple it is more fun to be trained here but as a vacation option, I like camping with some Spartans and roughing it on the frosty mountains in some power armor playing war games. It’s like paintball with soldiers if the soldiers were 7 feet tall and flip over a tank with their bare hands.

Hogsmeade

A cozy little-frozen town in Britain called Hogsmeade is basically the main settlement of non-muggles beyond Hogwarts or so Wikipedia tells me. It’s a magical town and has lots to offer in the way of shopping much like Diagon Alley. The benefit of this community is that it is a community; bars, library, shops, restaurants, and more can be found here. Good for a romantic getaway or even raising your kids and making Snowmen during the winter. What else is there to say?

Hogwarts

Say what you will but I imagine Hogwarts might take one of the top 5 places people would love to see. It’s magical, hidden, filled with secrets and a rich history to get emerged into. Despite being just the right age when these books first came out (I was like 12 or 13), I still have not read them (I know... I deserve your ire). Truth is we all kinda wish we could go to school there, personally, I can see myself just reading all the time and experimenting with magic 24/7. I can only imagine how much trouble I might get in with spells/potions going wrong.

Jurassic Park

Not exactly a good track record for Jurassic Park but quite honestly the people overseeing this parks (in regards to the movies) despite being the most brilliant minds in their fields appear to be inept over and over again, as bad as the Sticky Bandits from Home Alone. Beyond that point, a day vacation with the family to Jurassic Park would be amazing and perhaps something we would indulge in every couple of years. Easy to imagine the kids losing their fucking mind over Dinosaurs but then again so would I.

Kaer Morhen

Hard stretch to call Kaer Morhen a school mostly because the students are all old men already trained to kill monsters. This is less about vacationing at this castle and more about living there and fixing up the place. Really, I feel like its the perfect little slice of Scandinavian land to build a long-term residence at. If I was to stay here as vacation spot pretty much reach Castle Black again and repeat without the wall and white walkers.

Kamar Taj

Another school of magic where Dr. Strange learned his abilities along with many other students of magic. I appreciate the seclusion of it. Kind of a Castle Black feels with a pinch of Hogwarts. Like the Jedi Academy, the ‘students’ here are very much adults and there is an appeal to that considering I am 32 now.

King’s Landing

Really though King’s Landing pretty much only works as a vacation spot if you are A) staying at the Red Keep and B) having a bachelor party to enjoy the brothels. Not that any of us would do that sort of thing...

Labyrinth

You can either assume this trip will take a few days or a few months. I like the Labyrinth for the same reasons I love Myst and Wonderland. A strange world and I love a good puzzle. Not sure how I feel about the Goblin King and his junk in spandex... I mean I don’t want to rain on his parade but I think I might do the maze in reverse instead of seeing him do his “Dance Magic Dance” in his castle with his junk in my face. No issues here if you’re a gay guy or straight girl that would love King Bowie to do that to you.

Mother’s Cradle

In a world where machines have taken over and humanity had been regressed to primitive tribes, Mother’s Cradle is a secluded valley of protection and nature. If you ever played Horizon Zero Dawn, you can see how peaceful that place is and could easily imagine building a home there and living off the land. I enjoy city living the most but even I can't resist Mother’s Cradle and the community that lives there.

Myst

Who doesn't love a good puzzle? Like the Labyrinth, this place is all about sharpening your wits and solving the puzzles in the world of Myst. I would suggest above all other things take a notebook with you because some things need to be written down. Did I mention it has multiple words you teleport too by opening a book.

New New York

I always wondered why the waterline in New New York in the Fifth Element is so low, really wish someone would explain that to me. Anyways it's better than Waterworld and its good to see the big apple become so large that it absorbed New Jersey. Like most big cities the nightlife would be awesome but why I really want to go here is for the fast food and flights to other planets. I won't lie the uniforms in the future are all about dressing to impress the customers and that's kinda hot. Looking at you McDonalds Girls from 2263AD

New Vegas

It’s like the Wild West with gambling, mutants, robots, and atomic weapons. You already know Fallout from Diamond city but New Vegas brings its own charm with the gambling scene. I imagine the Sin City is still very sinful and perhaps more violent. You can get into a lot of fun trouble here and who wouldn't want too. It’s Vegas!

Omega

If you were to combine the Citadel with New Vegas then Omega would be the outcome. This mining colony/way station is where crime comes to make a name for itself. The various Mass Effect species can be found within and most of them fight for territories inside its walls. It’s the sins you come from for like gambling, drinking, dancing, fucking, and fighting that make Omega so great. Don’t worry do you don't need to indulge in them all.

Pandora

Camping may not be an option in Pandora for humans but with some extra suspension of belief that you can either breath the air without it being toxic or perhaps have a Na’vi body waiting for you. The wildness of Pandora appeals to the hiker in me. I would want to climb the trees and the floating mountains, fly a wild beast or ride a wild horse in this world. The bioluminescence of the world draws me to explore it at night even with the predators lurking about.

Rapture

From my understanding, Rapture throws a hell of a New Years party. Such a crazy party that it turned into a revolution but that's a different issue altogether. The city under the sea makes my list as a more desirable alternative to that of Atlantis with me lacking gill and all that. Like Tomorrowland, this city is driven by progress and is a libertarians wet dream that is until you realize there are always people looking to take power and that being a Libertarian Society is a fantasy.

Risa

This might be the #1 vacation spot on this list because the whole damn world is about fulfilling desires and vacationing. Want to hide away and read a book? Go for it. Massages all day? No problem. Walk out into the ocean and find a boat serving sushi? Apparently, that's a thing from a Star Trek episode. It’s paradise and with their weather controls, there is never a cloudy day at their beaches. Doesn't hurt Risa women are all basically supermodels.

Rivendell

Rivendell, yet another peaceful refuge away from the harsh world. I can imagine this place having comfortable rooms and library somewhere to read. Granted I can't read elvish so I hope they have some proper English books among their shelves. If I do get bored I imagine hiking/climbing the surrounding cliffs and forest might be an option. I am sure I will piss of some elves exploring their hideaway.

San Fransokyo

Not the first movie to combine cities into something new. I admit I do love the like the new look of San Francisco and how it makes the world of big hero six feel. I think what makes me want to see this city so much is their altered architecture and more importantly the food that comes with this deep blend of Western/Asian culture. The sushi, the Kobe burgers, and literally everything else is gonna be leaps and bounds better then either city did on their own.

Skellige

There is no party like Skellige Party! Not true Asgard might throw down hard with this Nordic Pirate/Fishing community of the northern islands. Basically, the number one reason to go here is to drink or go to a royal party where you feast, fight, fuck, and drink some more. Don’t think that men have a run at the place, Skellige woman can fuck you up if you don't treat them right. Consider this a helpful PSA.

Skyrim

Truth be told if Skyrim (was to scale) of the real world, it's not a very big province or even plot of land. Think about how fast you can run from one side of the map to the other? What 15? 20 minutes at the most? That's why I kept this location as a broad vacation spot because the keeps aren't THAT big but each one has enough charm that it justifies you visiting them all and get a taste for each unique area. Like Kaer Morhen this place is all about settling down and making a life for yourself. Hell, you could pick flowers all day and sell that to shop and make that your living. Not saying you should make that your career but you could.

Starfleet

The third and final nod to San Francisco on this list (told you they got a lot of love). I always found it interesting that Gene Roddenberry would establish the federation in San Francisco. I might look that up but with the options of London, New York, Washington, and other locations making just as much since he still settled on SF as the home base for Star Fleet. Anyways I wanna go to school here because you know... space travel, alien babes, seeing new worlds and all that jazz.

Stark Tower

There is no doubt the Stark Tower has a stocked fridge, great food, killer view of the city, and a fully automated AI to improve your day (even if she is watching you shower). The fun of Stark Tower requires one thing and that is for you to invite people to come to a killer party on these top floors. I think we can all agree once you have the party rolling that it will likely go to the break of dawn.

Stormwind

I have no strong Allegiance Alliance or Horde one way or the other. Truth be told I play Warcraft 3 and then stopped never getting into WoW. I suppose the draw of fantasy species pulls me here much the same way it pulls me towards Lord of the Rings. I imagine if you find the might pub you can have a good time but the places of magic will have good books. I suppose I could wander into the forest and bath in a Moonwell and hope for a chance encounter with the Night Elves.

The Shire

It doesn't take much to imagine that food-based holidays are a big hit with hobbits. So if I was to vacation here Thanksgiving (assuming they celebrated it) or something like it would be the time to visit. Eating, dancing, drinking, and fireworks. Yes, I realize I would be a giant among them and hit my head but I am ok all the same staying in their small community.

Themyscira

Clearly, a theme in some of these hypothetical visits is to meet hot girls. On one hand, I should know better than to post such things because admitting anything like that on Tumblr is slightly sacrilege but you know what fuck that I want to go to an island full of beautiful strong independent women dammit. I don’t mind strong woman, I don't mind a matriarchy society and I don't mind admitting that I like looking at a beautiful woman and I wouldn't mind making love to Amazonian beauties on their beaches. So sue me! I fucking love women.

Thessia

Read the Themyscira post above. Same thing. Only they are a blue alien woman named Asari and apparently they can do something like a “Vulcan Mind Meld” in the bedroom. Sexy.

Tomorrowland

As someone who’s always wondered what society MIGHT be like without religion and uninhibited society focused on knowledge over profit and power, Tomorrowland is an expression of that or at least what I hope it would be like. This is the sort of place you to be impressed by the technology and the marvels of invention. I can imagine flying around a jetpack, experiencing new depths to virtual reality, zero gravity chambers, teleportation and pretty much every other sci-fi invention you can dream up will likely be found here. Hell, I don’t want to visit the world of Tomorrow I want to live there.

New Tristram

Probably the worst place to visit on my list with all the undead and demons and all that. I can't help but find Tristram a little enchanting with the Gothic Ruins and struggle that is found there. Diablo (the game) has a habit of having building look small on the outside big on the inside which is fine. I personally would like to wander into the layers below and crawl through those dungeons and collect loot. I am not sure if this is still a vacation or some sort of video game fantasy I like to live out.

Tron City

Tron City pretty much feels like nighttime 24/7 but with the arena combat, the races, and the high rise clubs. Its hard not admit there is something exciting about being on the grid. I personally love to derezz myself and spend a few weeks in the world of Tron and maybe bring back Siren or two.

Wakanda

Birnin Zana is the capital of Wakanda and that is what you see in the picture just in case you didn't know that fun fact. The city itself draws me with lots of things; food, music, culture, technology, and architecture. I medium of all things I imagine my stay could be a week or two before I seen everything I care to see. I can imagine (while not really suggested in the movie) that there is a great nightlife here and very engaged community.

Winterfell

Yet another getaway to swing swords, practice archery, read books and ride horses. Winterfell (despite being apparently the middle of nowhere) is the kind of keep I would love to live in. Not by myself mind you but with a community of people upkeeping the keep. Its a good balance of community and seclusion to read my books. Sansa Stark can keep me company under the animal skins.

Wonderland

Wonderland, you go for the Tea Parties and you stay for the Mushrooms. Pretty much a long acid trip, Wonderland gives you the excuse to bend your mind and alter your perception on reality while encountering a variety of strange and wonderful... um... people. I wouldn't mind making this trip with Alice herself (or the White Queen) but I can make do with going with my friends and ‘feed’ our heads.

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yournewapartment · 7 years

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Do you have like a checklist or something of things that need to be done before you can move out? I have over a year to get ready, but I'm not certain what "ready" means exactly. What needs to happen before a person can live on their own (in the USA)? Thanks for answering, love your blog!

I’m realizing now that I have lots of posts that detail different parts of this moving into a new apartment process, but none that discuss everything. So this post is essentially a conglomerate of four different posts: Adulting 108, Moving (On Your Own), Living On Your Own, and Apartment Hunting 101.

But here they are, in step by step order! Enjoy!

Finding an Apartment (Apartment Hunting 101)

Overview: There’s no getting around it, apartment hunting is a stressful process. The waiting and wondering gets the best of everyone, so give yourself a break and remember not to be too hard on yourself. The more prepared and decisive you are, the better off you’ll be!

1. Step One: The most important step in this entire process is coming up with your list of “Need and Won’t”. This list can always be adjusted in the spur of the moment, but will act as a baseline to help you easily disregard impractical apartments. Before you even start your search, sit down with any roommates (SO or otherwise) and come up with a list. Here is my list:

Need: Dishwasher, pet friendly, heat included.

Won’t: First floor apartment, all or mostly carpeted apartment, no closet space.

2. Step Two: Decide your price range. The paycheck to paycheck life is not a great one to live, so try to find an apartment that still allows you to put anywhere from $100-$500 into savings every month. Figure out how much you make monthly, with taxes taken out. If you’re paid every other week, this is two paychecks. If you’re paid every week, this is four paychecks. Start with your total monthly income, and subtract the following expenses. Let’s say you make $1,000 with taxes taken out:

Rent - Let’s say you’re living with a roommate, and your rent is only $500 per month.

Electric - My electric expense is $60 a month for a one bedroom. Once again, you’re living with a roommate so let’s say that you pay half of that. $30.

Internet - $30 a month internet only. Please don’t waste your money on cable. Just use your mom’s Netflix account.

Travel expenses - I spend about $85 a month on gas. Let’s say you use public transportation and spend around $100.

Food - Figure you’ll be spending $100 per person each month. So that’s another $100.

Misc expense: Let’s just add an additional $50 worth of expenses on. Because you never know what’ll happen.

That leaves you $130 a month extra to put in savings or to use in the event of an emergency! That’s awesome. Substitute your own numbers in, and figure out how much you can afford for rent. Immediately disregard any apartments that do not fit in this budget.

3. Step Three: The best way to find dependable apartments is to consult with your fellow apartment renters. Consult with coworkers, friends, family- anyone who is currently renting in the area that you would like to rent in. Get the inside scoop on potential apartments, both their advantages and their pitfalls. If you don’t know anyone who is renting where you’d like to rent, here are some other apartment hunting options:

Craigslist: Obviously

Drive-bys: Literally drive around until you find a cool looking apartment complex. Find their rental office and go right in, this is how I found my first apartment.

Your college: The Dean’s Office will have a list of apartment offerings to give kids who don’t qualify for on-campus housing.

This Site: A list of the top ranked apartment hunting sites.

4. Set up an appointment: After finding a potential apartment, consult with the landlord or apartment representative to set up a date and time to see the apartment. Respond promptly to any email or phone call they leave for you. On the flip side, if they aren’t prompt in their response to you RUN.

The first apartment I ever looked at, my boyfriend and I showed up on time and the landlord wasn’t there. We called her and she said that she was running late, and told us that the apartment was open and we could show ourselves inside. Serious red flag, but we gave it the benefit of the doubt and went in. Long story short, she never showed up. She gave us a tour of the apartment over the phone and kept saying that she was five minutes away, but never came. We later found out that her rental office was two minutes from the apartment we looked at. Talk about flakey! We told her we weren’t interested, if she can’t even show up to show us the apartment, how the hell can we depend on her to fix any problems we might have? Because you’re young and inexperienced, some landlords will try to give you the run around. Your age is no concern of their’s, and has no bearing on how you will act as a tenant. Here are some red flags for flaky landlords:

Not contacting you within one day of leaving them a message. Disregarding the weekends.

Not showing up when they say they will.

Repeatedly telling you that you’re “young” or “inexperienced”.

Telling you that the apartment “is good for college kids” or “a good first apartment” (that just means it’s a shit hole).

If they tell you that the apartment has a large turnover (people are leaving for a reason).

If you speak with one person on the phone, and meet a different person who shows you the apartment.

If they can’t or refuse to give you the exact rent amount.

If they tell you that have to “run some numbers” based on your history. An apartment’s rent should be the same for everybody.

If they can’t answer basic questions about service providers for the apartment.

If you get a weird vibe from them. Listen to your intuition! This is the person who is going to be responsible for fixing all your apartment related problems, you will be dealing with them every month at least. If they seem unreliable, don’t sign the lease!

5. Step Five: Find your appointment buddy! Never, ever, EVER go to look at a potential apartment by yourself. I don’t care how friendly Wendy seems online, she may be a serial killer. There’s no way to tell. Here’s a list of people who can accompany you:

Your older brother

Your boyfriend/girlfriend

Your Aunt Meredith

Your second cousin

Your friend who can scream really loudly

Your Mother

Your Step Mother

Your old nosey neighbor who smells like cats

Literally anyone you can trust

Bribe them with chocolate, I don’t care. Take someone with you! If you absolutely cannot find anyone to go with you, then you need to take additional precautions. Here are some options:

Kitestring

“Share My Location” on your Iphone

Pepper Spray

Posting to Facebook the address you are going to and when you are expected to arrive and leave.

Rescheduling your appointment to a date and time when you can be accompanied

Apartment Checklist

A mental checklist is good in theory, but will you remember it when you’re actually at the prospective apartment with your Aunt Meredith? I think not! Make a physical list of some of the following points, and feel free to add your own. my list is super extensive, but that’s just who I am. I am detail oriented.

Tuck this list in your back pocket and consult it when the person showing you the apartment is not looking.

Expense related

How much is the rent?

Is the rent just the rent, or are there any amenities included? Some apartments include heat, hot water, or electric expenses.

Is hot water included (if the apartment has a washer/dryer in it, then the water is probably a separate expense)?

What Internet service providers are available?

What electric service providers are available?

Do I have to pay for garbage removal?

What is the average electric expense that other renters deal with?

Ask when rent is due. Find out what the rent check procedure is.

Basic

What type of heating/cooling is provided?

What appliances are in the kitchen? *If there is no oven or fridge and you are required to buy your own then run*

What is the apartment complex turnover rate?

Do you have a choice of carpet vs. hard wood floors?

Will window blinds be provided? *If the apartment complex won’t pay for something as simple as window blinds then the landlord is a cheapskate and can’t be trusted*

Is there a “curfew”? Most apartments have a time of night when all the tenants are supposed to be quiet. This is generally not enforced.

What will your address be?

Additional

Is any furniture included?

Is there a Laundromat in the complex? If not where is the closest one?

Similarly, is the Laundromat in the complex card operated or quarter operated? Do you have to pay a fee for the card? Is there a quarter dispensing machine?

Will you be given a free parking permit? *If parking is not free then run*

Ask about local shopping and gas stations.

Ask where your mailbox will be.

Ask what their pet policy is. (some apartment complexes charge an fee)

Ask what their policy on repainting/decorating is.

Ask what their maintenance request policy is.

Ask where the nearest dumpster is.

How often does the complex loose power?

Is there a nearby police station or fire department?

General check

Check all cabinets (for bug infestations or mouse droppings or that they open properly).

Open all the windows and check to see that there are screens installed. Especially important for us cat owners! If there are no screens- are they going to install screens before you move in?

Check that all the light switches work.

Check that the water turns on.

Flush the toilet.

Check all the closet space (for size, mold, and water damage).

Check how all the doors are set (some apartments will put doors in incorrectly and they’ll never close properly).

Check the outlets (bring a phone chord and plug it in).

Check any balcony access.

Take a look at the paint- is it chipped? Is it stained? Will they be repainting?

Knock on the walls to see how hollow they are (hollow walls require studs if you want to hang anything up).

Open up the oven and make sure it’s clean. If it’s not clean make it clear that it should be cleaned if you want to move into the apartment. It’s not your job to clean up after the previous tenant.

Check that none of the floorboards are sticking up/creaking.

Check for nails and screws in between hardwood floor, tile and carpet (I’m not even kidding).

Check your phone to see how much cell service you have.

Can you hear any neighbors? Could you hear them in the hallway?

Final Decision

If the apartment you visited fits all your criteria, feel free to tell the landlord that you’re interested in pursuing this apartment. This way they can advise you of the next steps. Before you sign ANYTHING, visit the apartment complex twice more to make sure that everything is kosher. Do NOT tell the landlord that you will be coming by.

During the day: Do a drive-by of your prospective apartment to see what it looks like during the day. Is it safe? Are there lots of people standing around outside? Is it loud?

During the night: Come back another night to check the safety of your apartment. Ask yourself- would I feel comfortable taking the trash out late at night? Having friends over? If the answer is “no” then run…

Applying to Rent the Apartment

Overview: After choosing an apartment that you like, there are lots of steps that need to be taken before you can actually move in.

1. Rental application. You will need to fill out some sort of rental application when applying for an apartment. You’ll be asked for previous addresses (if you’ve lived in previous apartment complexes landlords will actually call and ask about how good of a tenant you were), if you’ve been convicted of a crime, pay stubs, references and/or credit information. If you don’t have a credit score, some complexes will require you to co-sign the lease with someone who does, like a parent. If a landlord does NOT ask you to fill out any kind of application, I’d advise you to run for the hills and not rent from them.

2. Approval. Apartment complexes will mail you a packet of information after you’ve been approved. This will list your new address, what power company services are available, apartment amenities, school districts, local attractions, as well as your next steps. My current apartment complex also mailed me what Internet providers are available, which was a nice extra bonus.

3. Initial expenses. Your next step will be to put down a “security deposit”. This will either be exactly the same or very close to the amount you pay for rent monthly. This deposit ensures that you don’t destroy the apartment, if you do they won’t refund you. You will also be asked to pay your first month’s rent in advance. Most rental companies will only accept money orders for these initial expenses, you have to go to your bank to get these. They’re essentially checks that take the money out of your account right away.

4. Apartment check. After you’re approved for an apartment, ask to see the actual unit that you’ll be moving into. Make sure that you see said apartment before signing any lease. Notice how loud your neighbors are, how good of a cell signal you have, the condition of the apartment, etc. This is a pretty extensive list.

Before You Move

1. List it up. Make a list of everything that you will need to accomplish before you are ready to move. This includes items that need to be packed, people that need to be contacted, pet accommodations, etc. I love lists, but you may not, so use any organizational technique that works for you.

2. Divide and conquer. After you’ve made your list, organize items based off of how much time they’ll take you. Packing will be fairly time-consuming, so this is something you’ll want to invite friends over for and break up over several days. I like to have “moving” parties whenever I’m getting ready to move, essentially I buy some chips and dip, play some Trap, and invite my friends over to act as my minions. Something like canceling your subscription to Cosmo will take you very little time and energy to do, so it’s something you can do when you’re ready for a stress-free activity.

3. Contact companies. Speaking of canceling your Cosmo subscription, you will need to update your address with all of the companies you use. If you’re no longer going to be using that company, you’ll need to call them and tell them when to end your service. If you’re going to continue to using that company, you’ll have to call them and tell that you’ll need an address change. Give them the exact date you’ll be moving so that they can backdate your information. Some examples of companies:

DMV in the county you’re moving to (if you’re going to drive)

Your doctor’s office

Your college (even if you graduated, they send out alumni letters all the time)

Your credit/debit card company

Your bank

Your phone company

Any government programs you’re a part of

Any companies that you have loans with

Your health insurance company

Your auto insurance company

Amazon

4. Pre-move in List. Make a shopping list of all the non-perishable items you will need before moving in. I’m talking trash cans, first aid kits, toilet paper, laundry detergent, etc. I like to work on this list over the span of several days, and do a large shop before moving in. Your moving day will be stressful enough as it is, don’t add the stress of missing something you need. Here’s a pretty good list.

5. Electric set-up. Use the information packed your landlord sent you to find out who your electricity provider is. Call them, you’ll probably get a pre-recorded message. Choose the option that says something along the lines of “set up electricity”. You will be connected to an actual human being, who will ask you to read your new address. Tell them to turn on power to your apartment a couple days before you move in. They will set up a billing plan with you (ask to be put on a budget, it’ll save you lots of money) and give you your account information.

6. Internet set-up. Setting up your internet is similar to setting up your electric, but a bit more hand’s on. Most cable/internet companies always have some sort of deal going on, a year or two years of discounted service. Be aware of when this discount will end, and contact the company to see if they can offer you a new deal. If Verizon is offered in your area, I strongly advise you to use them for Internet service. i was on a two year plan with them that saved us $40 a month on internet service, and after it ended they put us on a new plan that is now saving us $42 a month. Fuck yeah! Also make sure to set your internet installation date for the day after you move in, so that you’re not stuck sitting in your internet-less apartment, unable to read my blog. Know that most internet companies charge installation and routers fees, and if you complain enough they’ll drop one or both of these. Just be like “I’m a poor college student” or threaten to go to another internet company.

7. Send ahead. If possible, send/drop off some of your items ahead of time. If you have a family member or a friend that lives nearby where you’ll be staying, ask if they can hold a few boxes for you. You can also mail yourself packages and ask your local post office to hold them for you, but you’ll need to arrange that ahead of time.

8. Forwarding address. You will inevitably forget something, so make sure to leave your forwarding address and contact information with your ex-landlord, college, ex-roommate, etc.

9. Signing the Lease. The last thing you will do before moving into your new apartment is signing a lease. You will be given a copy of the lease to keep, as well as the key to your apartment and/or laundry key. Keep your copy of the lease in a safe place, and make sure to get duplicates of your apartment keys.

During Moving

1. Take your time. Don’t try to unpack everything in one day! Take some time to explore your new space, and decide where to put everything in a leisurely way. There is no set schedule for moving.

2. Assistance. If you have friends/family helping you make the move, assign them specific tasks so that nobody spends their time pestering you and asking “what do you need help with?”. You can even decide these tasks ahead of time, during your plane or car ride over.

3. Be neighborly. You’ll likely meet some neighbors during this process, and make sure to stop and greet them, even if you’re in the middle of something. First impressions do matter, even when they shouldn’t, and spending thirty seconds to greet someone in a parking lot may save you a lot of hardship in the long run. Ask your neighbors to recommend local attractions, places to eat, what laundromats to use, etc.

4. Check everything. During your first few days moved into you new apartment, look around and make note of anything wrong. Outlets that don’t work, scratches on the wall, peeling paint, etc. Report these ASAP to your landlord to be fixed. This will give you a good idea of how put together their maintenance unit is. Make sure to offer maintenance workers water and be polite to them when they’re fixing anything in your apartment.

After You’re Settled (Specifically for Living Alone)

1. PKW. Phone, keys, wallet. Every time you go anywhere. Check twice. The worst part of living on your own is having to rely on yourself to never forget to lock yourself out or leave your wallet at a sandwich shop in a mall. Make absolutely sure you have duplicates of your keys (I would get a couple made) and give one to a friend who lives nearby who you can count on. I also like to keep an extra set inside the apartment itself in a secure place, just in case. Your landlord can let you in during office hours, but giving a key to a trustworthy friend helps you 24/7.

2. Cleaning routine. You don’t have to sit down at a writing desk and draft this out, but spend a few minutes coming up with a basic cleaning regime for you to follow. It’s definitely easier to do a little each day, but if that doesn’t work for your schedule set aside at least an hour and a half during your time off to get your apartment spotless. I don’t know about you, but whenever I deep clean my apartment I feel like I’m living in a hotel for a day, and I absolutely love it.

3. Make a “moving” shopping list. This is everything you will need (minus food) for your first week at your new place. Do a big shop, and get all the essentials out of the way: first aid kit, cleaning supplies, tape, cat food, etc. Your first week moving into your new place will be stressful enough, you don’t want to be halfway through setting up your living room and realize that you forgot to buy trash bags.

4. Secure yourself. I’m not the most agile or fast person in the world, and I do live in a mid-sized city that has a good deal of crime. The apartment complex I live in is very safe, but I still like to double lock my front door at night. It might be smart to keep some pepper spray or a baseball bat somewhere in your apartment, just in case.

5. Stay social. Even the most anti-social person gets lonely. Make sure to hang out with your friends, not just your co-workers, your actual friends. Get out off your apartment every few days and go see a movie, get a cup of coffee, go people watching at the park, etc. It’s easy to get depressed if you’re living alone and doing the same things the same way every day- allow yourself to mix it up.

6. Meal prep. It can be stressful and seem useless to cook complicated or “fancy” meals when you’re living on your own. Plan your meals for the week and make a list before going shopping. Get yourself enough food to make a variety of dinners that will only take you fifteen minutes. If you do want to go crazy and make steak and mashed potatoes for yourself, make enough for two meals. Also, nobody is going to think poorly of you for stocking your fridge with a couple frozen dinners.

7. Customer service. Living alone means that you are going to be doing a lot of talking to customer service representatives. Get comfortable talking to people over the phone. Tell the rep what you need as quickly as you can, and try to be polite because customer service at a phone center is a garbage job that doesn’t pay well. On the flip side, don’t be afraid to ask for a manager if you’re upset or unhappy with your service. Take their survey at the end of your phone call, tell them how unhappy you are. It’s someone’s shitty job to look at all those surveys, no complaint goes unheard. Companies with great phone service: Verizon, Apple, Amazon. Companies with awful phone service: USPS (literally the worst), electric companies, health insurance companies.

8. Guest space. This is not required, but it’s a good idea to have some sort of space for a friend to stay the night. A friend of mine had a bad breakup, showed up at my apartment with ten minute’s notice, and then fell asleep on my couch after an hour of crying. It as 7:30! Whatever, she needed it. Keep an extra blanket and pillow in your closet, I like to keep travel sized shampoos and conditioners in my bathroom cabinet on the off chance a guest wants to use my shower. I got these at a hotel for free, but they’re available at CVS and other pharmacies.

9. Toilet paper. Don’t let yourself run out of toilet paper! I like to buy more when I notice I only have one roll left. The same deal goes for paper towels.

10. Enjoy. Living on your own is simoltaneously exciting and exhausting, but an all around must-have experience. Enjoy the freedom to forget to make the bed, to decorate your bathroom however you want, to have ice cream for dinner, to watch reruns of Friends and cry when Rachel decides to move to France. Make sure to give yourself lots of space to move at your own pace, but please remember to eat three meals a day and to go to the doctor’s for a checkup at least once a year!

#new apartment #first apartment #apartment hunting #finding an apartment #moving out #moving alone #living alone for the first time #moving out of my parents house #diy #fyi #college student #being an adult #how to adult #how to move out #security deposits #landlord

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concussed-to-pieces · 7 years

Text

ESC

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Baron Corbin/Female Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: I don't know what I'm doing with my life anymore, but I know I ain't apologizin' for nothin'. Tagging @toxiicpop, @oraclegazes and OF COURSE @hardcorewwetrash. Enjoy!

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains brief mentions of ticks and scabies, as well as human muzzling of a non-BDSM variety and allusions to previous abuse.]

Heyman’s Delights was, at its heart, a traveling circus. There were tents, a few acrobats and strongmen, fire-breathers. Paul had been trying for ages to get his hands on something a little more exciting, and it seemed like he’d finally managed it.

For one reason or another, there were people in the world deemed unfit for regular society. Usually displaying extreme aggression or overly predatory tendencies at an early age, they would put an incredible strain on loving parents and concerned siblings until tensions snapped. All roads tended to lead to Heyman’s Delights or other such traveling shows for these individuals.

The thing that boiled your blood was the fact that they were nowhere close to as inhuman as they were made out to be. Most of them could easily be suffering from hormonal imbalances or other undiagnosed issues. But due in part to the media hysteria (there had been an incident involving one such ‘feral’ child getting their friends to remove their school-mandatory muzzle so they could spook the teacher) and also in part to what you could only assume was parents that didn’t want or couldn’t afford another child, people were clamoring left and right to surrender their ‘feral’ children to various state-funded programs.

And if the government wouldn’t take them…might as well make a buck or two getting rid of your problem. If you could live with yourself afterwards.

“Bought them off of another one of those local shows. According to their owner Wolf was nineteen when he came into their possession, government releases them when they’re legal adults and no parent wants their kid back when they're like that. He’s unsure on Beast.” Paul Heyman sighed, a little heavier than you expected. “Vince threw Wolf in for free, said he didn’t need one without the other. But he hasn’t been trained as much as I was led to believe at first and he’s past thirty. This bleeding-heart altruism is punching holes in my pockets faster than I can line them.” He rubbed his temples. “We’ll just have to see what we can do, I suppose.” Recognizing the dismissal, you nodded and stood with the rest of your coworkers.

You had seen the photos of Beast, he appeared to come with a set of fine cauliflower ears. It wasn’t rare to stumble upon underground bare-knuckle rings where the dregs of society would bet money on the so-called ‘ferals’. Common belief was that they were subhuman, more resilient to pain, stronger, stupid. Hyper-aggressive outbursts tended to be calmed via distraction, dangled food or cattle prods the only two options you'd witnessed in person. Thousands of videos existed on the internet of 'ferals' silently devouring cheap microwave burritos or gas station hot dogs, fresh blood still dripping off their faces. Even more videos were shaky camera footage of the abuse, the prods or beatings.

No one seemed to make the connection that since most of them were sold off or surrendered young, they never got the chance to develop like normal children. Instead they were used as amusements, poked and prodded through the bars until a reaction was obtained. Then, John Q. Public would move on to the next thing, heart rate up and laughing with his friends about how he “wasn’t scared at all!”

You had signed on with Heyman a few years back, literally running away to join the circus. You were sick of being in one place, a stuffy room sandwiched between other stuffy rooms in a building that seemed all but abandoned by your landlord. Paul warned you that the work would be hard, the pay would be garbage and that you would more than likely have to sleep in a tent. You’d just nodded and signed your name, happy to accept all those shortcomings in exchange for the variety of a traveling life.

Heyman quickly seemed to realize that you were no quitter. Despite everything he threw at you, you carried on doggedly unloading and loading the trucks town after town. Your persistence had been a thorn in your side at every other job you’d had, but here it appeared to finally be useful. Paul would go to you for tasks that needed to be completed and you saw to it, simple as that.

His new acquisitions needed new housing so you, English and Gotch spent a good portion of the day putting together a sturdy cage for them. According to Heyman, they were currently kept in wooden crates with the barest slats in them for viewing. “I want my beasts to be able to stretch and move!” He instructed the three of you. Gotch just nodded, letting English gush about the genius of Paul Heyman while handing you a scrap of lumber to cover the bars. Aiden English was a kiss-ass through and through but he was also a classically-trained thespian, able to easily adopt any role pushed upon him. Not to mention the singing. Simon Gotch was very much the classic circus strongman. Like something straight from P.T. Barnum’s era, he had the mustache, the one-strap singlet, and the boisterous laugh of a man out of time.

You sat astride the bars of the roof, silently staring at the beams of lumber. “Hey, I was uh…I was thinking, maybe instead of wood, we should have a cloth roof? I mean, the two of them will be boxed up when we travel.” You suggested. “It would let in a little more light for them, and it’s not like we can’t just put a piece of plywood over it if it rains.”

“What, like a sheet?” Paul squinted at the roof for a minute. “I don’t see the harm in it. Saves me from buying another box of screws. The bars are still there.”

From your perch on the roof, you caught sight of a dingy van trundling along the road towards your campsite. There was a small trailer attached to the van. “And here comes the cavalry.” English muttered to Gotch, who nodded grimly. You studiously avoided looking up while Heyman moved to greet the van’s driver and gather up his new prizes. English tossed an old, tattered blue tablecloth to you and you wove it in between the bars of the cage, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles so it would lay flat.

You were in the middle of securing the sheet down to the sides of the cage when there was a loud, high-pitched roar from the trailer. An angry snarl followed, the two ‘ferals’ obviously not pleased with their surroundings. You swallowed hard as the full gravity of your predicament hit you. The whole caravan was being put to the test by the new acquisitions. If either of them got loose or something to that effect...

You squared your shoulders after a minute. You weren’t about to be scared off by a little noise. You had done your research, determined to see them as the people that they were and not the monsters they were always made into.

“Come over here and meet your new charges, boys! You too, sweetheart!” You rolled your eyes at Paul but obediently swung down from the cage and dusted yourself off, following the other two men to stand by Heyman. “This is Mr. Vince McMahon, he’s the gentleman parting with these fine specimens.” Paul continued, flattering the old man who appeared to have the leathery skin of an alligator.

You extended a hand to Mr. McMahon, cringing inwardly when he scooped your palm up and pressed it to his lips. “Enchanté.” His voice reminded you of an alligator as well, raspy. French was obviously not a familiar language to him. He released your hand after what felt like an eternity and you resisted the urge to wipe it off on your dirty overalls while he shook hands with Gotch and English. “It pains me to see these boys go.” He patted the side of the tiny trailer and then flinched back when the whole thing rocked. There was a thud like something had fallen over. “Whups, sounds like they’re roughhousing again. Guess I’d better uh…” Vince fumbled around under the front seat of the van before tugging out a cattle prod. “They were shock-trained, of course.”

“Of course.” Heyman echoed. You caught English and Gotch's worried looks at one another out of the corner of your eye. At least you weren’t the only one sure Paul was in over his head here.

“Sir, if we could…maybe not rile them up just yet?” You said quietly. “My associates and I would like to see the size of them, make sure our enclosure will be sufficient.” That was a bold-faced lie of course, and you felt more than saw English staring at you incredulously.

There was a loud whiffle of breath from the trailer. One of them was scenting the air. You wondered how terrifying this must be for them, trapped in a tight, dark space that moved and rattled uneasily. “Of course, they’re all yours. They’re secured and separated by a wall, naturally.” Vince unlocked the back of the trailer and swing the doors out. “Never know what they might do.” He chuckled, his laughter quickly dying off as the inside of the trailer was revealed.

It appeared that the separating wall had buckled or shifted during the transit. Or was pulled down. The hulking blond Beast barreled towards the open doors from the rear of the trailer. You didn’t even have time to think, body frozen on the spot.

A colorfully-marked arm abruptly hitched around Beast’s midsection, halting him in his tracks bare inches away from you and giving you an up-close look at the blond's strangely-phallic chest tattoo. “Shit, Beast!” Vince shouted, sounding more irritated than scared. “Knock it off!” The blond snapped and thrashed, struggling against the one you could only assume was Wolf. “You want to get zapped again, you piss-poor freak? Get back!” Vince brandished the cattle prod, making Beast snarl loudly in reply. “That’s right, you know what this does! So cool it!”

Wolf took Beast back a step, but then Beast lashed out with a vicious elbow and broke free. You dimly noticed the loose end of his chain trailing along behind him on the floor before Beast sent you crashing to the ground, the back of your head slamming into the dirt with a vicious impact. Your vision swam with reflex tears and you grimaced in pain, scared stiff as Beast pinned you with his body weight and screamed in Vince's direction over your head.

Something suddenly plowed into Beast’s side, throwing the blond off of you. Vince caught Beast in the ribs with the cattle prod, continuing to holler abuse. Wolf stared down at you and you stared back up, wishing you could stop shaking. His hair was matted and overgrown, hanging in his face. All you could make out was a pair of brown eyes studying you warily. You swallowed after a minute and his eyes tracked the motion, watching the way your throat moved before snapping back up to your face. “Hello?” You tried, flinching when a smile flashed through that thick hair.

“H-Hi.” He sounded almost shy, his voice deep and a little shaky. Definitely not what you’d been expecting. He tilted his head and then retreated cautiously back into the trailer, sitting at the edge and watching as Beast ate a few more volts.

You sat up slowly and English was instantly at your side, looking panicked. “Oh my goodness, how are you still conscious?!” He sputtered.

“Just my rotten luck, I guess.” You grunted, rubbing the back of your head. “Jesus.”

“There you are, see? Gentle as a lamb.” Vince panted, standing over the cowering Beast. “Now I’ve got to be going, so if we could move this process along…”

…

Paul had definitely bitten off more than he could chew. All Wolf seemed to want to do was sleep, and Beast delighted in tormenting the other man through the bars of their cage. The original plan had been to display them to the public in an enclosure they could interact with each other in, but Beast ceaselessly savaged Wolf until Paul put a sturdy divider in their cage.

Beast quickly became Heyman’s favorite, due to how he paced and scared off the bravest of souls by screaming and lunging to the bars at the most random of times. He was the picture of crazed animal, all froth and fury. Paul loved it.

Wolf would wake up out of his sleep at mealtimes, usually offering you a grunt, sometimes a “hi” if he was in a generous mood. You stayed to talk at he and Beast as they ate, Beast snarling into his food. You had lost most of your fear from Beast knocking you down, understanding that he had probably just gone for the first shot at freedom that he saw and it was unfortunate circumstance that you stood in his way. You had jokingly appointed yourself as head of feral nutrition, knowing that if you avoided Beast because he had scared you, you would never get past the incident mentally. It helped that there hadn't really been any competition for the position either.

“Hey, I’m sorry about what happened the day you came to be with us, Beast.” You said hesitantly one night. It wasn’t fair that they were kept in tiny cages, even if Beast seemed like the mauling type. You didn't think your own sanity or temper would hold up well under the duress of constant captivity, especially if you were crammed into a sardine can with someone you didn't like.

Wolf looked up at you curiously when you began talking, 'hmm'ing in his throat and then returning to his food.

“Just like everyone else.” Beast had never spoken before. You hadn’t been sure that he could. Tiny blue eyes narrowed at you over his plate. You knew that staring only made the person doing it look stupid, but you couldn’t help it. “You think you’re the first one to sit here an’ fuckin’ talk to me like this? Fuck you.” He muttered. “Fuck your boss too.”

“Brock-” Wolf sounded like he was about to protest but Beast stuck a hand through the bars between them, grabbed a fistful of matted hair and yanked.

“Shut the hell up, freak.”

“Hey, stop it! Why do you always push him around?” You asked indignantly, getting to your feet.

Beast mimicked your motion inside the enclosure, gripping the bars until his knuckles whitened. “He’s weak, that’s why.” He spat. “That’s the only reason I need, asshole.”

“I think I preferred when you were doing your strong-silent act.” You retorted.

“I could have ripped you apart and escaped. But this-” Beast’s face reddened angrily as he searched for the word. “-dumbshit just had to play hero. What, were you worried?” He asked Wolf mockingly.

“Don’t like getting prodded.” Wolf mumbled. “The lightning hurts like tch-zark!” He clicked his teeth and tongue in a weird imitation of a lightning strike. “Scares you too, dick.”

“Fuck you.”

“They don’t use the prods. I…I know you’re not happy, m’ not happy either but at least they’re not hurting us.” Wolf pointed out. “I’ll hurt people if they let me go, that’s what everyone always said. So I’m being good.”

Beast gritted his teeth. “Don’t give a shit what you do, idiot.”

Wolf rolled his eyes and then fixed his attention on you. “Dumb request.” He began slowly. “Need a bath. A-Ask Heyman, maybe we can work something out? A hose, tub?”

You nodded. “Absolutely, I’ll do what I can.”

Wolf smiled briefly. “Thank you. Don’t listen to him.” Beast clocked him upside the head and Wolf grunted. “You talk to us like people. It’s nice.” He continued after shaking off the blow.

“Why wouldn’t I talk to you like…you are people.” You pointed out.

“You know what I mean.” Wolf looked sad and Beast stormed off to the other end of his enclosure, clearly done with the conversation. “Most people act like we’re dumb or like we can’t understand them.”

“I don’t understand any of this garbage.” You tugged at your hair, a little frustrated. “We get told when we're young that if you’re a ‘feral’, it’s obvious because you’re bigger and dumber than the other kids. Like that’s an actual diagnosis, you’re just a crazy, hyper-aggressive child. You’ll try to bite or lash out, your parents will have to give you up because you’re a danger to society. But you guys...” You gestured at Beast. “He sounds almost totally normal. Obviously the whole wild thing is a sulky charade for him.”

“My parents surrendered me when I was six. I tore a piece off the doorframe and then I tried to bite my dad because he came at me with a knife.” Wolf said haltingly. “S’why I don’t talk so good. Nobody outside the complex I was in cared all that much about what we were doing. What mattered was we were away from them.” His voice grew more sure as he spoke. “Sometimes the older guys, y’know, kids that had actually been to school, would teach us. There was this huge kid we called Hacksaw because the story went that he’d ripped clean out of every single thing his parents had secured him in and they’d had no choice but to give him up. He was the teacher most of the time, he had a loud voice and he was bigger.” Wolf grinned. “Dumb as hell though.”

“Was Beast with you there?” You asked, getting an angry huff of ‘no’ out of the pacing blond.

Wolf shook his head. “Met Brock for the first time in McMahon’s pony show.” He glanced over at the other man. “He’s not that bad, except for most of the time. Vince enjoyed having him bust me open when I was misbehaving. I acted like I would bite, started laughing. Vince didn't like that.”

“It was business, dumbshit.” Brock grumbled. “If I went after you, McMahon would ease up.”

“There used to be more at Vince’s. A smaller guy named Neville. Big ears. Then there was Moxley. He'd get the rages. And Samson, played the guitar sometimes. They all escaped one night. Dunno’ what happened to them, they just up and vanished.” Wolf seemed to be sinking back into a funk, slumping down against the bars of his prison.

“Hey, easy. Look, I'll go talk with Paul and get your bath squared away, okay?” You patted his hand through the cage.

“M' name is Baron. What my parents called me, anyhow.” Wolf raised his eyes to yours. “I can't forget that. Please.”

“Okay. Baron.” You said softly.

…

When he was soaking wet Baron appeared decidedly less threatening. “It just grows so fast.” He had mumbled through the muzzle Paul insisted he needed to wear, wincing every time he found another tangle with the old comb. You had given him a trim to the best of your abilities once he was finished washing up and he looked miles better when you were done.

“You have a nose! And it's a nice one, too!” You had said in mock surprise, getting a snort out of Brock while you unbuckled the muzzle and pulled it back through the bars.

Baron had worked his jaw for a minute then graced you with a real smile. “Thanks.”

As you laid in your sleeping bag late that night, your thoughts kept returning to the young man in his cage. His parents had surrendered him at six. Your heart ached. What would it be like to go through most of your life being told over and over that you were the problem?

You were startled out of your musings by a rustling noise and you sat up in your tent when the flap slid open. It was just Adrian, one of the acrobats. He pressed a finger to his lips and you nodded, a little confused as he crowded into your tent. “Had t' talk with you.” His normally cool British accent sounded more clipped for some reason. “I've seen ya' spending time with the ferals.”

“I talk with Brock and Baron, yes.” You winced. “Mostly Baron, Brock isn't much one for conversation.”

“He never was.” Adrian muttered cryptically. “Listen, I don't have a lot of time. I'm not sure how they'd react to seeing me. But if at some point you could maybe...ah, I dunno', let it slip into a conversation that everyone still cares, I'd greatly appreciate it.” Adrian touched your shoulder, his eyes searching your own. “They don't deserve this life. You and I both know this. Can I trust you to deliver the message?”

“Adrian, what...”

“Hey, this is important. They're people, not fucking attractions. You have to promise me.” Adrian pleaded. “Get the message to Baron. Tell him that, tell him three days.”

“Everyone still cares, three days. Got it.” You repeated, raising an eyebrow. “What the heck does that even mean?”

“He'll know.” Adrian hugged you tightly. “I have to go. Don't want Gotch to talk.” He joked, his body language much more tense than you would care for.

Sleep didn’t come easily after Adrian left. You stared up at the ceiling of your tent, thinking. Everyone still cares, three days. It must be some kind of code, you reasoned. What does it mean, though? Why can’t Adrian tell them himself? You scooted down further in your sleeping bag.

When daylight finally began creeping through the fabric of your tent, you quietly eased the zipper open and slunk across the camp to Brock and Baron’s cage.

“Early for breakfast.” Brock commented idly when you were within earshot. You ignored him, moving to Baron and shaking him awake through the bars. Baron grunted and rolled over, yawning widely.

“Hey, listen to me.” You said, keeping your voice soft. Baron nodded sleepily. “Somebody wanted me to tell you this: Everyone still cares, three days.”

Brock’s fingers were around your throat before you realized he was moving, the large man dragging you in to knock your head against the bars of their enclosure. “Brock!” Baron cried. You gasped for breath as Baron tugged and pulled at Brock’s arm. But Brock didn’t even seem to notice. He looked purple with rage.

“Who told you that?” He hissed.

“Brock stop it, you’re gonna’ get us prodded! They can’t breathe!” Baron said frantically. “You have to let them go before something bad happens again!” You made a choking noise and it seemed to whip Baron into a higher frenzy, his fingers clawing at Brock’s arm hard enough to draw blood. “Wolf will bite!” He snapped his teeth loudly, like a warning shot.

Brock just scoffed at him. “Wolf, my ass!”

“Wolf bite!” Baron sank his teeth into Brock’s thigh and jerked his head to the side, making Brock scream angrily and swat at him.

“Hey!” Heyman’s sharp yell interrupted the scuffle. Brock quickly released you and you stumbled back from the cage, wheezing as air flooded your lungs. “What the hell is going on here?!” Baron hadn’t stopped chewing on Brock’s thigh, ignoring the blows that rained down on his head. Brock started slamming his leg against the bars, cracking the metal into the back of Baron’s busy jaw.

You reached back into the cage and touched Baron’s hair. “Baron.” You said shakily. “Hey, Baron. Baron shh, you can stop. It’s okay.”

Baron snarled into Brock’s skin but you kept petting his hair, kept whispering and he finally eased off enough for Brock to pull away. Baron’s chest heaved, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. He still seemed furious, his brows drawn into a tight scowl as he panted for breath and jittered restlessly under your touch.

Heyman approached cautiously once it appeared you had Baron under control. “You mind explaining to me what just happened?” He blustered.

“Heard…heard something. Woke me up.” You lied quickly. “They were fighting so I tried to…tried to stop them.”

“You’re crazy, getting between two ferals?!” Paul was practically shrieking at this point, jabbing a finger at Baron. “Look what he did to Beast! You're wearing a muzzle for the foreseeable future, Wolf!” Baron flung himself against the wall of the cage, yelling nonsense and trying his hardest to get a hold of Heyman. His long arms fell just short though and he finally collapsed in a heap, curling up in the corner. “Now that that's over with.” Paul huffed, looking somewhat shaken.

“Mr. Heyman, please-” You began to protest but Paul carried on over you.

“No, I'm firm on this one! He's a menace and I want him fully muzzled. Liquid diet.” Heyman insisted, smoothing out the remainder of his hair. “That's an order!”

Baron just huddled tighter, flinching away when Brock reached through the bars to harass him.

English and Gotch ended up muzzling him. You couldn't do it.

You loaded the truck by yourself as a trade-off, hefting rolled tents and wheeling boxes up the ramp with a dolly. When it came time to board up the walls of the enclosure for travel Baron didn't so much as look at you, wrapping himself in a hole-riddled blanket.

“Three days.” Brock muttered, bumping his forehead against the planks. “Three fucking days, Baron.”

“Dun' care.” Baron slurred through the muzzle. Gotch had strapped it too tightly around his jaw but he wouldn't let you fix it. “All I do'shurt. Destherve thith.”

“Oh please, you ain't never had a set of balls before. Then they show up and all of a sudden it's 'Wolf bite!'” Brock taunted, slapping his shorts over the bandaged area. “You went for paydirt, you cocksucker.”

“Were gonna' hur'them n' we'd ge' zapped.” Baron shuddered, gripping the blanket tighter and staring at his knees. “S'bad.”

“Brock, stop bothering him, please.” You said softly. Brock snorted but sat down in the opposite corner, tilting his head back and watching while you slid the roof boards into place.

“Three days.”

The trek to the new fairground was a long one. When the group stopped for dinner, you went to remove Baron's muzzle so he could eat. But he flinched away. “Mr. He’m’n said I gotta' wear'it, 'member?” He grunted.

“I don't want you to wear it.” You replied angrily. “You didn't do anything wrong, it's not like you were trying to strangle me!” You raised your voice so Brock would hear you, narrowing your eyes in his direction.

“Dun' wanna' get in trouble.” Drool trickled out of the bottom of the muzzle. “Tha' smells good though. S'it fries? I lo' fries. Oh...shit, ugh, stop.” He tried to wipe off his chin with the bottom of his ragged shirt. “Nooo, c'mon, s'gross.” He groaned.

“Yes it's fries. A burger, too. You want it?” You waved the wrapper in front of his face and watched his pupils dilate. “Gotta' take that off if you want to eat the probably-meat.” You sang.

Baron whined, tugging at the bottom of the muzzle. “Wanna’.”

You reached out and weaseled the buckle loose, quickly pulling the muzzle down over his chin. Baron glanced fearfully over at Brock, who rolled his eyes. “Are you even serious right now? Just eat the fucking burger, idiot.” He grunted, already well on his way through his second sandwich.

You tore chunks off the burger and handed them to Baron. He had a habit of bolting his food if you gave it to him all at once. Brock started watching you feed the other man, his brow furrowed like he was thinking hard. You ignored him and continued to slip one fry at a time through the bars, Baron humming quietly as he ate.

“Why?” Brock muttered finally. You looked up at him. “Why the fuck didn't you say something about me? I know the idiot is your favorite. You could have told your boss I went after you first. Don't tell me you didn't want to get me in trouble or some bullshit.”

“I knew how that would have ended.” You replied simply. “Mr. Heyman is incredibly emotional. He would have flown off the handle. Just like everyone else on this damn planet, he's fine as long as you two are ripping each other apart. But as soon as a 'regular' person gets involved?” You shook your head. “There was no good way to resolve that. So I lied.”

“But-”

“Look, out of all the people I might owe an explanation for something, you are the absolute last on that list.” You snapped, getting to your feet. “If anything, I think you owe me an explanation for losing your mind over some dumb thing that I was told to say. Haven't you ever heard of 'don't shoot the messenger'?”

“Sounds dumb.”

You threw your hands up in exasperation. “Fuck you too, buddy.” Brock just chuckled.

Baron, seeming a bit more at ease now that his stomach was full, waited patiently while you re-buckled his muzzle (correctly this time). He bumped the metal mesh into your forehead, his sleepy smile doing odd things to your stomach. “Thanks for keeping us from getting prodded. This isn't too bad. Sorry I was such a baby about it this morning.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes. “It's not right. I don't want you to wear it, but I don't want you to get in trouble either. I don't know what to do, Baron.” You whispered.

“It's okay.” Baron reached through the bars and awkwardly patted your shoulder. “Don't worry about me. Three days, y'know.”

“What does that even mean, what’s three days?”

“Nothing.” Brock said sharply, shooting Baron a fierce look.

…

You found out what it meant three nights later, when you were woken out of a deep slumber by someone tripping over one of the guy lines on your tent. The muffled swear that followed startled you to fully alert because it was a voice you didn't recognize. Who...? Curiosity won over self-preservation and once the footsteps faded away you quickly slipped out of your tent.

A flash of light from over by Brock and Baron's enclosure caught your attention. There was a quiet clatter, the sound of metal on metal. “Easy now, cool it Brock.” That was Adrian's voice. “Don't botch this, big guy.”

“Great job, getting hired as a fuckin' acrobat.” That voice belonged to the person who had tripped over your tent. “You always were the flexible one, Nev.”

“We'll have plenty of time for you to pat him on the back once I'm free.” Brock growled.

“I can't leave.” Baron mumbled. You had to strain your ears to hear him even as you snuck closer.

“Bar we don't...look man, I know everyone says you're a danger. We got a guy to help with that now. I promise, we're going to get you to some people who can make you safe.” You caught sight of a thinner man with a mop of light, curly hair, shimmying in place beside the cage door. Next to him was Adrian, who had a pack slung over his shoulder. Further off in the shadows you could barely make out a third figure.

Brock slid out through the cage door, taking a deep breath of air. “I'm not waiting around for you to sass Moxley and Mighty Mouse.” He snapped at Baron. You had to snort at the apt nickname for Adrian.

“Fine, go with Samson, Brock.” The man who you assumed was Moxley jerked his chin in the direction of the man on the edge of the parking lot. “We'll catch up.” Brock didn't wait around, bolting for the trees. “Great to see that confinement has only improved his shit attitude.” Moxley grumbled.

“Bar, you can't stay here. Paul will think you had something to do with it.” Adrian pointed out gently.

Baron hung his head. “You remember what I did, Nev. I deserve-”

Moxley undid his muzzle and pulled it off, chucking it to one side. “What any of us woulda' done, stop beatin' y'self up about it.” He scolded.

Baron tugged the cage door half-closed. “No, I'm staying. I can take it.”

“Baron?” You quietly called his name, taking a step forward.

Moxley whirled, his whole body alert. Adrian relaxed when he realized who you were, patting Moxley on the shoulder. “Easy. They're a friend.”

“Skulkin' son'uva, Jesus.” Moxley put a hand on his chest.

“Why won't you go with them?” You asked Baron, who refused to meet your eyes. “Hey...” You pushed the cage door open a little wider so you could enter the cage. “Baron?”

“You don't get it, I'm dangerous.” Baron mumbled. “I'll hurt people.”

“Yeah?” You circled around him, scoffing. “Like when you ripped me to pieces right out of your trailer? Oh yeah, that didn't happen. Like you did when I was cutting your hair? Oh that's right, you didn't. Earlier this week, when I hand-fed you and you graciously let me keep my fingers?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “You're pretty bad at hurting people.”

“You-! You're different, alright?” Baron exploded. “You talked to me, talked to Brock. Even if we didn't talk back. You weren't scared. I wasn't an animal to you.”

“If you go with your friends you don't have to be an animal ever again.” You reasoned with him, a plan coming together in your mind when he shook his head stubbornly. “Listen, I'm at least going to give you a hug, okay? Seeing as how I'm not allowed to be in here with you and Mr. Heyman probably won't be too keen on keeping you around when he wakes up to his Beast gone.” You hugged Baron tightly and he stood there, stock-still like he didn’t know what to do. “Run.” You whispered, and when you pulled away you shoved him backwards with all your strength. He stumbled out of the cage and you quickly shut the door behind him, hearing the lock click with a sound of finality.

“No!” Baron grabbed the bars and shook them in a futile effort. “What the hell are you doing?!” Baron asked incredulously, brushing Neville’s hand off when the smaller man tugged at his shoulder.

“It’s alright, Baron. Go on.” You mustered up a brave smile. “I’m sure I’ll see you again, okay?”

“I’m not leaving you like this.” Baron rested his forehead on the bars. “I don't want to.” His voice cracked.

“You have'ta. There isn’t another option.” Moxley whispered. It seemed the commotion hadn’t gone unnoticed, lights clicking on in the various tents and cars. “We gotta' go, Baron. I toldja', there’s people that can help you where we’re going. If we don’t leave now, the rest of the crew will be caught and I know you don’t want that shit on your conscience.”

You took Baron’s hands and brought them to your lips for a moment, then gently pushed him away. “Go on.” You urged. “I’ll buy you guys some time.”

“We won’t forget this kindness.” Adrian murmured, squeezing your hand while Baron grimaced. “C’mon Bar, we have to move.”

You sank into a crouch as flashlight beams began to crisscross the parking lot. Adrian melted into the shadows with Baron and Moxley in tow. You listened to their retreating footsteps, fighting back the urge to cry. You heard Heyman and Gotch hollering to each other and you squared your shoulders, exhaling in a bracing burst. Any extra seconds you could give the little group to escape would probably be beneficial.

Time to see if you could hold up under stress. If Paul wanted an angry feral, he'd sure as hell get one.

A flashlight shone in your eyes and you snapped your teeth, sticking an arm through the bars to swipe at whoever was holding it. “Whoa! Easy, what the fuck?” Simon backed up out of reach and then shone the light over your head, his face going pale as he took in the lack of residents in the cage. “Oh no. Oh no.” He breathed. You managed to grab his leg and he yelled in fear, flailing and falling over in his effort to escape your grasp. “Help! Help! English they’ve gone feral!”

You continued to snarl and paw at his leg. The longer you kept his attention, the more likely it was that someone else would help him instead of running off into the woods.

“Simon!” Aiden cried, ever the drama king as he valiantly pulled the other man out of reach of your deadly fingers. “What's wrong with you?! Mr. Heyman, come quick!”

…

You hadn't realized how much the muzzle would cut into your jaw if you moved wrong, but you were finding out pretty quickly. You hadn't realized how small the enclosure truly was. You hadn't realized how drastic the emotional and physical toll of being labeled an attraction was. Now you understood why Baron slept all the time, or why Brock would play up to the crowd.

If you didn't scare people away they would mob and heckle until you had to lash out, just to get five minutes of peace. No one wanted to see a 'feral' that looked like it was about to burst into tears. No one wanted to feel sympathy for something like what you were pretending to be.

It was worth it, you thought as you paced and did your best at imitating Brock's infuriated screaming. Their safety depended on you keeping up the act. Paul hadn't been too upset at losing the two 'ferals' or Adrian, quickly realizing that you were a hell of a lot easier to feed and transport than Brock and Baron. Not to mention he could market you as the first 'turned feral', like you'd been transformed into a crazed beast from too much time spent alone with the 'ferals'.

It took a little work, of course. You didn't have the added 'benefits' of rapid hair growth or other such issues to depend on so you ended up improvising with more noises and rumpled hair. You ripped the sheet covering the roof to pieces, scattering it around the cage to give the place a den-like appearance. Your collar was Baron's old one so it was enormous, jingling around your neck when you darted to the bars and swiped viciously at the people who got too close. You didn't talk, flat-out refused honestly, and Paul gave up questioning you after a few tries.

English usually brought your food, pushing it within reach with a stick and then fleeing quickly. Gotch was the one in charge of boarding up the enclosure when the caravan set out and he did it all while watching you nervously.

A weird feeling of loneliness slowly crept in as time marched on. No one attempted to talk to you after Heyman, your days were spent either in the darkness of travel or in the wild hysteria of being a freak. It took its toll on you as fall chilled the air and the leaves changed colors.

Sleep became your solace. In your dreams you were no longer caged; you slept in a soft, comfortable bed instead of a pile of tattered blankets. Baron would come to you, all big brown eyes and gentle noises in his throat as he held you close and kept you warm. Waking up was the worst part of your day. You always woke up tense now, wary and shivering while your breath frosted in the air.

It was hard not to listen to the things people said. The insults they hurled or terrible jokes they made more often than not added a little real fury to your act. It was bad enough that they would say those things to you. You could only imagine what Baron and Brock might have heard in their time as attractions.

Then there was the day where a young man dumped his soda on you. It was already cold out and now you were wet and sticky, on top of everything else. You grabbed him and slammed his head against the bars, screaming in his face like the beast you were supposed to be. You got grim satisfaction from seeing him cry, a grown man reduced to a sniveling mess. But all the satisfaction in the world couldn’t dry you off or make you less sticky.

There was no dinner for you that night because you had acted out. You curled up in your ragged bundle of thin blankets once Simon clumsily muzzled you and tried to ignore the rumbling of your stomach, feeling disgusting and lower than you’d ever been. Tears welled up in your eyes and you cried for the first time in ages, shivering and hiccupping pitifully.

“This ain’t exactly what I had in mind for a darin’ rescue.” Moxley’s rough voice by your head startled you and you barely kept from screaming in surprise. You bolted to the side of the cage and were greeted by the sight of Moxley and Baron.

Baron looked distraught, his fists clenched tight. “Who has the keys?” He asked, his tone harsh. You made a noise in your throat, reaching out desperately to touch him. Baron leaned closer, letting you cup his jaw. “What the hell did they do to you?” He whispered, his own fingers tracing the twisted-up straps of your muzzle.

“Get them out of that fuckin’ shit Corbin. We need the keys.” Moxley said curtly.

Baron slowly loosened the straps around your head, trying not to catch your hair in the process. The leather dragged against the scraped areas on the back of your jaw and you groaned in pain. Large hands ghosted over the abraded skin. “Shit, you’re raw. I’m sorry, would have been more careful.” Baron apologized.

“Heyman.” You rasped, your voice dry from disuse. “Heyman has keys.”

“Well fuck him.” Moxley shrugged, picking something off the bottom of his boot. “What do you think, Baron?”

“He’s mine.” Baron snarled, pushing away from the cage.

Moxley winked at you once Baron had stormed off. “He’s been an absolute wreck since we got word of a ‘turned feral’. Guy was chompin’ at the bit, we all figured it was you but he was losing his damn mind. Should have brought Nev for the door, he didn’t wanna’ wait. Now we gotta’ do this the old-fashioned way.”

You were totally overwhelmed by what was going on, sinking into a kneeling position.

Moxley made a noise of sympathy, petting your sticky hair. “It’s alright. You’re gonna’ be safe now.” He assured you. “We won’t leave you here. He won’t leave you here.” You whimpered and rested your forehead against the bars, barely able to comprehend it. He came back. Moxley seemed to understand your reaction, continuing to just pat your head. “I can’t believe that you’ve been in this cage the whole time. You’ve lived regular, you ain’t like us where you grew up in that shit. How did you even handle it?”

“If I couldn’t talk, they couldn’t ask me questions.” You mumbled. Keys jangled loudly and you turned around, confused at first when you saw Heyman at the cage door. You squinted and realized Baron had a firm grip on his arm, standing behind him in the shadows.

“Open it, fucker.” Baron snarled. Paul looked a little worse for the wear, his striped pajamas mussed and missing a few buttons. You got the feeling Baron hadn’t woken him up gently. “You have three seconds.”

“This is illegal, I’ll have you know.” Paul blustered. “Intimidating a-”

“No, what’s illegal is what I’ll fucking do to you if you don’t open the fucking cage.” Baron interrupted him, his grip tightening. “They’re not a feral, you’ve been keeping them locked up like a damn animal. I fail to see how the fucking law is going to be on your side here. Now open. The. Door.”

“Y-You’re not…” Paul trailed off when you shook your head.

“So if you let them go, we’ll just take them and be on our way. No muss, no fuss.” Moxley made his presence known, ambling to stand by Heyman. “Or…we can do this the hard way.” He had a wicked smile on his face. “Your choice.”

“N-No, I don’t want any trouble. I’ll j-just--” Paul dropped the keys twice in his haste to obey, finally unlocking the cage. “If I had known-”

“-You would have gotten everything you could out of them and then thrown them to the goddamn wolves. Get back into bed.” Baron shoved Heyman in the direction of his trailer. “You never saw us. Breathe a word and we’ll find you.” He threatened.

The night suddenly seemed brighter, the fall air crisp and clean in your lungs. “Can you walk? We have to move.” Moxley said hurriedly. You nodded jerkily, scrubbing your hands over your face to wake yourself up a bit. “Samson is in the next town over, we have shortcuts. Let’s go.”

Fingers twined through your own and you looked down at Baron’s hand, confused. “So we don’t lose you in the woods.” The large man explained, tugging you along behind him.

“Oh.” You hadn’t realized you were crying with relief until your breath hitched in your chest.

Baron grunted when he felt you shiver, quickly stripping off his hoodie and bundling you into it. “Better?” He asked worriedly, tying the hood strings so they held snugly beneath your chin. You nodded, letting him wipe your eyes with one of the sleeves. Baron’s smile still made that odd feeling flare up in your stomach. “Cool.”

“You talk more.” You pointed out as the three of you slipped through the foliage.

“Elias makes me sing with him so I can sound normal.” Baron grumbled while Moxley snickered. “Stupid Samson, forcing me to sing ‘Country Roads’.”

“I bet you sound good.”

“Better than him, anyhow.” Baron pointed to Moxley, who immediately stopped snickering. “Roadkill sings better than him.”

“Damn Corb, why you gotta’ smack-talk the roadkill?”

“Good thing we weren’t going for stealth, idiots.” Said a new voice through the trees.

“Elias! Shit, I must be sprinting, I thought we were still a ways off from the road.” Moxley apologized, pulling bushes to one side so Baron could haul you up an embankment to the road.

“How many times you done this?” The bearded man scolded, pulling open the sliding door of a van parked on the side of the road. “We’re lucky, man. Get in before something dumb happens.”

Baron easily lifted you into the vehicle, climbing in behind you. “Sit down.” He muttered, grunting when you wrapped your arms around him instead. “Oh. What?” He asked curiously, patting your back carefully. “Shh, there there. That’s the thing, right?”

“Yeah, you’re a natural buddy.” Elias laughed from the driver’s seat. “Christ.”

“I thought-”

“Don’t listen to him, man. You’re doing fine. Rub little circles. They’re…it’s--uh, anxiety. Yeah. They need contact right now.” Moxley bluffed, winking at you before strapping on his seat belt.

You flushed as Baron instantly pressed his whole body to your own, arms tightly enfolding you in an embrace. “I’ll help you.” He sounded so determined. “We’re gonna’ get you a shower. A real nice one, with hot water and soap. You’re all sticky, what happened?”

“Baron has volunteered to be your sponsor to help you readjust to normal life. We tried to explain that you weren’t like us but he was…very determined.” Elias said wryly. “So he’ll be sharing his bunk space with you.”

“Gonna’ take care of you like Mox and Nev took care of me.” Baron reassured you.

“Yeah, you’re uh…you’re in good hands.” Moxley seemed to be fighting off laughter. You had the feeling that you were in for a odd time of it, but you were so relieved to be free you couldn’t help giggling hysterically into Baron’s chest.

He came back.

…

Baron was disappointed when you didn’t let him shower with you, he had apparently become very fond of hot showers after years of nothing but sponge baths or dealing with communal bathing areas.

“Neville had to help me wash my hair, I don’t want you to miss anything.” He said worriedly, his shirt already pulled over his head.

You quickly assured him you would be fine. “I’ll let you look me over once I’m clean, deal?” He nodded seriously and proceeded to sit on the floor, inches from the raggedy shower curtain. You coughed. “Um, Baron, I kinda’ need to…”

“Oh!” He shut his eyes, covering them for good measure. “You’re safe. I won’t peek.”

“You’d better not.” You hurriedly peeled your dirty clothes off and got into the shower. As much as you’d like the company while you washed up, you weren’t sure how he viewed you. Were you just someone who had been kind to him? Or were you something more? Either way, it would hardly be fair for you to dump an emotional bombshell on him in the shower.

Your mind wandered, wondering what his hands would feel like on your skin as you scrubbed off the dried soda coating your arms and hair. There was no harm in thinking about it, was there?

Baron gave you your towel once you were done, waiting until you stepped out of the shower to get to his feet. He began carefully checking you over, clicking his tongue sympathetically at the raw-rubbed areas on your neck and behind your jaw. Baron then traced his fingers around your hairline. “Ticks.” He said by way of explanation when you gave him a confused look. “Because you’ve been sleeping outside.” Your whole body shuddered involuntarily. “Nev says to check the hairline, they hide behind the ears, armpits.” Baron paused for a minute. “Groin. Any um…any crevices, really.” He mumbled, taking a step back and clearing his throat. “So I’ll just…go. And get your…um…clothes, yeah, and you can give yourself a once-over. Moxley says I need to give you your privacy.”

You ripped the towel off once he’d left, panicking. You hadn’t noticed anything while you were showering, but you’d also been distracted. You ran your hands over your thighs, relieved when you felt no lurking intruders. You went up your stomach, checking your sides. You cupped your breasts and were about to move on, then…

In retrospect you realized that maybe screaming wasn’t the best course of action as it summoned Baron with alarming speed. “What?!” He took in the sight of you standing there naked, and carefully put down the bundle of clothes he’d been carrying. “You found one?” His voice was weirdly calm.

You just nodded, your lower lip starting to quiver.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He soothed. “Where is it?” You gestured at the side of your right breast, where the fiendish bloodsucker had taken up residence. Baron muttered something that sounded like of course, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling momentarily. “Alright, can I touch you? I’ve got one of those tick pullers on my keys.” He pulled your towel up and draped it over your shoulder, like he was attempting to preserve your modesty. “You don’t need to cry, s’okay. I’ll take it off and Regal can fix you up with meds if you get sick. Brock had a bunch of ticks on his butt, he got really sick but he’s fine now.”

You laughed through your tears at the mental image of Brock enduring someone pulling ticks off of his rear. You were incredibly embarrassed at your body’s response to Baron touching your chest, his motions all business as he carefully cupped your breast and held the skin tight so he could use the small tool. It still somehow stirred a reaction in your belly, even with you quietly freaking out about Lyme disease or a thousand other issues you could get from the little bastard embedded in your skin.

“Got it. Okay. You should wash that with soap and then get dressed. I’ll put this little fuck in a baggy, we’ll head to Regal.” Baron’s voice was still strangely calm, the low sound grounding you.

“Thank you. M’sorry.” You managed to hiccup. “So gross.”

Baron burst out laughing, surprising the hell out of you. “You had one tick-” He sputtered finally. “If you’ve got a strong stomach, you oughta’ ask Regal how many times they had to delouse me. He wanted to shave my head it was so bad.” Baron continued to snicker, making your indignant knee-jerk reaction peter out.

“Oh excuse me for not being graced by the scabies fairy.” You retorted while quickly pulling on your clothes.

“I’d cry if you’d had those.” Baron said bluntly. “Doc Regal gave us his monthly presentation for newbies on all the shit he’s seen and I about lost my lunch.”

…

“He’s quite smitten with you, you know.” William Regal said offhandedly as he counted medications and jotted something down on his notepad.

“Excuse me?” You asked, flustered.

The doctor (“How many times do I have to tell you Baron, I’m a pharmacist.”) looked up at you, one eyebrow raised. “Come now, you can’t be serious.” His tone was chiding. “You haven’t noticed?”

“W-Well-” You twiddled your fingers and Regal rolled his eyes.

“He was only here for a few days before he came to me about the odd dreams he had. You were a rather large part of them. He was having difficulty establishing a foothold in reality when it came to your place in his dreams.” Regal folded his hands, his face Bond-villain severe. “Baron grew very attached to you during his brief period with Heyman’s Delights. He says you were the only person who would even interact with he and Brock. He mentioned an incident when Brock lashed out at you and he bit Brock ‘with everything he had’ because you were in danger.”

“I just stroked his hair and tried to talk quiet to him. I didn’t want him to get hurt.” You recalled.

“It apparently made a lasting impression. His dreams, as with most so-called ‘ferals’ when they gain freedom, were of a sexual nature. But he mentioned the petting happened almost every time, like you were soothing him back to sleep. He found it calming but he had a difficult time waking from something like that.” William shrugged.

You wished you could vanish into the floor, your body hot and cold all at once. Baron chose that moment to make his appearance, knocking on the door before pushing it open. “Hey.” He greeted you warmly. “All set with the doc? I have your bunk made up.”

Regal exhaled a long-suffering sigh. “Baron-”

“Sorry, sorry! You all set with the pharmacist?” Baron rephrased his question. “I didn’t even know that was a word until last month, you’d think he would cut me some slack.” He stage-whispered to you as he ushered you out of the makeshift office. “So you’re gonna’ be in the bunk next to me in the orange trailer. Orange trailer is the one that’s mine. Neville said I could have it if I fixed the roof, and that wasn’t even a big deal.” Baron continued proudly, “Moxley says I’m great at fixing things, he comes to me with trailers all the time and I get them squared away.”

“You do upholstery too?” You teased.

“No, Mr. Styles is the sheriff around here. He upholds the law and a whole bunch of other things. I just fix stuff.” Baron didn’t seem to understand why you were laughing so hard, grinning uncertainly. “I um. I have a couple of documentaries we can watch, if you feel up to it. Not much in the way of entertainment around here but I guess that’s why we move so much.”

“Documentaries?”

“Yeah! Elias found me some old wolf ones. He says most of the information is inacc…in…uh, not right anymore, but I just like watching the wolves.”

The VCR made a terrifying noise when Baron fed it the tape later on, squealing and sputtering for a moment before the grainy footage began. You sat up and watched with Baron for a little while, his rapt expression one of the most adorable things you’d ever witnessed.

You reached out and began to stroke his hair. He didn’t even seem to notice at first, his attention entirely on the documentary. Little noises bubbled from his throat every time one of the wolves howled. You slipped behind him and tugged him back against you, Baron moving absently as he remained glued to the television. You dug your fingers into his scalp and that he noticed, if the whimper of “ah!” was any indicator. You continued your ministrations and his head lolled back on your shoulder “What are you doin’?” He asked thickly. “I love petting. Gonna' make me get hard.”

“Oh?” You dragged your fingers down through his hair, relishing the deep groan that came from his chest. “What would I have to do if I get you hard?”

Baron stared up at you, his brow furrowed. “Well, you wouldn't have to do anythin'.” He said finally. “If...I mean, if we're talking about what I'd want you to do, I'd...um, I'd like it if you'd...if you'd pet me. Below the belt.” His voice had dropped to an embarrassed mumble. “On my cock.”

You slid a hand down his torso and started playing with the zipper on his jeans.

Baron swallowed, covering your hand with his own after a second and rolling his cock up against your palm. “Do you feel me through that?” He asked, moaning softly when you nodded. “M' hard, you did that because you like me, right? Like how I like you. So you did what you know I like?” You nuzzled your face into his neck and pressed yourself tightly to his back, nodding shyly. Your fingers pulled down his zipper and Baron whined, muscles in his thighs flexing nervously. “Yes.” He gasped when you wrapped your hand around his cock. “Oh! Fuck--”

“Regal said you had dreams about me.” You whispered, loving the cute flush that quickly reddened his neck. “Good dreams.”

“Y-Yeah.” Baron admitted, cradling your face against his own while his cock twitched in your hand. “Just look at me. Want you, want to touch you all over. Make you happy.” He took a deep breath, seeming like he was gathering up his courage. “Sit on me and I can touch you if you want?” He said in a rush. “Please?” The begging note in his voice was what did it for you. You licked his ear playfully and he shivered, growling when you continued to mouth over the sensitive skin. “Ah, fuck, please-”

You slid out from behind him and he quickly grabbed you around the waist, easily settling you into his lap. His cock rubbed against the damp spot on your pajama pants and you blushed when Baron pressed two fingers to the area, teasing your clit.

“Like that?” He asked softly, “You feel good here, right?” His other hand slipped into your pajama bottoms to cup your ass, urging you to roll against his cock. “Here, right here. With me.” You dug your fingers into his hair again and pulled, making him snarl loudly. “Ah, can't do that, not fair. I'll fuck you sideways.” Baron warned, chuckling when you repeated the motion. “I'll do it. Better watch it.”

“Yeah yeah, big talk.” You stuck your tongue out at him and were surprised when he leaned in and captured it. Baron kissed with his teeth more than his lips, nipping at your tongue and licking hungrily into your mouth like he was devouring you. You grabbed at the neck of his shirt as he prodded his cock against you over and over, dry-humping you roughly. “B-Baron please--”

“Inside? Didn't know if you...” Baron paused as you stood up to drop your pajama bottoms and kick them over the side of his bunk. “I...Oh.”

“Please?” Now it was your turn to beg, sinking back into his lap and rubbing your soaking wet pussy over his cock.

Baron's eyes narrowing was the only warning you got before he lifted you bodily and pressed your back to the wall. “Yes.” His teeth snapped loudly at the end of the word, hard cock prodding up against you. “You're wet for me, you're wet for me and you're going to have me, you already do but now you can have all of me.” He said firmly, his forehead touching yours as he slowly entered you. “Told you I'd fuck you sideways.”

“I dunno' if this--counts as--sideways.” You managed to gasp.

Baron spread your legs a little wider, his pace erratic as he fucked you. He kept making sounds that went straight to your groin, helpless whimpers and growls pouring out of him when you pulled his hair and scratched down his back. “More.” It was a demand, it was a plea, gritted between his teeth as he thrust furiously into you. “Touch me, touch me, touch me God dammit-” He swore, words finally seeming to fail him as you swept his hair to the side and started nipping his shoulder.

The noises he carried on with wreaked havoc on your arousal, low-frequency rumbling in his chest seeming to roll through your whole body. You tensed up and Baron choked out a breath, obviously relishing the new sensation as he picked up his pace. “Coming-” You sobbed, gripping his shoulders tightly.

Baron's words came flooding back. “Yes do it do it want it-” He rambled, breaking his rhythm to sheathe his cock fully then move you back to his bunk. “No more sideways fucking, want you to come, want you to come.” He urged, smoothing the hair back from your face and pinning your hips down with his own. “Come for me come for me come for me-” You arched up beneath him as you came apart and Baron's forehead pressed to the hollow of your throat, your skin muffling his cry of “good!” when he came a second later. “Good.” He sighed again, his breath washing over your throat. “Good.”

You nodded tiredly in agreement, starting to comb through his hair with your fingers.

“Ugh, so good.” Baron groaned, nuzzling the thrumming pulse point beneath your ear. “Yes, yes.”

“Shh, I know.” You kissed his forehead, loving the way he stretched and preened over you before settling onto his side.

“Come here.” Baron demanded, pulling you back into his arms. You laid your cheek on the tattooed heart, feeling the lightning trip of his heartbeat slowly start to even back out. After a second Baron started stroking over your hair hesitantly, like he wasn't sure if you liked it or not. “You make me feel so good.” He said softly. “Not just this stuff. Always.”

“Yeah?” You tilted your head up to look at him and he nodded solemnly. “I'm glad, then.”

“I hope you'll stay. Y'know, with us. Me.” He mumbled when you were almost asleep, his thumb sliding over the raw patch behind your jaw. “Me an' Nev an' Mox an' 'Lias, we got a lot of work t' do...”

Part Two

#Baron Corbin #baron corbin smut #baron corbin/female reader #feral!Baron #thirst party saturday #this somehow got really long #wwe #wrestlers without the wrestling #Wrestle!AU: Feral Peril #behold all my weaknesses in one post #enjoy!#Baron's Bitches #(in case any of you were interested)

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izzy-b-hands · 7 years

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Prompt: Shiver

Another sort of Halloween prompt? A scary/sad one, at least?

Idk, I needed to write some Magnus, so this happened!

Warnings for usual Dethklok-related things: mentions of violence and injuries, drugs and other mischief. This honestly turned mostly into a weird exploration of Magnus and his head immediately after being thrown out of the band (like literally the night of.)

He wasn’t afraid of being on the streets. Not anymore.

Or at least that’s what he told himself, with his over-stuffed duffel bag slung over one shoulder, and his free hand pressing one of his few clean shirts to the bleeding over his swollen eye.

He’d see a doctor in the morning, maybe. For now, he needed to find somewhere to bed down and rest--or bleed out, depending on just how bad Nathan’s fists had fucked him up. He couldn’t tell for sure how bad that was either, just knew that it fucking hurt.

Hurt that they’d turned on him like that, hurt directed towards himself for his own violence--what the fuck had he been thinking?

“You weren’t,” he told himself. “You always do this shit. And what if they don’t take you back? What then?”

It hurt his now-bad eye to cry, but he couldn’t stop it. The anger wasn’t fading, exactly, but it was set back to simmering while the physical pain started to overwhelm. The few drugs he still did were back at the apartment--it was no coincidence that the guys hadn’t tossed those into his duffel bag. Just another stab at him and his bullshit.

And why the fuck was it so cold out tonight? It never seemed this cold when they were walking (sometimes driving, but usually walking since they could rarely afford gas for whatever piece of shit they’d managed to buy and keep running for the month) back from a gig. Maybe it’d been the booze, or the fact that there were people beside him--but fuck, how stupidly, grossly nostalgic was that?

Still, he stopped briefly to pull a sweatshirt from his bag. If he was even going to attempt to go back to them in the morning, then he couldn’t freeze out on the street.

He kept shivering though, as he wandered from one strangely empty street to another. He’d walked for another two hours before finally running into someone.

She was an older streetwalker, maybe old enough to be his mother. She was as concerned as a mother, for sure.

“Oh honey, you’re headed home right? You’d better be--I know I am,” she fussed, stopping him.

“Uh, no. I got kicked out,” Magnus said. She didn’t need the whole story.

She frowned. “You should check out the motels then. Get a room somewhere, soon. There’s a serial killer out here, so the police say. That’s why I’m headed in early. I made my money tonight--don’t need any extra risk to die for it.”

He thought of the little bit of cash he had. “Maybe. Was gonna try and find an empty dumpster, honestly.”

“You are just like my son. Young boys, when will you learn?” she tsked. “I’d take you home, but my husband--”

Magnus raised a hand, trying to hide that it was shaking. “I get it. Don’t worry about me, lady.”

“I still will,” she sighed. “Look, try and find somewhere safe, okay? Do it for me, if you can’t for yourself.”

He nodded, and watched her shuffle away on her Plasticine crystal clear heels. He didn’t know her from anyone, but he didn’t like that she’d worry about him. She probably had her own share of issues; she didn’t need his, even just for the night.

He kept on, a little more apprehensive at the idea that someone might be watching, that he might have to brawl with someone properly dangerous who would have it out for him. But who knew, maybe there wasn’t a serial killer. Maybe the lady had been misinformed.

Still, he shivered. Tried not to think of how it would be if he hadn’t lost his shit, and was back at home (if he could even call it that anymore.) If he crawled in wherever Pickles or Skwisgaar was, he would have had a willing person to cuddle with. The three of them were all scary skinny now, and body heat was a hot (pun unintended) commodity. Murderface would have shared one of their few blankets, or Nathan would have started a fire in the old campfire set-up they’d found on the street by someone’s garage a while back. In any case, he wouldn’t have been scared, or cold.

He couldn’t shake the anger though. How much longer were they willing to do this? To shiver and freeze for their art--they were younger than he was, they had more time to give.

What did he have left?

He shivered again, more violently, and finally settled on an empty alleyway in which to think and stew on his anger.

Didn’t they get it? He didn’t have what they had anymore, and they were so close to better, bigger--they had a contract, damn it! They could taste fame proper, or at least he could. A roof over their heads that had heat, food they didn’t have to fight over because there was so little of it, an actual practice space where they could spend hours making the music really come alive--and maybe some extra groupies and money and drugs.

Was that asking for so fucking much?

Tears stung his eyes again (especially the bad one, which it was getting harder to see out of.) But he had a bad feeling now, one that he knew must be right--they wouldn’t take him back. And if he went back and begged for them to do so now--

The thought of it made him shiver, with fear and anger and shame.

He tried to sleep, and couldn’t. He could be scared of his future, of being stuck out on the streets, of never making all that he wanted and worked so hard for happen.

But he could do it later.

Now was the ER and a grim-faced doctor who called in an eye specialist all to tell him he’d lose at least some vision in the bad eye, and wanted him to make a whole slew of follow-up appointments to check on it.

He didn’t make any, but let them stitch him up. That was the cheapest option, the only one he could afford with a bit of his cash.

The rest he spent on cans of dark red spray-paint, and a lock-picking kit the kid running the gas station begged him to keep quiet about.

He said he would, and he did. The kid had a long time to go yet, to make bigger mistakes.

The guys slept through his lock-picking, and even his destruction of the living room. Then again, they were warm and probably drunk and certainly comfortable. No wonder the assholes could sleep so soundly.

The spray-paint flecked his hands as much as the wall, but it was worth it, and the harsh scent of the paint in his head was an added bonus. Let them wake up to shivers of their own--at his threat, at the idea that no matter what they did or where they went, he’d find a way to watch them and eventually fuck them up.

Would he ever pull it off? Maybe, maybe not. He still had nowhere to go, and next to no money to his name. He might get killed by that serial killer if he spent another night on the street.

But they would have the threat in their heads, to make their blood run cold whenever they thought about it, and that would be enough for now.

#text post #Alyssa writes #dethklok fanfiction #why do I like writing this boy so much I don't know #but this came so easily and quickly and I've had such writer's block lately #so this was nice

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el399 · 7 years

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In the spring our thoughts inevitably turn to Las Vegas. Not because we like Vegas, particularly, but because Tom’s annual conference visit means an opportunity to take a trip to the South West, and this year was no exception.

Previous trips to this part of the country have seen us skiing in southern Utah, driving around the Four Corners, and visiting the Grand Canyon – all of which I thoroughly recommend – but this was a red letter year in that it allowed me to tick off two major bucket-list items: visiting Death Valley and setting foot in California for the first time.

I’m not entirely sure why I was so keen to visit Death Valley, but ever since I found out that it’s really close to Vegas (at least by American standards) I’ve been desperate to go. This fits nicely with Tom’s national park obsession, and Joshua Tree NP had been mentioned to us several times as a place worth visiting, so we were both very pleased to discover that we could combine them into a single trip.

March 1st saw us setting out from Vegas to drive south through the Mojave National Preserve en route for Joshua Tree. Driving in this part of the country is such a pleasure, with empty roads, broad skies, and scenic vistas. As is often the case, we were struck by just how much space there is out here – particularly later in the trip, between Joshua Tree and Ridgecrest, there were literally hundreds of miles of more-or-less empty land.

We arrived at Joshua Tree in the afternoon, with enough time to drive around the northern part of the park and have a short walk around the aptly-named Hidden Valley. I was completely fascinated by the eponymous plants (not actually a tree, but a succulent), and kept stopping the car to take pictures of them. (As you can imagine this went down really well with my travelling companion, but until he learns to drive he doesn’t have much influence over these things!)

For dinner that night our favourite food-finding app directed us nine miles or so further north, to a pizza place at the corner of a gas station. From the outside this looked like a complete dive, and there was no mention of gluten free options on the menu board, but the guy behind the counter was brilliantly helpful and we were soon tucking into a gigantic portion of wings and some tasty pizzas. (To add an even more bizarre twist to the evening, it turned out that his mother was from Bedford, UK, so we had a nice chat with him while waiting for our food.)

The next morning was spent driving around the park, looking at trees and cacti, and then taking a hike up a hill to look at an old abandoned gold mine. Lunch was a picnic of leftover pizza (a very useful strategy, we’ve discovered), before hitting the road for the long drive up towards Death Valley. We’d opted to break the journey for the night in Ridgecrest, for no other reason than it was a three hour drive from Joshua Tree and just one from Death Valley, and accommodation was cheaper there.

Another mildly bizarre dinner ensued at a steak restaurant in the town (to get to which we took a radical departure from our usual habits and called a taxi as I really couldn’t be bothered to drive and it was too long a walk from our hotel), complete with a lurid cocktail and moderate consternation as I ordered a baked sweet potato without the butter and brown sugar topping. Tom had something slathered in BBQ sauce, and probably some mac and cheese on the side.

And then, finally, Death Valley day arrived! Driving out of Ridgecrest early on a Saturday we were more or less the only car on the road, a situation which didn’t change much as we wound our way over rocky hills and across flat and desolate valleys, although an entire town dedicated to a mineral processing plant was an interesting sight along the way. Cresting the top of the mountain above Panamint Springs and looking down into Death Valley wasn’t quite the climactic moment I’d hoped for – it looked pretty much like the valley we’d just left, only bigger.

We paused at Stovepipe wells – the site of a gas station, general store and our hotel for the night – for a coffee, before driving on into the valley proper. First stop was the visitor centre, for the obligatory introductory film, then it was down into the heart of the valley to walk on the salt flats at Badwater Basin. Probably the most popular site in DV, Badwater is the lowest point in the Western hemisphere, at 282 feet below sea level. This sounds pretty impressive, until you read that the Dead Sea is 1,412 feet below sea level, but looking up the neighbouring mountain to see the sign marking sea level high above you is still quite exciting.

We walked out across the salt flats, it seemed like the thing to do, and almost at once felt unbearably hot, blinded by the light, and desperately dehydrated. All of these sensations (apart from perhaps the brightness) were almost entirely psychosomatic – it was a warm afternoon, true, with temperatures probably in the high 70s Fahrenheit, but there was a pleasant breeze blowing and we had plenty of water – a veritable picnic compared with some summer afternoons on the streets of Manhattan. However, with nothing but valley and mountains in all directions and no shade for miles, you expected to stumble across the dessicated remains of travellers who didn’t make it at every turn. (I was extremely disappointed not to see any skeletons, or even so much as a single sun-bleached bone, the whole time we were there.)

As we walked further away from the carpark the crowds thinned out and the ground beneath our feet became damper, eventually becoming a shallow expanse of water. A few intrepid folks were treating this like a day at the beach and paddling, with their belongings piled up on the shore. I have no idea just how salty the water was, we kept our boots on and trudged back. It is the combination of flat, wide floor and high, fairly vertical mountains which give Death Valley its formidable reputation – hot air is unable to rise far enough to escape, so it just cools a little before dropping back down in a superheating cycle. Night time temperatures in March are still fairly chilly, but apparently in the summer the minimum never drops below the low 90s F. Having been mourning the fact that we were not there at the hottest time of year, Tom quickly revised his opinion and decided that it was perfectly warm enough right then!

The afternoon continued with side trips to the Devil’s golf course, an abandoned borax mine, and a saltwater creek to see a unique species of fish, all involving a short drive along unpaved roads. Part of DV’s wilderness designation apparently means keeping many of the park’s roads unpaved, and I regretted our decision to rent a saloon car rather than a 4×4. Our final stop was a small patch of sand dunes, where, rather to our surprise, visitors were encouraged to wander freely. We joined a number of visitors scrambling up and down the sandy slopes, and headed for the highest point. The early evening was cool, and the sun was setting behind the mountains – it was remarkably peaceful and completely enchanting.

Having enjoyed the sand for long enough, it was back to Stovepipe wells and dinner at the hotel restaurant (another steak, this time with salad, and I think Tom had something with a monstrous amount of cheese). Our final morning began with a hike up Mosaic Canyon, where the marble rocks have been scoured over the ages by running water into fascinating twists and grooves, and we enjoyed scrambling up some of the narrower sections of the route.

Finally, we made the long drive up to Dante’s viewpoint. I wasn’t completely sure it was worth doing, especially on the final, extremely steep and narrow section of road, but the view from the top absolutely justified it.

On the approach to Vegas, we toyed with the idea of visiting Red Rock Canyon, and even drove along the approach road, but ultimately decided to carry on past the entrance and go straight into town. However, turning off the main road when we did gave us our top wildlife sighting of the trip – an actual roadrunner, running across the road in front of us. Sadly we didn’t have time to get a photo, so I’ve borrowed this picture from the internet to show you what they look like:

Back in Vegas, we had enough time before our flight to visit the Mob Museum. This came highly recommended by a friend, and we thought it was excellent. Beginning with the roots of organized crime in America, the museum traces the rise of the mob through prohibition until many key players were brought down by the Kefauver hearings in the 1950s. Vegas was obviously deeply implicated in organized crime, in all sorts of ways (including at least one hit which was ordered in LA so as not to disrupt business in Vegas), and it was fascinating to learn about all this in the building where some of the hearings took place.

There are far too many photos from our trip over in my Flickr album – if you’d like to see lots of pictures of sand, sky, rocks, cacti and Joshua trees do please take a look (only two pages, so you can scroll through pretty quickly!). I intend to do some more editing of the selection, but given that it’s taken me a month to get around to posting this I wouldn’t hold your breath…

California Desert Road Trip In the spring our thoughts inevitably turn to Las Vegas. Not because we like Vegas, particularly, but because Tom's annual conference visit means an opportunity to take a trip to the South West, and this year was no exception.

#CA desert roadtrip #California #Death Valley #Joshua Tree #Las Vegas #Mob Museum #Route 66

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flipfundingstuff · 4 years

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The Resurgence of the Great American Road Trip

“All he needed was a wheel in his hand and four on the road,” Jack Kerouac writes in the American classic “On the Road.” The Great American Road Trip remains a quintessential travel experience since the 1950s, whether it’s crisscrossing the country or just getting your kicks on Route 66.

The first successful cross-country road trip occurred in 1903 when a man named Horatio Jackson took a $50 bet that he couldn’t make it from New York to San Francisco in 90 days. RVs, or recreational vehicles, came not long after, with the first invented in 1910.

A lot has changed since then, with RVs exploding in popularity after the Winnebago began mass-producing them at an accessible price point in 1967. “Road trips have a universal quality,” Stanford historian Allyson Hobbs told PBS. “The real joy of the road trip lies in its spontaneity and unpredictability.”

The RV has become the hot vehicle for the summer, and it’s changing the landscape of domestic travel as we know it.

RV Sales Skyrocket for the Summe

With the pandemic, travelers have few safe options. RVing, with accommodations, food, and transportation in one contained area, seems to be the safest. Nearly 1 in 3 Americans planned to take a road trip at some point this summer, citing low gas prices and safety concerns. According to Arrivalist, which runs a daily travel index, road trips peaked July 1 for the 4th of July weekend.

That’s probably why 46 million Americans are expected to take an RV trip this year. “I think we’re going to see a lot more demand,” RVshare CEO Jon Gray told Business Insider. “I think you’re now getting a new group of people buying them, which has people who are substituting it for more luxurious vacations that they typically took.”

Airstream, one of the most popular RV brands, originally projected losses for the year. Much to their surprise, sales increased 11% month over month for May, with no signs of slowing down. “Since we came back in May, sales have literally been through the roof, well beyond what we think was just pent up demand from the month of April,” Airstream CEO Bob Wheeler told Business Insider. “Orders continue to come in and retails continue to happen at a very brisk pace, so there’s something going on here that it’s beyond just a bit of pent up demand.”

More Americans choose to rent RVs than ever before through services like RVshare, which is similar to Airbnb in that it connects empty or unused RVs to travelers looking to use them. Bookings skyrocketed in May with a 650% increase year over year on the site.

What Pandemic Road Tripping Looks Like

The appeal of the RV mainly comes from the ability to seal off yourself and your family from other travelers, which is impossible on flights, cruises, or in hotels. “It’s hard to imagine another travel option that would be safer,” Maria Sundaram, MSPH and PhD, told SELF. “You can travel by yourself, so you don’t have anyone else in the car with you, and you also can make your own decisions about when and where you might need to stop.”

And while there’s always this romantic idea of an American road trip stretching from coast to coast, the majority of American road trips this summer fall closer to the “staycation” category. 48% of travelers in a July 2020 Ipsos survey said they would be renting a home or camping within driving distance, focusing on remaining secluded and avoiding crowds. 72% of respondents said they’d be taking their cars no matter what.

With so much demand, every travel guide has posted a take on road tripping in style, with advice ranging from stocking up on food to prevent stopping to downloading apps for major chains to use contactless pay options in the drive-through and noting coronavirus travel restrictions state-by-state.

The one thing every guide recommends? Researching every aspect of the trip more thoroughly than you would otherwise. “Even if you’ve done this trip multiple times, you need to take the research a step further,” AAA spokesperson Jeanette Casselano says in their road trip guide. “You may run into some temporary closures.”

Should Americans Hit the Open Road?

The real question is not whether Americans can RV, but if they should.

When considering a destination, the CDC recommends asking yourself:

Is COVID-19 spreading at your destination?

Do you, or someone you live with, have a higher risk of infection?

Will you be able to maintain social distancing at your destination?

What are the state and local travel requirements?

“There is still the risk,” University of Maryland Professor Luisa Franzini told CNN Travel. “[It’s] during the trip when they stop at the gas station to get gas or go to the restaurant. That’s certainly risky. And then once they arrive at their destination, there are risks, too.”

If you choose to take a road trip, you have to do so responsibly, evaluating each potential contact point not just as a risk to yourself but also to others you may spread the disease to without knowing. “If you were to ask me where I would feel comfortable road tripping at this point, it would really only be to larger, open-air destinations,” added Sundaram. “That includes campgrounds where there aren’t that many people. But I wouldn’t say the risk is reduced if you go to a rural area. You still want to be really careful about taking as many precautions as you can.”

Staying home is still a better idea than traveling, all things considered. “COVID-19 cases and deaths have been reported in all 50 states, and the situation is constantly changing,” says the CDC website. “Because travel increases your chances of getting infected and spreading COVID-19, staying home is the best way to protect yourself and others from getting sick.”

The post The Resurgence of the Great American Road Trip appeared first on Lendio.

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epchapman89 · 7 years

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The Very Best Of The Roaster’s Village At South By Southwest

Did it really happen? Was it all just a fever dream? Were those three days that felt like two weeks but also like two seconds really occur outside of my own consciousness? Indeed they did. That or Sprudge has some pretty sophisticated mental imaging that recorded my frenzied state.

From March 10th through 12th, 12 coffee brands (and Briggo) descended upon Austin, Texas, to be part of the first-ever Roaster’s Village at South By Southwest as part of SouthBites, the food and beverage portion kicking off the weeklong arts, music, tech, and entertainment festival. We worked behind the scenes with SXSW over the past few months to curate a cadre of local, national and international coffee brands for the inaugural endeavor and it was truly a magical experience. We activated, we partied, we podcasted repeatedly, and we even splashed a few splashes. It was a hell of a time.

We have a lot of cool content from the Roaster’s Village that we’ll be releasing over the next few weeks—an interview or two, podcasts aplenty—but for now, let’s take a look back at the heart of what made it a smashing success: the coffee brands that took part in South By Southwest’s first-ever Roaster’s Village.

For all of our coverage of South By Southwest, visit our Roaster’s Village portal on Sprudgelive.com.

Sprudge Media Network’s coverage of the Roaster’s Village at SXSW 2018 is sponsored by Falcon Coffees.

Tweed Coffee

Any inaugural Texas coffee event wouldn’t be complete without Tweed Coffee Roasters, the Austin via Dallas-based roasting arm of Houndstooth Coffee. In true Tweed fashion, their booth was simple and well-executed, including two Clever brewed hot coffee options—the washed Red Bourbon Kibuye from Gitega, Burundi and the washed Bourbon, Caturra, and Typica Araguaney from the Aprocassi Coop in Peru—and a flash chilled iced coffee—the Los Romerillos in Ecuador. That flash chilled option was a hot commodity in the South By heat.

Tweed is going to be all over Austin this weekend, being part of some delicious coffee cocktails at all three Houndstooth locations. If you’re willing to wait in the 30-minute line, they’ll make it well worth your wait.

Slingshot Coffee Roasters + Oatly

For the hottest day expected during the three-day SouthBites outdoor pavilion, cold coffee drinks are a must-have. And Slingshot Coffee is probably one of the hottest cold coffee brands out there right now. You’ll be seeing them in grocers on the West Coast very soon, and their East Coast presence is about to receive a major boost now that they will be debuting at Publix. The North Carolina-based RTD maker came armed to the teeth with tasty cold coffee beverages, ready to battle the heat wave.

Along with their classic cascara tea on top (with very cool and maybe a little dangerous slingshot tap handles) and cascara tonic made with Jack Rudy tonic, Slingshot debuted a few new offerings, including a blueberry jasmine cascara drink, made with 100% blueberry juice and dried jasmine flower. They also brought their new Cascarnold, a cascara-based take on the Arnold Palmer and the Slingshotte, a cold brew and Oatly concoction (WOW! No cow!). With all the tasty SouthBy-exclusive cold brew concoctions being whipped up around the Roaster’s Village, I found myself trying to pocket a few bottles of Slingshot for some later time drinking, that may or may not include a little whiskey.

Stumptown Coffee Roasters

While most booths were serving drinks and scooting attendees along, Portland’s Stumptown Coffee invited attendees to come in and take a load off. Their very chill hang out space was just the sort of respite needed when the sun came bearing down. Offering all manner of cold brew—canned, tapped, nitro’d, mocha-fied, you name it—the small little seating section was a great way to enjoy a tasty beverage while perusing city guides from Wildsam, an Austin-based maker of pocket-sized travel hot spots for some of America’s great cities, including Austin (obvz), New Orleans, Los Angeles, and Brooklyn.

And if a nice espresso was what you are looking for, Stumptown also brought a La Marzocco Linea Mini for traditional cafe-type drinks. Of all the booths, this was the closest to an actual coffee shop experience and we are here for it.

Irving Farm Coffee Roasters

Not to be outdone, NYC’s Irving Farm brought a very non-mobile espresso setup, including a two-group La Marzocco GB5 and a Mazzer Major espresso grinder. They brought with them the Los Alisos from producer Sergio Palermo in the Chirinos region, a coffee from Peru that made for a really balanced espresso, sweet but with a really nice body.

But what really stole the show at the Irving Farm booth was their Cold Brew Cola. A take on the Manhattan Special, Irving Farm topped off their tasty cold brew with a cascara syrup foam, peppermint, lavender, and rosemary, finished off with a garnish of Amarena cherries, one of which was dipped in real gold. REAL GOLD! The way it glimmered in the sun made me think twice about eating it. But I still ate it and now the net worth of my body is a little higher than it was before. The Cold Brew Cola was probably the most complex coffee cocktail I had today at the Roaster’s Village; the layers of herby, floral, sweet, effervescent flavors kept me gulping it down, even though it was legitimately my 12th coffee in about a two-hour stretch.

Intelligentsia Coffee

Chicago’s Intelligentsia really showed out for the Roaster’s Village. On top of a full-service espresso bar—serving Honey Badger espresso on a two-group La Marzocco Linea and Mahlkönig K30 grinder—the Intelli crew came with a full roster of Kilogram Teas, both iced and hot, chai lattes, and the Limelight, a cocktail consisting of cold coffee on tap, lime juice, and simple syrup all shaken together and topped with a splash of tonic.

It was the perfectly zippy drink I needed to perk me up after maybe getting a little too activated at all the SXSW parties the night previous.

Swiss Water

To truly love coffee, you must love it in all its iterations. Including decaf. And Swiss Water is making it easy for even caffeine fiends to admit they like decaf, thanks to their nitro cold brew floats. With a Stumptown-roasted coffee from Colombia in tow, Swiss Water is soft-serving their way into attendees’ hearts.

There is very little in the way of signage at the Swiss Water booth to let folks know that what they are drinking is indeed uncaffeinated, so it was always fun to watch the reactions when the big reveal is made mid-float. There were more than a few raised eyebrows and some very deep looks inward: “Do I like decaf?” Yes. Yes you do.

Vega Coffee

Vega Coffee operates under an entirely different coffee business model. All their coffees are roasted at origin and then shipped to consumers worldwide within five days from the roast date. Originally only offering coffee from their home base in Estelí, Nicaragua, Vega has very recently—like, a month ago—opened a second operation in Popayán, Colombia.

This farmer direct model allows Vega to pay workers at origin four to five times what they would normally make, co-founder Rob Terenzi told me as I was munching on some delicious 70% cacao Nicaraguan dark chocolate Vega had on offer at their booth. One such person is Diego Lopez Perez, one of the producers in Nicaragua who, thanks to financial support from Fabretto, was able to come to Austin and engage with the coffee-consuming public, with Terenzi acting as translator.

Tiny House Coffee

A last minute addition to the Roaster’s Village, Austin’s Tiny House Coffee is looking to shift perceptions about where you can find good coffee. Now in their second year of existence, Tiny House isn’t a roaster you’re going to find on the guest program at a multi-roaster cafe; they’re going to be in your offices, gas stations, CrossFit gyms, places where everyone drinks coffee but maybe not always the best coffee. “We think unconventional places are the frontier of specialty coffee,” co-founder Blake Thomas stated.

And indeed, Tiny House is meeting customers where they are, both literally and figuratively. Along with kegged nitro as well as bagged cold brew (and concentrate), Tiny House offers a variety of roast levels to ease coffee acolytes into more modern profiles. Folks may start their journey with Tiny House’s dark roasted Rwanda before getting adventurous and moving towards the medium roast, currently a coffee from Huila, Colombia. And then finally, they’re going full light roast with the lovely Ethiopia Limmu Kossa. Coffee is a journey, and Tiny House is there with you every step of the way.

Third Wave Water

Coffee is 98% water, so of course we needed someone here to give some love to the majority of what’s in all these cups. After a successful trip to the Shark Tank, Third Wave Water came out to help attendees make better coffee at home. Giving out samples of both their standard and espresso profile packets, TWW was probably the most recognizable booth at the festival, thanks to their 11 to 12 foot tall Third Wave Water tower.

Those brave enough to let their curiosity lead them toward the tower were rewarded with a refreshing quaff of that hydrating elixir at the Third Wave Water fountain, dispensing ideal water for coffee, of course. As of press time, nearly 500 plastic bottles had been saved from finding their way to a landfill thanks thank to the TWWFountain.

Upruit

Brooklyn-based Upruit doesn’t consider themselves to be a coffee company; they are a carbonated tonic beverage company, who happens to have coffee in all their refreshing elixirs. With flavor options like Meyer Lemonade, Ginger Hibiscus, and Mint Grapefruit, Upruit offers a delicious ready-to-drink option that will be crucial in the coming summer months.

There’s a lot coming down the pipe for Upruit. Along with a fourth flavor currently still in R&D, Upruit will be launching a guest roaster subscription box program, where they will be working with different roasters to come up with new drink options delivered directly to the consumer’s door. Upruit is currently available at stockists in the Northeast, Amazon, and through their website.

Deadstock Coffee

Portland is the sneaker capitol of the world. Deadstock Coffee in Portland then, it stands to reason, is the sneaker coffee shop capitol of the world. For their corner of the Roaster’s Village, Deadstock came with custom burnt orange Nike Vandals, designed in collaboration with Mike Merlino, a Deadstock customer from PDX who made the trip out here with owner Ian Williams and the rest of his uniformed crew. Always keeping a watchful eye for the stylishly shod, Williams was always out front, handing out Jason Markk Quick Wipes (a must-have for keeping your sneakers looking clean in the dusty pavilion) and pulling in folks to snap Polaroids of their sneakers, which will be posted on the Deadstock Instagram once they make it back to Portland.

Folks were equally mesmerized by what Williams calls (non-alcoholic) “adult Capri Suns,” pouch-style coffee drinks like the Lebronald Palmer—a black tea, coffee, and lemon based reinterpretation of the Arnold Palmer—and the Charged Up, with green tea, peach, and mango. I came for the Deadstock merch, specifically their crewneck sweatshirt, and stayed for a few splashes of the Lebronald. Both the drink and its namesake are the GOAT. Sorry Kobe.

Five Elephant

Hailing all the way from Berlin, Five Elephant made its way to Austin via Alpine, Texas, a town known mostly for its proximity to Marfa. Working the Five Elephant booth were the folks from Cedar Coffee & Supply, perhaps the best place to get coffee that far south and west in Texas.

Using a single Modbar espresso module, Five Elephant was serving up tasty espresso beverages as well as nitro cold brew and tons of cool merch, including totes and Department of Brewology prints.

And that’s a wrap! Coffee’s maiden voyage at #SXSW is in the books, but the content activation continues across Sprudge Media Network in the coming days. Look for much more coverage of the Roaster’s Village right here on Sprudge.com.

Special thanks to all the participating brands, event crews, guests, pedi-cab drivers, the entire crew at SXSW (but especially Brett Cannon, Brittani Mathis and Amy Wanke), and the teams at Port of Mokha, Department of Brewology and Caffe Medici for collaboarting with us on a big Monday night podcast party. Extra special thanks to Liz Turner and Wade Michael at Stumptown for letting us set up podcast remotes in their chill dessert lounge, and to Falcon Coffees for supporting this year’s coverage.

#sxsw

The post The Very Best Of The Roaster’s Village At South By Southwest appeared first on Sprudge.

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