#the piece of shit was about the hate crime a ~13 year old boy the fuck is wrong with you???
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kurokoros · 6 months ago
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I think Blly Hrgrove fans may actually have just deluded themselves into thinking their fanon is actually what was shown on the screen. Your rat man sucks. Like. He sucks as a human being. He was racist (canon). He was abusive towards his sister (canon). He repeatedly antagonized Steve because of alpha male bullshit behavior (canon).
Just because you think it was actually homoerotic (fanon) and actually Blly was secretly concerned for Max because of how Neil could react to her dating a black boy (still fanon), doesn't make it true, and it doesn't make your "character study" somehow more valid.
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diabolicalcunt · 7 months ago
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I feel the need to pin this cause I’ve always been notorious for people loving me when they first meet me, and then finding out that my political views are not extremely liberal. So here’s all the reasons you will hate me once you get to know me. Or not. I honestly don’t care I’m just sick of the ‘You aren’t who I made you out be in my head!’ conversations.
So my unpopular opinions in no order-
1. They/them is something that’s being encouraged by big brother to see yourself as non or less human.
2. DID isn’t real and you just disassociate a specific way. I look like I’ve been drugged cause I fall down ‘inside’ myself like a well and have no reaction time and can barely speak. I’m like a sloth. You pretend to be a anime character. It’s just coping.
3. The concept of trans genocide is fear mongering by big brother and means to keep boundaries between social groups.
4. To build off 3, the push to medically transition underage children is a move by big pharmaceutical companies to create a permanent customer. Because whether you decide to stay transitioned or de transition, you’re going to be on medication for the rest of your life whether you like it or not. There’s also the whole issue with child exploitation. You’ll be judgmental against Dance Moms, but you won’t say anything about a mom who transitioned her child when they were two years old and made them a social media star.
5. Trans men and women who have been charged with a crime belong in LGBT prison wings. Because we have created a culture where male rapists can put on its dress and be rewarded with a permanent stay in the hen house where they can victimize more women and the system will just cry transphobia and call the victims liars. You got a problem with that? I have never seen a trans man pushing to get put in men’s prison. I wonder why… 😐
6. Blair White is queen.
7. I will fight Henry Cavill on sight. I don’t give a shit how bad you want motorboat him. He’s a fucking pedophile.
8. Same goes for David Bowie. When I get to the afterlife I’m gonna make him wish he could die again. Ask me if you want my full on sight list. 😂
9. I stand with Palestine. Yes I think Islam is a horrible religion that is anti woman. I still don’t think kids should die for the grievances of adults and I think it’s fucked up Israel is doing the same shit Nazis did to them and expect us to nod and smile!
10. Qu**r is just as much of a slur as f*g*t or n*gg*r. I don’t use it and if you do I will block you no questions asked. Say gay! Say lesbian! Say…bisexual! 😱
11. Butch women are valid as fuck and I adore y’all . They aren’t trans men, fuck your lesbian phobia.
12. To build off 11, the new LGBT movement has been infected by woke homophobia and the new trans movement is nothing but conversion therapy in a mask.
13 . Radical feminists are women’s last hope.
14. Marvel movies always sucked, we were just kids and ate up the pretty colors.
15. Dune is a white male savior story.
16. Your fave is not autistic, trans, gay or whatever. You just need validation cause you have no confidence.
17. The Boys should have never cast Jensen Ackles and the Supernatural fandom needs psychological help.
18. Too many of y’all try to primp and posture as the gods of your fandom and yes I say that as someone who did the same and stepped away when I realized how cringe I was. Lording over autistic adults and actual children is pathetic. Get therapy and a real hobby.
19. While gender neutral fanfiction has its place. The trend that all fanfiction needs to be gender neutral is literally killing the creativity and frankly the spice to fanfiction. I hate this trend where piece of media needs to be sterilized so it can be consumed by anyone, even people just passing by. It goes against the concept of creating at its core. Sometimes things are made for specific groups. Sometimes it’s made just for you. The things you create do not need to be sanitized to the point there’s no substance, just a hollow consumption. Think of it this way. Would you rather have a hot pizza of your preference or would you prefer to just drink a bowl of water because someone on the other side of the world might not like pizza?
20. The WWE Divas belt was iconic. I get the whole take women wrestlers seriously movement and I agree! But god damn it, it’s a Bratz belt!!! Gimme!!!!!
21. I fucking HATE koalas. They literally only exist because humans have dumped millions of dollars and keeping them alive. If natural selection were allowed to take his course, they would’ve died off 100 years ago. The food they consume has so little nutrition that they have evolved to have the smallest brain to cranium capacity of any animal to create a built in helmet!! Why? Cause they are so stupid they literally fall out of trees and drop their infants!!! They shit on their young and have permanent diarrhea due to the 0 nutrition thing. They carry chlamydia. They’re so fucking stupid they can’t fuck and have to be artificially inseminated to continue the population. If I couldn’t get laid on my own, the government would not drop millions of dollars into making sure I do!! So why did koalas get it? Literally a waste of resources that could be going to feed thousands of hungry children and instead we’re keeping a fucking retarded (I’m on the spectrum fuck you) animal alive who should have gone extinct hundreds of years ago cause it’s supposedly ‘cute’!! God! I hate koalas!
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ukiyokki · 4 years ago
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mars reads too much dreamnotfound fanfiction for their own good
a dreamnotfound fanfic recommendation list by your resident dumbass (me)
this took way to fucking long... i’m tired
below is a (very extensive) list dedicated to all my favorite dnf fics, ranging from quick one shots to 100k+ word monstrosities that devour the storage on my computer, forever incomplete masterpieces to ongoing works of art, you get the idea. i provided links for each fic/series for your reading pleasure. there will be no smutty/nsfw fics on this list, that’s just not my vibe lmao. this list goes in no particular order, and i’ll update it from time to time when i feel like it. now, without further ado, let us begin.
Heat Waves (complete) by tbhyourelame
(wtf else did you expect, looking at a dnf rec list?) amazingly well written, and while it’s not my favorite dnf fic it’s damn near close. in the midst of a brutal heatwave, a suffering dream comes to terms with the fact that he is desperately in love with his best friend. everything i could say about this fic has already been said by nearly everyone who’s read it, so if you haven’t yet caved into the hype, just go for it. you won’t be disappointed.
Gonna be around (completed) by georgescatcafe
(mc irl) my favorite dnf oneshot to date. just read it, i don’t wanna spoil for you :)
Inferno in the Sky (ongoing)by zairielon
(star wars au) an ongoing star wars au currently clocking in at almost 200k words. need I say more? everything about it absolutely slaps, each chapter is amazingly written, and it’s just good. also, can we just appreciate dream and tubbos dynamic in here? 10/10, amazing, must protecc. oh right, a summary: george, an exiled padawan turned engineer, must return to the jedi temple after attacks on it from an unknown assailant threaten the safety of himself and the other jedi.
Like Magic (ongoing) by KangarooKen, NotGra55 (Gra55)
(harry potter au) the unofficial official dnf harry potter au. we watch the young unlikely wizard pair grow up together throughout their years at hogwarts as they battle good old fashioned wizard racism. beautifully written, incredibly fun and suspenseful, and just an overall blast and a half.
GeorgeNotFound, Son of Poseidon, and the League of Minor Gods (ongoing) by Clichewho_69, Cygnvs, Trash_Kinggg
(percy jackson au) percy jackson au? check. “road trip” (technically quest but u get what i mean)? check. enemies to friends to lovers? check. this fic follows the plot of the lightning theif (albeit loosely), but everything is explained enough where you don’t have to read percy jackson to understand what’s going on. basically after moving to the usa, george gets taken to camp halfblood where he learns that a) gods exist. b) he’s the son of poseidon and c) he needs to prove that he didn’t steal zeus’s master bolt.
Protected (completed) by aenqua
(royalty/camelot au) my favorite piece of dnf media of all time. dubbed the official dnf camelot au, where dream is the heir to the throne and george is a servants son with a secret that couldp get him killed. these childhood friends grow up together and learn trust, love, and acceptance. (that summary did not justice to the masterpiece that is this fic) here’s the directors cut
The Hunter (completed) by HederEgo
(mc irl) a choose your own adventure fic with 13 different endings, where dream the hunter must kill george and stop him from beater the ender dragon. enough said.
The official dream team cowboy AU (series)(ongoing) by antsu_in_my_pantsu
(cowboy au) cowboys and outlaws horses and shit. and the big gay. it’s a cowboy au, what else did you expect? fucking yee haw (all seriousness this is a great read, i loved it so so so so much and i can’t wait for the final chapter to release).
This is a Drista moment, let's just accept it (completed) by Qekyo
dnf fic from drista pov. considering its unique perspective, it’s perfectly done. beautifully showcases a sibling relationship through drista and her memories/moments with dream, and it just works, y’a know? also drista supremacy.
Dear Dream (completed) by Qekyo
(wwii au) i don’t cry when watching/reading anything sad. translation: i’m a heartless bitch. however, this fic is the only exception. it caused me to cry so hard my mom walked in my room and asked if i was ok. ‘nuff said.
TECHNOlogical Wingman (completed) by Closeted_Bookworm
techno is the autocorrect ai on dreams phone, and he gains sentience. interesting concept, and the author fucking nailed it. great fic.
It Was Only a Fic (ongoing) by imagineitdear
dream starts reading a dnf fanfic (we’ve all been there buddy).
Teacher’s Pet (ongoing) by niyuha
(teacher au) in which dream is a high school english teacher and george is the new comp sci teacher in room 297.
Saltwater Secrets (ongoing) by earlgay_milktea
(mermaid/high school au) a great example of the shear amount of variety in fics this fandom has to offer. when i started reading dnf fics i would have never thought i’d find one about a mermaid george hopelessly crushing on his human friend, who happens to be his schools star swimmer. yet here i am, and i am far from disappointed.
Smash My Heart (incomplete) by dontrollthedice
george and sapnap are commentators for duper smash brothers tournaments, and george develops a crush on an up and coming smash streamer named dream.
roleplaying in the dark is harder than it seems (completed) by Alienu
laser tag. 10/10
solar system (completed) by quartzfia
(mc irl) george vists dream in pandora’s vault.
Ramblings of a Lunatic (completed) by jungkooksfic
ahh communicating through a notebook left on a shelf in a bookstore- what a perfect way to start a relationship.
Paint me like your French Girls (It's Charcoal, Actually) (completed) by Turtle_ier
(artist au) george is an art student, and dream is a model.
00:00:00 (completed) by isleofdreams
(soulmate au) 00:00:00 is the moment you meet your soulmate, as indicated but the clock ticking down on your wrist until the moment you meet. i’m not a fan of soulmate aus; this fic is the exception.
Blue Skies Smilin' At Me (completed) by kivy
(artist au) i don’t usually cry while reading stuff, but this brought me damn near close. george is a painting conservator and chats it is with the ghost of the artist if the painting he is working on. they fall in a love.
Current Location (incomplete) by hendollana
(influencer au) george simps for a hot american instagram model. who knew he’d actually follow back?
The Withering (series) (series ongoing, 1 work completed) by App1e_Juice
(mc irl) lore and world building and fight scenes and everything i crave. what’s not to love? something starts making the plants and crops around dreams village wither, and must team up with new friends to find the cause of the mysterious disease plaguing the land.
Minecraft, But You Can't Leave (complete) by facadecake
(mc irl) dream and george are sucked into their own private minecraft world together and must beat the game to escape.
Free The Game, Beat the End (incomplete) by goatgoatwasfound
(mc irl) a glitch in minecraft causes thousands of players from around the world to be trapped inside minecraft, with only one way of escape- beating the ender dragon. first dnf fic i ever read, and it’s still 10/10 for me.
Why don't you come a little closer? (completed) by lifeofandoms
george gets stood up by a date, and Dream pretends he’s the date to save george from the embarrassment. simply adorable.
lightning bug (completed) by saintachesP
(band au) while on tour, dream realizes his feeling for george.
Hold me closer (completed) by Treesofmyheart
(mc irl/dsmp) i just,, really like this trope.
Dizzy on caffeine (completed) by GleamingGreenGoggles
(coffee shop au) best dnf coffeeshop au i’ve read. periodt.
living a life of crime isn’t always easy (series) (completed) by itisjosh
(mafia/assassin au) stockholm syndrome except it’s not weird.
Inhibitions Make Interesting Situations (completed) by Ship_On_The_Sea
i pissed myself laughing. it’s just a dream and george being hilariously dense, flustered idiots. serotonin central.
thy eternal summer shall not fade (completed) by gracequills
(high school au) that moment when you recite shakespeare to your crush in your ap lit class instead of confessing (hate it when that happens).
All is Fair in love and Football (ongoing) by graciegirl2001
(college au) #1 favorite college au. in which george is a cheerleader, and dream is the football teams rising star player. this one gets extra points because of the amazing karlnap moments sprinkled throughout. *chefs kisses air*
online love (completed) by andbutso
(high school au) online classes go zoooooooom
Can’t help falling (completed) by isleofdreams
dream re-learns the guitar to sing to george on his birthday. beautiful. fluffy. amazing
dance in the rain and my arms (completed) by lazy_kitkat
george is a rain god, and dream is a wind god
Weather Boy (completed) by DaintyDiizzle
wouldn't you like to know, weather boy? (where dream can control the rain)
The color orange (completed) by anon
(mc irl) dream describes the colors of a sunset
Family Mode (completed)by Strawberry_flavoured_tears
they’re dads :,)
Breathing Room (incomplete) by papercranes
(band an) an amazing band au. the mad lad author wrote original songs for each chapter. above and beyond, mad props :). unfortunately, it’s incomplete
Piece of Clay (completed) by carbonbrine
(artist au) george is a sculptor and his sculpture comes to life- but oh no he’s hot.
Try (completed) by Not4typicalwriter
(royalty au) george must choose a suitor, but none of them are up to dream, his head knights, standards. or dream is hella jelly. also protective dream is perfect
When the Roses Bloom (completed) by HederEgo
(royalty au) close second for my favorite fic. go to royalty au for a quick serotonin bost. it’s all fluff and flowers and crushes, and i love it. criminally underrated.
Heavenstruck (ongoing) by dontrollthedice
george is dreams guardian angel, and dream want to find out more about him and his past life. bittersweet :,)
Bang and Burn (completed) by App1e_Juice
(spy au) george accidentally falls for target number 1 on sapnap’s secret agency’s hit list. this ones great, i love me a spy au :)
Can I get a uhh… (completed) by lemonskies
dream keeps pulling up to the drive through mcdonald’s that george works at drunk.
Pretty Stranger (completed) by anon
when looking for dream in the terminal, george sees a cute guy and decides to flirt.
Take my Hand (completed) by latinbias
(royalty au) another royalty au? poggers. surprise twists? double poggers. love this a lot.
seconds, minutes, hours, lifetimes (complete) by meridies
ROAD TRIP ROAD TRIP ROAD TRIP ROAD TRIP *inhales to compose herself* roadtrip au. unrequited love, ignored feelings, longing, pining, you know the drill. absolutely love this one, its the best roadtrip au i have ever read, in any fandom. (maybe cause i identify with it a little too much, but thats not important. whats important is that you read this fic. right now. im waiting).
Message redacted (complete) by justyouraverageloser
(text fic) dream asks for a girls number and realises hes been given the wrong number. however, an unexpected relationship starts to form between him and the stranger on the other end of the line.
the waves (completed) by anon
(mc irl) this fic was written by the same anon who wrote the color orange, which is up there on my fav dnf oneshot list. dream and george know they have a higher purpose. they don’t know where they came from, or why they are seemingly the only humans in the world, or how they feel about eachother, or even where the skeletons come from, but they are sure of one thing: they have to beat a dragon.
The Dream Doll (completed) by PeppDream (Pep_Pizza)
(voodoo i guess) i’m a real big fan of fics with really out there or unique concepts, so naturally this one makes the cut! i really liked it, it’s really sweet and made me think a lot about what matters to me in the world. george finds a strange doll in an antique shop, and would really like to just stuff it in a drawer and forget about it. sadly (?), the doll has other plans.
last updated February 6th, 2021
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oddlyhale · 3 years ago
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Jacques Schnee but as a good dad (AU)
So following up with my drawing before that I made of an AU'd Jacques Schnee, I wanted to make notes on what exactly is different to him in comparison to his original character from the show.
Jacques Schnee, age 44 years old. An older, widowed man who lives luxuriously in the cybernetic city of Atlas with his two kids, Weiss Schnee and Whitley Schnee. Widely known as the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company (SDC), the largest Dust-mining company in Remnant.
Jacques Schnee comes from a family with negative origins, mostly for their racist past towards Faunus, and how their Dust company had forcibly used Faunus to work in life-threatening conditions to mine Dust. This company was considerably recent, only being founded 100 years ago.
The day Jacques was born, he was not alone. With his twin brother, Arthur Schnee, the two grew up in a household that would be considered merciless under the vice grip of their controlling parents. Growing up, the brothers' parents were materialistic and valued the approval of other wealthy people. Having two sons was already seen as a wonderful step-up to their image (as they grew up in a time where daughters weren't highly considered so much.) Their father was in control of the heinous company, their mother ruled with an iron grip in the household.
As they grew up, Arthur began to adopt a rebellious side, as he was more vocal with how he hated life in the household. Jacques was more secluded, but he agreed with his twin. As twins, Arthur was older by 10 minutes.
Even if Jacques was not as vocal about his feelings, he hated their life as well. He wanted to be happy, and not have their tiger parents loom over them and watch their every move. What the demanding parents wanted out of their sons was to be the best, and by best, that meant they had to sacrifice much of their childhood and dedicate their time to being genius creations for the Schnee image.
Despite the stress and frustration, Jacques and Arthur showed that they were quite intelligent boys that had a specific talent for business and the new technology that Atlas was beginning to slowly involve and evolve. Arthur was much more advanced with academics, proving to be a sort of prodigy to whatever he put his mind to. Jacques was also great, but to his parents, he was just "fine."
It was at the age of 13 when Jacques discovered his semblance, being a user of cold elements. While this was amazing, unfortunately, Arthur would be the target of many disapproving years. He had no semblance, therefore he did not inherit the Schnee power. This upset the parents, as well as began to create a strain in the marriage. Despite the boys being twins, their father began to doubt Arthur was even his son, creating distance between him and his wife.
Notes: - Eventually, the parents become distant and the wife decides that she would rather have her dignity than to be called a harlot. So she leaves the household, leaving her sons and her husband. - The twins grow up and start having more awareness of what they can do to change their surroundings, one for the better and one for the worst. - Jacques copes by sneaking out to use his powers to play games and tricks on Atlas civilians. He loves summoning. - Arthur only plans to get back at his father for being a piece of shit, honing his skills on technology, wanting to become a scientist. - Father dies 'mysteriously,' now pushing the company and written responsibility onto Jacques. He didn't know he was to heir the company. Arthur doesn't care and vanishes to become a scientist. - Jacques takes up the responsibility anyways, though he doesn't like the conditions that his father left the company in. The White Fang movement begins, Jacques wants to change things so that Faunus won't have to work for SDC any longer in harsh conditions.
As Atlas' newest technology comes to fruition, Jacques is intrigued by the mass production that the new robots do to protect and serve. He then ponders on the new idea of creating robot miners and workers that can take the heavy labour from human/Faunus miners. This is how he first meets James and Pietro, wanting them to hear out his plans on replacing workers.
At first, they were unsure, wondering if they could really take away jobs from humans/Faunus in the SDC, but Jacques keeps pressing for change. He explains the terrible conditions and thinks things would be much more safe and efficient if robots were to do the mining instead, plus it would be a better look on the SDC and Atlas if they made that drastic change. Finally, the two conceded and begin the project with Jacques.
While the project was underway, Jacques and James didn't see eye-to-eye. Jacques openly didn't like how restrictive James could be with his attitude, finding him to be intolerable, but workable. James just didn't like Schnees, already having a sour relationship with Jacques' dead father, and now continuing that with Jacques' presence.
Meanwhile, Arthur had begun to distance himself from the Schnee name, renaming himself as Arthur Watts. It would help him get into his new career, finding himself enjoying being an Atlesian scientist among new colleagues he's met. This would be where their Project P.E.N.N.Y. is discussed, and how Arthur is involved in the creation.
- So far, the replacement of robots doing the mining works wonders to stop the heinous crime done to the human/Faunus workers, but it still doesn't exclude SDC from future problems and its rotten reputation that Jacques has to take time to fix. - Jacques and Willow soon meet, fall in love, and the two have children. Winter (eldest), Weiss (middle child), and Whitley (youngest.) - Unfortunately, Willow doesn't live long, as she suffered a terminal illness for years. She soon passes away before Weiss' 15th birthday. Jacques and Willow had been married for 20 years before her death. - Jacques has a fine relationship with his kids, trying to balance work with his family life. He still is the trickster as always, still finding enjoyment in playing games or pranks on others. While Winter and Weiss had awakened their semblances, Whitley still needed to learn how to unlock his. Or perhaps just like Arthur, Whitley would be without powers. - Arthur's demise from trying to help the Atlesian Scientists crumble as he is constantly pushed away by James, and feels rejected when he learns Pietro is chosen over him. He wants revenge and joins Salem's conquest. - Arthur has never met his nieces or nephew, but he's not shy of meeting them one day. Jacques is not so keen on his brother meeting them, but Arthur thinks nothing would be wrong if he did meet them. - Jacques has now been rewritten, thanks.
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yikesharringrove · 5 years ago
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Hi there! Can I get something with #13 and #39 with lots of hurt!Billy?, please friend?
Thank you for your request!
13: “Does it hurt?”
39: Stranded with a broken-down car
Prompts!
This got very long, and very angsty although I tried to throw some sweetness around. I hope you enjoy! I have included a lot of my own headcanons about Billy’s mom and his early life soooo. I was also thinking this takes place after season 2, maybe late April? idk.
There isn’t all that much hurt Billy, more Billy’s hurt leads him to word vomiting at Steve and them bonding 🤷‍♀️ I really hope you like it though!
Steve was fucked.
The engine of the BMW was cold. It wouldn’t even try to turn over when he turned the key in the ignition. No sound came from the under the hood.
Steve was on the edge of Hawkins, he had been at the quarry, wiling away some time while he couldn’t sleep. It was probably close to four in the morning now, so he said fuck it, got out of the car, and started walking home. He would hopefully make it with enough time for a shower and some coffee before walking to school. Maybe his old ten-speed was in the garage still...
Headlights blared at him from around the corner, sweeping over and past him before the car stopped and reversed, pulling up with the passenger door at Steve’s elbow.
“Harrington, what the fuck are you doing here?”
Billy Hargrove, his knight in shining denim was speaking through the window, near shouting over the loud purr of the engine and the screaming of some metal band Steve didn’t bother to know the name of.
“I’m walking.”
“I see that, dumbshit. Why are you walking down the fucking highway at four-thirty in the fucking morning?”
“Car broke down by the quarry. Figured I would walk home.” Steve shuffled his feet, looking down. “I, uh, couldn’t sleep. So. Went for a drive.”
“Get in.” He almost didn’t hear Billy’s command, but Steve knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth. So, he got in.
“Thanks, man.” Billy just nodded slightly, his face mostly hidden by the darkness of the night. He floored the car, speeding along away from Hawkins. “Um, you know my house is-it’s the other way.” Steve took in how tense Billy was, his jaw clamped and his shoulders raised. His grip on the steering wheel was nothing like the lazy one-hand her usually kept.
“You ever just need to escape? Even for a little bit?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.” Steve settled in his seat. He was not opposed to taking a drive with Billy, who seemed to relax a bit. Steve was always good at reading other people. Sometimes he ignored his gut feelings in favor of something he so desperately wanted (the whole Nancy situation was example enough for that), but he could tell when something was wrong. And something was really fuckin wrong with Billy Hargrove tonight.
They drove in silence, flying down the main highway, past the Leaving Hawkins sign.
Steve turned down the music a fraction. “You wanna go get breakfast? I know a good all diner in Indianapolis. They’ll probably be open by the time we get there. My treat.”
Billy just shrugged, but he didn’t turn the music back up, and Steve called that a win.
It was nearly two hours to the city, longer if the person driving you wasn’t a speed demon, so the sun was rising by the time fields began to give way into suburbs, suburbs blooming into urbanism.
Steve sat up, ready to direct Billy to the diner on the corner of Shelby and Norton when he caught sight of Billy in the weak morning sun.
“Jesus fucking Christ. Billy, what happened?” His left eye was puffy, the cheekbone below it swollen and purple, a cut right on the high point. His jaw had long bruises on either side, as though, well it looked as though someone had grabbed him by it.
Steve thinks the worst thing were Billy’s hands.
His knuckles were white, his grip a vice on the steering wheel, but they were free of any bruising, any splits. Steve had been on the receiving end of those fights. He knew Billy fought back, and well, so if he didn’t.
Maybe he couldn’t.
The thought sent a chill down Steve’s spine.
“Can it Harrington. I’m fucking fine.”
“You’re obviously not ‘fucking fine’, Billy. What happened? Who did this?”
“Look, Princess. I’m not one of your fucking kids, so just shut your fucking mouth and leave it the fuck alone or I will make you get out of my fucking car and WALK back to shithole Hawkins. Give me directions, or get out.”
Steve sighed and led Billy along, only speaking when absolutely necessary.
They pulled up in front of Joe’s Shelby Street Diner just as a kind looking waitress with a round face and a gray ponytail was flipping the sign from closed to open.
“Welcome in boys. Take a seat anywhere you like and I’ll be by with some menus.” She blinked at Billy’s face. “And some coffee.” Steve just nodded at her and led Billy to a corner both against the windows.
“My parents used to take me here.” Steve was staring down at his hands on the table, not knowing where to look. “When I was little my dad opened a branch in the city and got an apartment out here. He would only come home on weekends so every Tuesday my mom would pick me up from school, and we’d drive out here together, and meet my dad for dinner.” He doesn’t know why he’s telling billy all of this.
“My mom worked at a joint like this. I would come and hang out after school. She would sneak me rootbeer floats and help me with my homework on her breaks.” He was smiling bitterly. Steve had never heard Billy say anything about his mother before.
“What was she like?”
Billy took a breath, his own hands nervously tugging on the sleeves of his jacket. The denim one. Steve liked it.
“She had me real young, dropped outta high school when she got pregnant at fifteen kinda young. My dad was in Vietnam when I was born. Married her when he came back. I was six. She was a total hippie, she got kicked outta her house when she got knocked up, and lived on a commune with a buncha people until my dad came back. I think she only married him so she could have a place to sleep that wasn’t a tent in a field. I don’t remember a lotta that. didn’t eat any meat until I was, like eight years old. And she fuckin’ named me after William Pester, this like hippie leader who was real famous or something. ”
Billy took a break from his story when the kind waitress returned to get their orders, both boys loading up on breakfast. Steve tried not to speak so loud, afraid of breaking this spell he had created in this booth with Billy.
“Once my dad was back in the picture, it was pretty different. He’s an asshole. Made her change everything about herself. She was always real Catholic, but kind of a free spirit. Only listened to the parts of The Bible that were nice and said to love everyone, but my dad said pickin’ and choosin’ from The Bible was just pussyfooting around religion. She didn’t like that.
“He was a piece of shit from the jump. Married her because ‘a good man supports his family’ or some garbage. Good man my ass. He would yell at her about how she was raisin’ me. Said he left to defend our country, and here she was making sure his only son grew up to be a fuckin’, well. He has a few choice words about me.”
Their food was set down before them, Steve absolutely enraptured by everything Billy was saying. They ate in silence for a minute.
“Do you mind if, I mean, did she pass away?” Steve wanted Billy to keep talking. He liked learning more about him. Every word he said only softened the edges, made him so much more human.
“Nah. She left. Packed her shit one night and was just, gone. She called me a few weeks later and I fuckin’ BEGGED her to take me with her, but she wouldn't come back. I think she went back to her commune or something. I haven’t seen her since I was ten.”
“So, you’ve been with your dad ever since?”
“Yeah. He’s not jazzed about it. Always likes to remind me that I’m a bastard. He’s the one that fucked a fifteen-year-old. He was like, twenty when he did that.”Billy rolled his eyes, shoving a piece of toast into his mouth.
“Did he, do,, that?” Steve asked the question slowly, carefully. Billy snapped his eyes up to meet him.
“So what if he did?”
“I mean-I just, does it hurt?” Billy just stared.
“Are you stupid?” Steve recoiled. “Of course it fucking hurts. He got me real good this time. He’s been especially bitter since we moved here.”
“I’m sorry. That was a stupid, stupid question.” Steve pushed around the scrambled egg on his plate. “Why did you guys move here?”
“You want Neil’s fake answer, or do you want the real one?” Billy leaned in conspiratorily. Steve mirrored him without even meaning to. “Can you keep a secret, Pretty Boy?”
Images of tunnels, of monsters, of staring death in the face and charging it with a spiked bat, dreams of hard, muscular masculine bodies flashed through his mind.
“Yeah. I’m good at secrets.”
“So Neil likes to say it’s to get a fresh start. Move somewhere where nobody knows us. We can have a clean slate as a family.” He spat the last few words out. “But the real story is, he wanted to get my gay ass outta liberal, free lovin’ California, to a shitty hick town where I would be the victim of a fuckin’ hate crime if I let my impulses run wild. He caught me with a guy. We weren’t even doing anything good, just makin’ out. Dad went apeshit though. Threw me down some stairs.” He rolled his eyes and casually kept eating like he hadn’t just dropped this enormous fucking bomb on Steve. 
“I’m so sorry, Bill.”
“Why are you sorry? You didn’t hit me. It wasn’t the first time, sure as shit wasn’t the last.”
“Is that why your mom left?”
“Yeah, she was gettin’ it pretty bad there. I mean, so was I, so I don’t get why she left me there with him. Sometimes I really hate her for it.”
“I’m sor-” Steve cut himself off when Billy gave him a sharp look. “You don’t deserve that, is all.”
“I don’t get you, Harrington. You sit there, after I dumped all this shit on you, gave you some incriminating facts about me, and you just tell me I don’t deserve to get hit by my old man. I beat the shit outta you, remember?”
“Yeah, but honestly, I was being super shady that night. I shouldn’t have lied to you about Max.” Steve shrugged. 
“That wasn’t all you, Harrington. I had gotten into it with my dad about her, how she’s my responsibility and all that, and then Mrs. fuckin’ Wheeler was all over me when I went there-I mean, don’t get me wrong. I definitely flirted a little to get some information from her, but all I really did was like, stand there. I think I ate a cookie. Usually, older women just get a little flustered, but she was, like, into it. So, I was runnin’ pretty hot by the time I met you.”
“Oh my GOD, Karen used to flirt with me all the time! I would just sit and awkwardly smile and be like, yes hello, I am here to see your teenage daughter, since I am her teenage boyfriend.” Billy laughed at that, a real boisterous laugh Steve had never heard from him before. Steve decided he liked it. 
“That’s fucking disgusting. Just because she’s unhappy with her life, doesn’t mean she gets to throw her cat at teenage boys.” Steve choked on his pop, trying not to spew it all over the table. 
“Please never say that again,”  he coughed out as Billy threw his head back and laughed. He slowly regained himself. “And, you know, I mean what I said. I’m good at secrets. I won’t, I’m not gonna tell anybody.” Billy smiled at him. 
“Yeah? King Steve got some secrets? Any you’d like to share with the class? You know, so we’re on even turf here.” Billy winked. Steve’s face went hot. 
“Well, I mean, you and I may have some things in, uh, in common.” 
“What, like shitty dads?”
“No. Well, I mean yes, but other things.”
“Mommy issues?”
“Oh, definitely, but like, OTHER stuff, too.” He willed Billy to understand. He didn’t know if he’d be able to say it out loud. 
Luckily Billy got it. A look of pure shock spread over his face, followed by a huge grin.
“No fuckin’ way. No fuckin’ way you’re gay too, Harrington.”
“Well, I mean. I don’t know.”
Billy’s face fell.
“You don’t know?”
“I mean, like, I like girls. A lot. Like I love girls and everything about them, but there’s also, there’s also guys. And I-there’s definite interest, is what I’m saying.”
Billy smiled again, a softer one this time. 
“That’s okay. Y’know some people are into both. Bisexual, is the word. David Bowie is bisexual. For some people, it’s more about the personality of the person, less the, bits I guess.”
“There’s-I mean-Bowie? Sorry, I just mean, like, there are people like that?”
“Yeah, the whole thing doesn’t have to be black and white if that’s not what you feel.”
“Fuck. That was-thanks man.” Steve mulled the word around in his head. Bisexual. It made sense. It felt, good. “Bisexual.” Billy smiled at him again. He returned it.
Billy checked his watch, yawning like a huge cat. 
“Fuck, Pretty Boy. We should probably head back. If we go fast we could probably only be a little bit late for class. 
“I mean, or we could say fuck it.” 
Billy’s eyes lit up.
“Yeah? What do you suggest we do?”
“I don’t even care man, but it’s been way too long since I’ve been in the city, and I feel like we could both use a break from fucking Hawkins. Plus, I don’t know. I like hanging out with you.”
Steve ducked his head, studying the patch of table by Billy’s left elbow, face hot and undoubtedly red. 
“I could go for a nice day of playing hooky with you.” Steve beamed at Billy, throwing some bills down on the table. 
“Then lets fucking go then.” He bounded back to the Camaro, Billy’s sweet laugh ringing through the diner.
Oh yeah, Steve could definitely get used to this.
114 notes · View notes
particularemu · 5 years ago
Text
Insanity | A Hwang Hyunjin Series | Part 4
Part: [Prologue] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Epilogue]
Word Count: 6917
Type: ANGST, FLUFF
Warnings: blood, murder, physical violence, drugs, depression, anxiety, insanity, and there’s an intense anger spell
Tag List: @alightiny​ @cheonsali​ @joojoosiwa (fuck tumblr doesn’t like me tagging you bby)
Author’s Note: Fucking hell this chapter is long. Sorry, it took so long folks! This is such a dark series and I really have to be in the right headspace to bust out a chapter. 
Thanks to @jisungsjheekies​ for looking this over and hyping me up so I can finish this shit. 
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“What did you do?”
Your heart pounded in your chest as you attempted to crawl toward Hyunjin. He didn’t think you actually killed the man, did he? Your head lolled to the side, noticing the shard of glass in your hands. Tears ran down your cheeks as you spotted your mother’s music box, shattered on the floor. You were terrified. 
Hyunjin pulled you into his arms, noticing how limp your body was. His heart dropped when he felt your body shake ever-so-slightly in his grasp. This wasn’t your fault. “Oh my God sweetheart.” Hyunjin shivered in fear. “It’s okay. We’re gonna figure this out.” 
“I didn’t do it.” Your words sounded slurred and jumbled, but Hyunjin seemed to understand what you were trying to tell him. 
“I know sweetheart.” Hyunjin held you tight to his chest, hand rubbing your back to soothe you. The last thing he wanted was his fear to lead you into a panic attack. “I know.” 
Hyunjin’s mind was racing a million miles a minute. Did you do it? Of course, you didn’t. From what he’s seen, you wouldn’t hurt a fly let alone kill a man. How on earth was he going to prove your innocence? Who did this? Why would they want to frame you? What’s going to happen to you? Should he try and hide the body and clean up the mess before anyone notices? How do you even go about doing that?
Hyunjin mentally cursed his lack of interest in crime shows. Maybe that would have given him some ideas on how to get away with murder. 
Your quiet whimper shook Hyunjin out of his thoughts. He rested his thumb on your neck, lips moving quickly as he counted your heart rate. 
“Oh my God!” 
Hyunjin’s heart dropped in his stomach when he heard a man cry out in fear.  He could feel your heart beat a mile a minute underneath his fingertips. 
Of course… Of course, this had to happen right now. By the look of it, the frightened man was a caretaker at the asylum. Perhaps Hyunjin could convince the boy to look the other way? 
“She fucking killed him.” The brunette pulled out a phone. 
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Hyunjin glared daggers at the man, making him stop his movements. “You don’t even know what happened.” 
“You do?” The man scoffed. “Look at her! She’s holding the murder weapon.” 
Well yes… that looked REALLY bad.
Hyunjin’s eyes scanned the body, pausing to inspect each and every stab wound that littered his chest. There was no way a shard of glass that large would create such small wounds… Not to mention that the force of the glass against your skin would have left severe gashes in your hands. Judging by your unbroken skin, your drugged state, and the obvious knife wounds in the man’s body, there was no way you could have killed the man. 
Hyunjin felt his heart drop when his eyes rested upon your mother’s music box, completely shattered on the floor. Small, colorful glass pieces glistened in the moonlight. Wait a second… Did they break the music box, hoping to prove you guilty? It makes sense. If you broke your own music box, took a shard of glass, and killed a man, the hospital could get rid of you easily. The large shard of glass that rested in your hands was far too large to have been from the music box. 
Why on earth would someone want to do this to you? You were nothing but a calm, collected patient looking to regain her memories. Hyunjin couldn’t imagine you getting on someone’s bad side. You were far too sweet. 
Then again… He does have a bit of a crush on you… So perhaps he’s biased. 
Still — it would be unusual for a caretaker to handle another doctor’s patient. So he wasn’t sure how you could have gotten on someone’s bad side. 
Hyunjin paled, eyes widening as he recalled the events over the past few weeks. Since he arrived at the Rosewood Psychiatric Institution, he’s questioned the medication and treatments, refused to give you your medication, and pissed off the lead doctor’s right-hand man. Could someone be trying to get back at him?
That would do it. 
Anyone could see how much Hyunjin adored you. The boy never left your side. He’d do anything to make sure you were safe and taken care of — even if it meant soiling his somewhat mediocre reputation at the asylum. 
“She’s being set up,” Hyunjin mumbled, the words tumbling out of his lips before he could stop them. He really shouldn’t be saying stuff like this out loud, but… he was positive it was the truth. You were being set up. There was no way you killed that man. 
“What makes you think that Dr. Hyunjin?” Dr. Douglas’s voice startled Hyunjin out of his trance. 
The brunette standing in the corner seemed happy. “Dr. Douglas, you’re here! What are we going to do with her sir?”
Shut the fuck up you pretty son of a bitch.
“Look at her sir.” Hyunjin glanced down at you, noticing your far-off look. You were completely out of it. “She can’t get up, the shard of glass doesn’t match the stab wounds…” Hyunjin trailed off, trying to think. He had to use the right words or you were going to be taken away from him. “That glass would have cut her hands if she did it. She’s completely out of it sir, there’s no —”
Dr. Douglas cleared his throat. “Son,” 
Pure rage filled Hyunjin’s mind as he lashed out. “I’m not your son!” Hyunjin’s eyes were filled with pure hatred as he pulled your body closer to his chest. He had to protect you. He couldn’t let you go. He couldn’t let them take you from him. “I don’t understand why you aren’t at least interested in investigating this. What kind of doctor are you?” 
“One that cares about his patients.” Dr. Douglas glared at Hyunjin, voice matching his in volume. “This isn’t the first time she’s killed Dr. Hyunjin. I suggest you get your facts straight before jumping to conclusions.” 
Your eyes snapped to Hyunjin, regaining enough control over your body to grasp onto the thin fabric of his uniform. You’ve never killed a man… You’d remember that kind thing… right?
“That’s not true…” Hyunjin trailed off. It couldn’t be… Hyunjin looked into your eyes, heart breaking when he saw the genuine fear etched in your features. You were terrified. “She doesn’t have it in her.” 
“I don’t know what kind of lies she has you believing.” Dr. Douglas chuckled. “You’ve been here three months Hyunjin. You may have a couple of degrees hanging over your shoulder, but you don’t know everything.” Dr. Douglas turned to the brunette in the room. “Asher, go get Changbin.” 
So the bastard’s name was Asher...
Asher nodded, an evil smirk gracing his lips as he left the room. “Yes, sir.” 
God, that fucker was just waiting to get you in trouble. 
“Sir, you have to listen to me.” Hyunjin’s thumb rubbed soothing circles on your shoulder, trying to comfort you despite the fact that you were, most likely, headed to the serial killer side of the asylum. “She’s not like that. I don’t know who did this, but I know it wasn’t her.” 
“Hyunjin, watch it.” Dr. Douglas cut him off. “I won’t hesitate to fire you if you keep acting up.” 
Hyunjin couldn’t help but scoff. What is he a three-year-old? “I’m just concerned about my patient.” 
“We all are.” Dr. Douglas sighed. “We’re doing what’s best for her.” 
Yeah right…
Hyunjin felt his heart pang in his chest when Changbin ran into the room, eyes immediately scanning the bedroom for any threats. His eyes softened when they rested on you and Hyunjin. 
“Changbin, take her to one of the padded rooms until we can have a doctor meet with her.” Dr. Douglas crossed his arms over his chest, eyes practically daring Hyunjin to retort. 
Which he did~ 
“I’m a doctor. Why can’t I check her?” Hyunjin’s hateful eyes met Dr. Douglas’s annoyed stare. 
“You’re too close with the patient.” He sighed. 
“Then have Minho check her over.” Hyunjin glared, “Or Chan.” 
Dr. Douglas rolled his eyes, cutting off the conversation completely as he gave the command. “Take her away Changbin.” 
Changbin looked defeated. Hyunjin could tell he wanted to help, but his hands were tied. “Yes, sir.” Changbin kneeled down next to Hyunjin. “Sorry bud, I have to take her.” 
“No.” Hyunjin pulled you closer to his chest, praying that his iron grip could keep you in his arms. He didn’t want you to go. He was afraid of what would happen to you without his protection. “I’m going to protect her with all I’ve got.” Hyunjin clenched his eyes shut, begging his tears to go away. He couldn’t show weakness… not now. 
Changbin leaned in closer, whispering so no one else could hear, “You and I both know I’ll win this fight. I’m on your side.” Changbin gave him a look — one that was begging him to just go along with this, to let him take you away. Despite his heart telling him to hold you close, Hyunjin reluctantly let you go, allowing the older boy to lift you up effortlessly. 
Hyunjin noticed the look of betrayal in your eyes as you attempted to get out of Changbin’s grasp, body shaking and thrashing as much as you could in your drugged state. Tears ran down your face as you called out to him, your feeble cries shattering Hyunjin’s already broken heart. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he ran after Changbin. “Please just let me take her!” 
“Get out of here Hyunjin,” Changbin shouted over his shoulder. “You don’t want to see this.” 
“No,” Hyunjin ran as quick as he could, long legs allowing him to catch up to Changbin’s stride. He stood in front of Changbin, blocking the shorter man’s path with his body. “Please, she trusts me, just —” 
Hyunjin gasped as you slipped out of Changbin’s grasp, body falling to the floor with a loud thud. With what little strength you had, you pulled yourself over to Hyunjin, shaky hands grabbing his pant leg. “Please.” You sobbed. “Please don’t let them take me.” 
“I’m so sorry.” Hyunjin kneeled down, fingertips brushing the hair out of your face. That was it — the breaking point for him. After months of being in this shitty asylum, taking care of such a sweet girl, having doctors sabotage your recovery, he finally broke down. Hyunjin fell to his knees and pulled you to his chest, tears rolling down his face as he begged whatever Gods were above to keep you safe. He knew there was nothing he could do — he knew that you were most likely going to be tortured, abused, and drugged beyond all reason, and yet he knew he had to let you go. For your ultimate safety, he had to let Changbin take you away. 
“Hyunjin…” Changbin trailed off, resting his hand on the younger boy’s shoulder. “Let her go.” 
“No.” Hyunjin sobbed. He felt like a toddler. Frankly… he was acting like one, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen to you. 
“Hyunjin —” 
“Let me.” Minho stepped forward, grabbing Hyunjin underneath the armpits and pulling him away from you. That very moment, Changbin pulled you out of his arms, quickly lifting you up and carrying you down the hallway before Hyunjin could stop him. Hyunjin thrashed around in Minho’s grip, crying out for you as you disappeared from his sight. 
As soon as Minho let him go, Hyunjin turned around and smacked Minho’s chest with such force, the older boy tumbled back into the wall behind him. “Why did you do that?” Hyunjin sniffled. “I could have helped her you asshole.” 
SMACK! 
Hyunjin grunted as Minho smacked him across the cheek, falling backward until he hit his back on one of the doorknobs. 
Damn that hurt. 
“You have to get your shit together.” Minho grabbed Hyunjin by the collar, roughly shoving him against the wall until the boy calmed down. “You can’t help her like this. Calm the fuck down and tell me what the hell happened.” 
Hyunjin rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he explained. “She’s being framed for murder. They set it all up Minho.” Hyunjin told the boy everything, from the dead body in her room to the broken shard of glass resting in your hands. “It just doesn’t add up.” Hyunjin sniffled, trying to get his emotions in check. “You have to help me.” 
“You really do love her don’t you?” The older boy smirked. 
Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “Now’s not the time to tease me over senseless shit.” 
“It’s not senseless if it’s true — and I know for a fact it’s true.” Minho chuckled when Hyunjin glared at him. “Okay okay, getting back on track. This isn’t the first time this has happened. From what you’re telling me, this is exactly what happened to my patient, Han Jisung.” 
“Your patient was framed for murder?” Hyunjin’s brows creased. Is that how they get rid of people? “What happened to him?”
“He made it out just fine.” Minho’s eyes softened. “She’ll be okay Hwang. Don’t worry so much. We’ll get her out of there.” 
“How do we do that?” Hyunjin didn’t even know where to start. 
“You really think I haven’t already come up with a plan?” Minho shook his head, making the younger boy chuckle. “I’m no genius like you Hwang, but I know exactly what to do.” 
-----------------------
Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock.
Oh, how you wanted to rip that clock out of the wall. The least they could do is shut the damn thing off. Minutes melted into hours which morphed into days and here you were… stuck in this damn room. 
The padded room was the most dreadful place anyone could be in. There was nothing to do, no one to talk to, nothing to look at, and the caretakers only came in to force-feed you and shove pills down your throat. To top it off, the only things you got to listen to were the constant ticking of that shitty clock and the sounds of the voices in your head. 
Not those kind voices… Do you even have those anymore? No, you got to listen to the ones that told you horrible things. 
You were positive you were taking that bad drug Hyunjin’s been throwing out… Peroproxin. As soon as the pills were shoved down your throat, you could feel it in your bones. The crippling anxiety, anger, and panic transformed you into this person you couldn’t place. Your body felt shaky, mind racing with various worst-case scenarios and horrible possibilities as soon as you closed your eyes. It wasn’t as if you could keep them open. The damn room was so bright, it was borderline painful to look at. 
It had been three days since you were dragged down here. The barren white walls were slowly making you crazy. You just wanted out of there. You wanted Hyunjin. 
That boy was the only happiness you had in this world. All you wanted to do was sit next to him and hear him share the fond memories he has of his mother and father. You longed to hear him talk about college, his research, or just any old thing. Hyunjin could talk about garbage and it would intrigue you. 
The uncomfortable padded floor made you wish Hyunjin’s arms were around you instead. You thoroughly enjoyed resting in Hyunjin’s arms when you’ve had a bad day. He always knows exactly what to do to calm you down. You closed your eyes as you imagined Hyunjin’s arms around you, his gentle voice whispering soothing words in your ears. If only your imagination was good enough. 
It wasn’t the same...
You just wanted him — especially when you were one step away from losing your goddamn mind. That goddamn clock was literally driving you crazy. 
You used all your strength, punching, kicking, smacking the walls until someone punched the door on the other side. “Knock it off in there.” 
“Fucking make me.” You snarled, punching the door with more vigor. Why were you so angry? You were normally such a calm person. Was it the medicine? You couldn’t place why, but you were ready to claw someone’s eyes out. 
“Get the fuck back.” 
You laughed maniacally, hands threading in your hair as your mind turned against you. You officially lost it. 
As soon as your fingernails dug into your scalp, you heard the familiar boots scuff against the floor as the guards poured into the room. From what you could place, there were three. One kicked you to the ground, another pulled you up by your hair, and they all forced you into a straight jacket. Once you were completely secure, one of the guards kicked you down to the ground, leaving you stuck and helpless on the floor. 
Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock. 
Fuck the padded room. 
-----------------------
Hyunjin sighed, fingertips pinching the bridge of his nose as he mumbled, “The footage is missing.” 
“I see that dumbass.” Minho sighed. He was hoping the video footage would show the culprit, but he only found missing sections during the time of the murder. “Whoever we’re dealing with has access to security.” 
“They must have deleted the footage when Changbin was taking her to the padded room.” Hyunjin’s eyes drifted shut as he tried to keep his emotions in check. It’s already been three days. You were probably going crazy in there. Hyunjin prayed to God that you still trusted him — believed in his ability to help you. If you lost that trust… he didn’t know what he’d do. 
“I have a plan.” Minho blurted out. 
“Last time you had a plan it didn’t go too well,” Hyunjin smirked, nudging the older boy’s shoulder. 
Minho rolled his eyes. “Okay, unless you have a plan, I suggest you shut the fuck up and listen.” 
Hyunjin couldn’t help but chuckle. Being around Minho was a breath of fresh air. The older boy was snarky and sarcastic 90% of the time, but he had a big heart and hated this hospital just as much as he did. Hyunjin couldn’t imagine being stuck in that asylum without him. “What’s your plan?”
Minho’s face dropped slightly. “You’re not going to like it.”
“I’m not sucking anyone’s dick.” Hyunjin shook his head. “Especially not Dr. Douglas’s. I’d consider Asher though.” 
“Christ.” Minho couldn’t help but laugh. “Why is your mind always in the gutter?”
“You told me I wouldn’t like it.” Hyunjin snickered. “I started thinking about the worst thing you could possibly have me do and sucking dick is number one.” 
“Really?” Minho chuckled. “So you’d kill a man over sucking Dr. Douglas’s dick?”
“Okay, but…” Hyunjin trailed off. “I feel like his dick would be super gross.” 
“Oh my God, can we please stop talking about our boss’s dick?” Minho pushed Hyunjin’s shoulder, sending both of them into a fit of giggles. 
“Thanks.” Hyunjin smiled. “I needed this.” 
Minho shrugged. “I’m not doing anything. You were the one who brought up dick sucking.” 
Hyunjin couldn’t help but chuckle. “Ok seriously, what’s your plan?” 
“You’re going to have to apologize to Dr. Henry.” Minho smiled sheepishly at Hyunjin. 
“Okay.” Hyunjin threw his hands in the air. “Apologizing to that asshole officially tops dick sucking.” 
Minho laughed. “Seriously? Your logic confuses me.” 
“He’s such an asshole.” Hyunjin’s brows creased as he remembered all the bad things that man has done to you. “I’ll apologize but right after I leave I’m saying sike.” 
“Just keep him distracted so I can get my ass in there and look around.” Minho rolled his eyes at Hyunjin’s dramatics. 
“Fine.” Hyunjin crossed his arms. “Wait… Why Dr. Henry?”
Minho gave Hyunjin an exasperated look. “Seriously? He’s the shiftiest guy here.”
“Touché.” Hyunjin mumbled. “Fine, I’ll keep him distracted. You go find evidence to put that fucker in prison.” 
“We ride!” Minho darted out into the hallway, making the ebony-haired boy chuckle. 
Hyunjin rushed down the hallways, finding Dr. Henry as he headed back to his office. Minho was leaning against the wall, waiting for Hyunjin to make his move. 
Damn that boy moves fast. 
“Excuse me, sir!” Hyunjin speed-walked over to Dr. Henry, long legs making it easy to catch him while he was still a good distance away from the office. Frustration bubbled in Hyunjin’s chest as Dr. Henry rolled his eyes, shoving his pen in his front pocket as he turned to look at Hyunjin. “Do you mind if we talk for a second?”
“Of course not.” Dr. Henry crossed his arms, bracing himself for an argument. 
“I just wanted to apologize for my behavior lately.” Hyunjin smiled nervously, messing with his hands in front of him. “I’ve been really nervous lately and with everything that’s going on with my patient, I just… I was on edge. I was hoping we could start over.” Hyunjin’s eyes shifted behind Dr. Henry, noticing Minho stealthily slip into the office. 
Minho sighed in relief as he closed the door behind him. First things first… he has to look through the paperwork on the desk. Perhaps he could find a written note or some sort of written evidence. He had to find something that would prove you didn’t murder that man. Minho’s eyes scanned the various papers, sighing when he saw typical prescriptions and doctor’s notes. Those wouldn’t help your case at all.
“Wait Dr. Henry!” 
Minho held his breath when he heard Hyunjin’s frantic voice. His shoulders relaxed when he heard Hyunjin start small talk with Dr. Henry on the other side of the door. 
Time to look through the drawers. Minho opened one of the drawers, nearly gagging when he saw a box of condoms. What kind of doctor needs condoms in this damn place? Who was he fucking? Probably Janice from the front desk. She was known to seduce the doctors in the institution. 
Minho quickly shut that drawer and opened another, gasping when he spotted a knife. Could this be it? Minho pulled the knife out of the drawer, eyes widening when he saw the blood stains coating the entire blade. 
This had to be it!
“Hyunjin I have to go back to work.” 
Minho quickly shoved the knife in his pocket, closed the drawer, and sat down in the chair neatly placed on the other side of Dr. Henry’s desk. 
“What are you doing here Minho?” Dr. Henry tossed a couple of files on his desk. “I don’t recall scheduling a meeting with you.” 
“I wanted to talk to you about the glass removal.” Minho trailed off, trying to think up a good lie. “One of Dr. Brock’s patients wandered out in the lobby and BROKE THE PURPLE VASE,” Minho said the last part louder, hoping Hyunjin was still out there to hear him. Please just go out there and break the damn vase… “We should probably remove glass decor everywhere to prevent patients from getting hurt.” 
Dr. Henry looked unamused as he opened one of his drawers, tossing his notepad in there for safekeeping. “Dr. Brock should be controlling his patient.” 
“But if —”
“Minho.” Dr. Henry glared at the younger boy. “I don’t have time for this pointless shit. If you think the glass should be removed, then remove it. You don’t have to talk to me about every little thing. I have better things to do.” 
“Yes, sir.” Minho sighed and stood up. “Sorry for disturbing you.” Minho frowned when Dr. Henry waved him off, eyes refusing to leave the file in front of him. “Asshole.” He mumbled under his breath as he walked out of the office, bumping into a frantic-looking Hyunjin. 
“I’m so sorry. I tried to get him to stop but he just barged through me.” Hyunjin’s eyes were full of worry, anxiety taking over him as he apologized for his carelessness. “I could have gotten you in so much trouble.” 
“What an asshole.” Minho’s brows creased as he remembered the conversation that took place in the office. That douchebag didn’t care about his patients one bit. 
Hyunjin’s head fell as he tried to apologize. “I’m so sorry. I suck. I had one job.” 
“No, not you dumbass.” Minho chuckled and ruffled the taller boy’s hair. “Did you break the vase?”
Confusion took over the Hyunjin’s features. “No? I was supposed to break a vase? When did that become a part of the plan?” 
Minho shrugged. Dr. Henry probably wouldn’t remember the conversation anyways. He was barely listening the whole time. “Nevermind. Come on, I have something to show you.” 
Hyunjin’s brows raised as he followed the older boy down the hallways to the security room. His heart dropped when he spotted the security feed, spotting your tired frame in the video. 
“Wait is she in a straight jacket?” Hyunjin rushed over to the monitor, enlarging the window so he could watch you. You were lying face up, staring at the ceiling, face devoid of all emotion as you did nothing. 
“No please, feel free.” Changbin sounded unamused. “I wasn’t doing anything important.” 
Minho sighed, resting his hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “Give him a break. He’s going through a lot.” Minho pulled Hyunjin away from the monitor, catching the attention of Chan. “He’s also not used to interacting with people.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes and started to retort, but Chan cut him off before he could say anything.  
“Hey, what are you two doing here?” Chan smiled. 
“Come over here Chan,” Minho called him over. “You’ll want to see this.” The boys all crowded around Minho as he pulled out the bloody knife, making everyone gasp. “Christ, what are y’all being dramatic for?” Minho rolled his eyes. “I found this in Dr. Henry’s desk.” Minho caught Hyunjin’s gaze. “Your girl didn’t kill that man.” 
“Dr. Henry did?” Hyunjin’s tongue ran over his chapped lips. “We need more proof. Dr. Douglas isn’t going —” 
“Dr. Douglas isn’t going to find out about this.” Minho cut Hyunjin off. “Dr. Henry is his right-hand man. There’s no way he’s going to believe us.” Minho sighed. “If anything he’ll find a way to blame you for that man’s murder.” 
“Who was he?” Chan fiddled with his thumbs as he asked. Hyunjin could tell that everyone was on edge. They were all involved in a secret that couldn’t be revealed. 
“Charles Johnson,” Changbin answered. “He wasn’t a patient here. We assume he was a visitor, but there’s no one here with the last name Johnson.” 
“He could have been visiting a friend.” Chan shrugged. 
Hyunjin bit his lower lip as his mind raced with endless possibilities. “Or perhaps he got in the way.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself Hyunjin.” Minho set the bloody knife on the table. 
“From what I’ve seen, Dr. Douglas trusts Dr. Henry.” Chan pursed his lips. “Dr. Henry could have this whole hospital under his control and Dr. Douglas wouldn’t even know.” 
“Are you saying that Dr. Douglas has no idea what’s going on?” Hyunjin frowned. “I have a hard time believing that.” 
“I’m not saying anything like that.” Chan’s brows creased. “I’m just pointing out the facts.” Chan picked up the bloody knife and slid it into his pocket. “I’ll take this to the lab and we’ll see if the DNA matches up to Charles Johnson.” 
“How long will that take?” Minho asked as he leaned back against the wall.
“It’ll take around 24-48 hours.” Chan smiled, dimples showing full force as he rested his hand on Hyunjin’s shoulders. “I’ll try to go as fast as I can.” 
Hyunjin smiled sadly, eyes shifting back to your defeated frame on the monitor. “Please do.” 
-----------------------
The next couple of days were complete hell for Hyunjin. Since you were still technically his patient, he couldn’t take on another one. The first day Hyunjin filled prescriptions for 8 hours until he was released to go home. The second day, he decided to pester Minho. Thank goodness Minho was able to get him out of the asylum to walk around the gardens, otherwise, the boy probably would have gone crazy. 
“Hey, look.” Minho pointed to the front desk lady. “She’s fucking Dr. Henry.” 
Hyunjin couldn’t help but snicker. “How do you know this stuff?”
“I happen to know a lot of talkative people.” Minho shrugged. “That and I asked her.” 
“You asked her?” Hyujin giggled as he filed some paperwork. “Didn’t she find that weird?”
“Actually no.” Minho chuckled. “She’s practically fucked everyone but you and me in this damn place.” Minho cringed as he shoved a bunch of papers into a manila envelope. “She thought I was interested in her.” 
Right on queue, Janice sauntered over to Minho leaning against the counter, bright red lips puckered in a pout as she trailed her finger along his jaw. “Hey, baby. I enjoyed our little chat last night.”
“Please don’t touch me.” Minho pushed her hand off him, making Hyunjin snort. 
“Don’t be rude Minho,” Hyunjin smirked at the boy. “You didn’t tell me about your wonderful girlfriend.” 
Minho pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll end you.” Hyunjin threw his head back and laughed. “Seriously, I’ll murder your ass, bury you in the gardens, and dance on your grave.” Minho glared at the boy. 
“Don’t be like that baby.” Janice winked at Minho, making the boy cringe. 
“I’m into men,” Minho stated matter of factly. “I thought you knew that.” 
Janice’s eyes went wide as she gasped. “What? No, you’re not.” 
“Yeah, Hyunjin and I are dating.” Minho wrapped his arm around Hyunjin’s waist and squeezed his ass, making the younger boy burst out in laughter. “He laughs at everything, I’m not sure why.” 
Janice’s eyes shifted around, avoiding their gaze as embarrassment crept in. “I’m so sorry I thought you were straight.” She laughed nervously. “I’ll just leave you to it then.” Janice quickly scurried off, leaving Hyunjin a giggling mess. 
“Oh my God, I can’t believe you did that.” Hyunjin snickered. 
Minho glared at Hyunjin, sending him into another fit of laughter. “I can’t believe you called her my girlfriend.” Minho shivered. “I can’t date someone who’s fucked the entire hospital.” 
“Hey, guys.” Chan strolled into the room, frowning when he saw the two boys giggling amongst all the paperwork. “Okay, I’m curious. What’s up?”
“Oh, I just groped Hyunjin for a solid minute so I could get Janice to fuck off.” Minho shrugged as if that was a normal thing to say. 
Chan chuckled. “Good call.” He paused, pulling the murder weapon out of his pocket, making the boy’s laughter die down. “I have news.” 
Hyunjin grabbed the knife from Chan, sliding the blade into his pocket for safekeeping. “Go ahead. We’re listening.”
“The blood matches Charles Johnson.” Chan paused, trying to find the right words. “Dr. Henry’s fingerprints aren’t on the weapon.” 
“But it was in his office?” Hyunjin’s brows creased. Something about this whole situation didn’t feel right. If the weapon was in Dr. Henry’s office, that meant he set up the murder, right? Was someone else trying to frame Dr. Henry? The man was an asshole, but Hyunjin didn’t feel right accusing him of murder if he didn’t do it. “How did it get in his office then?”
“I have no idea.” Chan sighed. “He doesn’t keep his door locked, so it’s possible that someone was trying to frame him.” Chan shrugged. “Either way, you have enough to release her. Her fingerprints aren’t on the murder weapon.” 
Hyunjin’s eyes brightened instantly. “Really?”
“Don’t accuse Dr. Henry of murder.” Chan lowered his voice. “We have no proof and he’ll just try to pin the murder on you.” 
“I’ll tell him that I found someone slipping that in his office.” Hyunjin smiled. “Thank you.” The younger boy turned to Minho, an excited smile gracing his features. “Come on, let’s go!” Hyunjin’s smile dropped when he saw Minho hesitate, eyes full of uncertainty as he took a step back.
“I can’t.” Minho sighed as he looked down at his feet, avoiding Hyunjin’s gaze. “I’m sorry, but I can’t keep getting wrapped up in this.” 
Hyunjin felt a pang in his chest. “What… What do you mean?”
“Please understand, I have to keep my good reputation here —” 
“It’s fine.” Hyunjin held his hand up, stopping the boy in his tracks. “I get it.” 
Hyunjin stormed out of the room before Minho had a chance to explain further. Of course, he understood. The boy had been working at the Rosewood Psychiatric Institution for years, and if they wanted to break out of that place, they’d need someone on the inside. Still… Hyunjin was kind of hoping Minho would be there with him to expose Dr. Henry for who he really was. 
Hyunjin walked quickly down the hallways, knife in his pocket as he headed to Dr. Henry’s office. His heart dropped in his chest the more he thought about Minho. He knew the boy was still his best friend but… Hyunjin couldn’t shake the thought that he was pushing Minho to do things he didn’t want to do. Maybe the boy was content living in this fucked-up place? Hyunjin never really had a friend before — the last thing he wanted to do was ruin his friendship with Minho. 
He shook his head as he trudged forward. He had to stay focused! Hyunjin stormed into Dr. Henry’s office, slamming the murder weapon on the desk. “I saw someone smuggle this into your office.” Hyunjin panted. “Someone’s trying to frame you for murder.” 
“Are you sure it wasn’t you?” Dr. Henry smirked as he stared into Hyunjin’s eyes. “For all I know, you killed that man.” 
Fuck, he didn’t think this through. 
“Look, her prints aren’t on the weapon. Here’s the report I pulled.” Hyunjin slid over some paperwork, sighing in relief as Dr. Henry looked over the contents on the front page. “We could only identify the DNA from Charles Johnson. We couldn’t find the killer.” Hyunjin sighed, hoping Dr. Henry would be reasonable. “Please release her.”
“You have to get Dr. Douglas’s permission.” Dr. Henry pursed his lips. “I can’t do anything about this.” 
“Yes, you can.” Hyunjin leaned forward, practically begging for the man’s help. “Please sign off on her release.” 
Dr. Henry sighed and signed the papers. “Here. I’ll talk to Dr. Douglas. Just don’t go mentioning this to anyone. I’m not willing to fork out favors to everyone.” 
“Thank you so much.” Hyunjin bowed and snatched the papers, instantly leaving the office. He sprinted down the hall, heading straight for the room you were contained in. Hyunjin rolled his eyes when he spotted the guards lounging outside the door, messing around on their phones instead of watching you. 
“Sir, you aren’t supposed to be here.” One of the guards stood up and hovered in front of Hyunjin, attempting to appear bigger than he was. 
Hyunjin would have laughed at the smaller man if he wasn’t so concerned about getting you out of that room in one piece. “Let me in.” Hyunjin demanded, shoving the signed paperwork into the guard’s hands. “Now.” He leaned forward, using his height to his advantage as he hovered over the smaller guard. 
The guard merely scoffed. “I just said —” 
“Read the damn paperwork.” Hyunjin sighed in frustration as the guard looked over the papers. All he wanted to do was get you out of there — to let you know that you weren’t alone, that he was fighting for you this entire time. 
The guard sighed before opening the door, allowing the ebony-haired man to rush into the room. His breath hitched when his eyes rested upon your frame. You were lying face-up on the floor, face emotionless as you stared up at the ceiling. Hyunjin could see your lips moving as if you were reciting something over and over again to keep your mind off the painfully empty room. 
Hyunjin rushed over to you, soft soothing words escaping his lips as he practically ripped the straight jacket off your body. Your eyes glassed over as Hyunjin helped you stretch out your arms. God, it felt so good to have his gentle hands on you. It had been days since you’ve seen another human being, let alone someone as kind as Hyunjin. 
The boy pulled you into his arms, rocking you slowly as your shaky hands grasped his shirt. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered. You could swear you felt his lips press against the top of your head but… maybe that was just your imagination. “I tried to get you out of here as fast as I could.” 
You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. The words wouldn’t come out, but he must have heard your silent thanks. Hyunjin gently lifted you up, hands guiding your legs to wrap around his waist as he stood up and carried you out of the room. Part of you was happy to see the barren halls. You couldn’t fathom seeing Hyunjin get in trouble for breaking you out of the padded room. 
Hyunjin somehow, after a couple of tries, managed to open the door to your room with his foot. You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the boy’s failed attempts. “Hey don’t laugh at me, I’m trying.” Hyunjin smiled as he carried you to your bed. The ebony-haired boy gently lowered you onto the mattress, hands quickly tucking your blankets around your body. 
“You’re safe now.” Hyunjin’s thumb ran across your cheek. “I won’t let them take you again.” 
You wanted — so badly — to tell him how much you appreciate him, but you couldn’t get the words out of your mouth. You were frozen in your own body, the pain and suffering from the past few days leaving you an empty shell. Your hand darted out, grasping Hyunjin’s wrist, turning the boy’s attention to you. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you pulled his wrist closer, hoping the boy’s body would follow. You needed him. 
Hyunjin’s eyes darted to the door as Chan stepped into the room, ready to take over his morning shift. “I’ll stay with her today.” Hyunjin’s soft voice was oddly soothing to your ears. Chan merely nodded and left, leaving the two of you alone to sort out your feelings. 
Hyunjin crawled in bed with you, sliding underneath the blankets so he could pull you to his chest. “Hey, it’s okay.” His fingertips ran through your hair, the sounds of his steady breathing mixed with his frantic heartbeat helped comfort you as you cried in his chest. “I tried to get you out as soon as I could.” Hyunjin’s arms tightened around you. “We found the murder weapon. We were able to prove that you’re innocent.” 
Your emotions were overwhelming — panic racing through you as you sobbed into Hyunjin’s chest. You thought you’d be stuck there forever. You thought Hyunjin gave up on you and yet — here you are, laying in the man’s arms as he whispered sweet comforting words into your ear. 
“Want to hear something funny?” Hyunjin smiled when you nodded. “Minho was going through Dr. Henry’s desk and figured out that he was sleeping with the receptionist. She came to flirt with him and he told her he was gay.” Hyunjin chuckled. “He told her that I was his boyfriend grabbed my ass to prove a point.” You couldn’t help but snort at the taller boy as you smacked his chest. 
Good. He was able to get you to smile again. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” Hyunjin’s fingertips drew small patterns on your back, the soothing touch making you melt into his embrace. Your hands grasped Hyunjin’s shirt as you adjusted your position, holding him closer to your shivering frame. 
“I feel wrong.” You mumbled against his shirt. “I’m scared.” 
Hyunjin tightened his hold on you, fingers running through your hair as he slowly rocked you back and forth. “It’s okay, love.” His cheek rested against the top of your head. “It’s okay. I’m here now.” 
Hearing those sweet soothing words from Hyunjin made you feel calmer with each passing second. He always found a way to pull through — no matter what the cost. The entire time you were in that room, you thought of him. You longed to hear his voice, feel his touch, but most of all, you wanted his lips against yours. 
Wait… what?
Your hands tightened on his shirt as you gasped, startling the boy beneath you. 
“Are you okay?” Hyunjin’s bright eyes were filled with concern as he checked you over, making sure you weren’t hurt. His eyes widened when he lifted your shirt, spotting several bruises along your ribs. “Oh my God, what did they do to you?”
You pushed his hands away from your body. There was a bigger problem at hand. You loved your caretaker. You can’t love your caretaker! They’ll take him away. Besides… He couldn’t love a crazy person. Hyunjin should be out in the world falling in love with a beautiful, happy, down-to-earth woman… not you. 
God, why were you panicking?
“Hey, hey.” Hyunjin grabbed your arms, steadying you as he looked into your eyes. “What’s going on sweetheart? Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.” 
“I love you!” 
115 notes · View notes
zankivich · 5 years ago
Text
The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 13
Merry Chrismukkah or whatever you celebrate, or just happy Saturday if that’s what floats your boat. Shawn is still dumb. Perhaps dumber. But these are my babies and they deserve the best. Just keep that in mind okay? K bye.
*Shawn’s point of view*
The New Year was a wonderful way for very rich people to throw very elaborate parties to tell people how rich they were. In his early twenties, he’s been roped in by the booze and the women and the occasional party drug or two. Something about twenty-four made him crave the serenity of naps, staying in, and home cooked meals. It could have been the maturity of growing up, sure, but he wasn’t exactly that naive. All he had to do was wake up wrapped around her to know that the only thrill he was going to get was by being with her. Y/n was the least industry, industry person he’d ever met. So, when she told him she had no plans to attend not one even one of the many she’d been invited to, he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. He was happy to stay in. Or so he thought.
They were going to see a movie at this theatre in Manhattan that always showed the upcoming independent films of the year before they ever made it to the indie film festival. He really liked indie films, so y/n bought them tickets for a matinee showing. While y/n was in the shower getting ready his phone began to buzz and he was left without a choice but to answer it for one specific reason. It was his father. Or the Devil. Semantics.
“Yes, dad?” He sighed.
“Your mother is flying in for our annual New Years Eve party. I need you to get her here on time, and make sure she takes the uppers and not the downers this time.”
“Dad, Mom hasn’t been on pills since 2014. Remember the whole rehab thing?” He huffed. “And I’m absolutely not coming to that thing this year.”
“You absolutely the fuck are. The entire senior management team will be here, and I won’t have you make me look bad because you insist on being a child. You’re coming and you’re bringing your mother.”
His hands turned to fists  and he pulled the phone away from his mouth just long enough to curse his father back to hell for once.
“I already have plans, dad!”
“Cancel them! The party starts at nine, I expect you and your mother here by ten at the latest. Put on a suit for Christ’s sake too, none of that skinny jean bullshit.”
His dad hangs up without another world and he collapsed back onto the bed to question how he had managed to be conceived by one of the worst people ever. Really, what were the chances?
“Baby do you wanna do chinese for dinner after the movies?” y/n called from the bathroom.
And that’s when he began to cry.
“Boy, what in the hell is the matter with you now?”
He uncovered his arm from his face to see her standing at the entryway to the bathroom wrapped in a towel and looking as soft as cocoa butter. He really wanted to cry.
“You know the crime shows where the kids kill the parents and you’re like, holy shit that’s fucked up? Well I’m starting to sympathize with ‘em.”
“Sorry, that’s a little too close to white nonsense for me. Why, what happened?”
She stepped over to where he was on the bed and he sat up to fall a little pathetically into her arms. She smelled like flowers and that whole cocoa butter business he was thinking of earlier. Jesus, life was so unfair.
“My dad is making me pick up my mother and go to this stupid fucking new year’s eve party so he can pretend that they haven’t not lived together since before I graduated high school. No options. I’m going.” He reported glumly.
Her fingers were cool from having dried after the shower and she ran them soothingly through his scalp. He nestled himself more firmly against her and tried not to purr too loudly.
“Hmm, well that sucks. I guess there go our plans huh?”
He peered up at her, chin resting against her chest.
“Absolutely not. We’re gonna go see our movie and then we’ll...just go drink my dad’s booze and maybe find a janitor’s closet to fool around in.” He shrugged.
She snorted. “How romantic. I told you I’m not taking my underwear off in a janitor’s closet ever again, Shawn.”
“Who said you had to? I can get creative, baby.” He grinned.
“Of course you can. I think you’re forgetting the part where your dad doesn’t know we’re together.”
“Oh hell, who cares y/n. I’m not going without you. Why would I spend new year’s without my girlfriend?”
“Because...Manny is Satan and would try to ruin my career?”
“Hey, he wouldn’t. Y/n, I swear he wouldn’t do that to you.”
She smiled down at him sadly and scratched at his scalp again.
“I don’t really think you could make that promise, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’m not mad about it. I understand.”
“But I don’t! I want to spend the day with you, not at some dumb party! I had a whole plan about us making love in my bed with the curtains open while the fireworks went on, dammit. I hate him!”
Her chest began to shake and he realized that she was indeed laughing at him. There’s no love in this world.
“This isn’t funny.” He whined.
“It’s a little funny.”
No. Love.
***
“Hmm you look good enough to eat.” She murmured from behind him.
Her arms came to wrap around his waist and she reached up on the tips of her toes to rest her chin on his shoulder as he adjusted his suit. He could not have been less excited.
“Good enough to eat, not good enough to keep me home, aye?”
She rolled her eyes. “You are about as dramatic as they come you know that? I’m trying to keep the peace. Now you just make sure nobody touches what’s mine and you bring your ass home right after that ball drops.”
He turned in her grasp, pulling her more tightly against him. She was in nothing but his sweatshirt and a pair of underwear that surely would make him drool if he stared long enough. He loved her.
“What was it again that’s yours? I just wanna make sure I have all my bases covered when I inevitably get hit on.” He smirked.
She reached quickly for his jaw and tugged him forward so she could kiss him with dominance and love. Why in the entire hell was he going to this party?
“All of it.” She whispered eyes lifting up and down to drink him in. “You call me if you need a reminder.”
He nodded dumbly, lips parted and ready to drool.
“Yea. Okay.”
Leaving her is nearly impossible, especially knowing that he won’t have an ounce of fun the rest of the night. His mum is half way to sloppy drunk by the time he arrives to pick her up and the party's at stifling capacity by the time they arrive. But as long as his dad is happy that’s apparently all that matters. It’s all that ever matters.
“Look you just stand against this wall and I’ll go get you something with bubbles in it.”
His mum only giggled and leaned harder against the wall.
“Okay!”
He goes to the bar and gets her some cranberry juice mixed with soda water. She was drunk enough that it wouldn’t matter, and he was hopeful that by the end of the night she might sober enough for him to get her back to her hotel without incident. By the time he returns from the bar, he sees his dad wrapping his arm possessively around his mother. He starts talking to some old guy in a hat that isn’t doing enough to cover his balding head, and it’s about as sickening as can be. The worst part is that his mum completely plays into it. Her head rests on his shoulder. Her fingers play with his hair. They play the happy couple so well, it almost has him fooled. Almost.
There used to be a day when he would have tried to defend her honor, a day when he thought he was strong enough to fight his dad. He’d gotten knocked on his ass enough times to know that was simply not the case. And that’s how he ended up hiding in a corner with a double scotch texting his girlfriend while everyone around him looked like complete and total jackasses.
Shawn: I miss you. This is dumb. My dad is literally the worst.
y/n: You are so cute when you complain like a sixteen year old.
Shawn: I am delicate, y/n. You cannot be mean to me in my current state.
y/n: You poor, poor thing. What can I do to make it better?
Shawn: Rescue me?
y/n: We’ll see. Go place nice with the fragile men who never lived up their father’s visions for them.
Shawn: I think I’d rather die.
The party really is dead. It’s all the people who kiss his dad’s ass on a daily basis. Most of them were in their fifties or older. It wasn’t even the artists themselves, just the people who made money off of them. If he didn’t know any better he’d say it was his dad’s way of fundraising for investors. And he definitely knew better.
He’s sitting at the bar counting down the minutes until he gets to go home. It’s maybe thirty minutes until the ball drops, and everyone around him is hammered to pieces. He hasn’t seen his dad since he got there, and his mum was probably being dragged around by that asshole as nothing more than a trophy piece. God he wanted to go home. And then the elevator doors opened.
She’s wearing the dress that he bought her after he accidently ripped the other one. It’s black and sleek with a thigh slit that has his lips parting even now. Her hair is tied sleekly up in a bun and the second she steps into the room the entire atmosphere shifts. She’s gorgeous. Every inch of her. They lock eyes from across the room and he just knows that he’s beaming, couldn’t stop it even if he wanted. She’s here for him and no one else, and that means the world to him. She means the world to him.
He orders her her go-to drink and goes to find his girlfriend only to find that she’s already been stopped. It’s one of the guys from his dad’s team. He’s on the younger side, maybe in his early thirties, probably drives an eco friendly car or something. He’s dumb is the point. Dumb. And ugly. And stupid. And talking to his girlfriend.
“You look beautiful tonight. I didn’t expect to see you here. You and Manny don’t really get along.”
She giggled. Why was she giggling?
“That’s certainly one way to put it. But a good old-fashioned rivalry never hurt anyone, did it? Especially not when I win.” She grinned.
“You know…I find that kind of confidence in a woman to be incredibly sexy.”
Her eyes widened and he leaned in to place a hand on her waist. He made sure to step between them before it got that far.
“Vodka cran right?” He interjected pulling her not so subtly against him.
She rolled her eyes but smiled up at him.
“Yes, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Who are you chatting with?”
“Shawn it’s Mike. We--We work together?”
He placed his hand on her lower back barely sparing him a glance as he led her away.
“Oh yea. Enjoy the party Mike!”
“You are not subtle in the slightest you know that?” She laughed.
“Yea, whatever. Only person who get’s to call my baby sexy is me, dammit.”
“I find your possessiveness to be both sexist and oddly stimulating. I will combat my feminist guide and get back to you.”
He snorted. “While you’re at it can you ask the feminist guide what it has to say about your whole, ‘it’s all mine’, shtick?”
“Hmm...you may have a point.”
He leads her onto the dance floor. Dancing is innocent. It can mean anything, and isn’t inherently tied to being in a relationship, so it acts as a safe space for the two of them. The party was too large for him to place eyes on his dad, so he had to just believe that they could occupy space together and be okay. No kissing. No waist touching. Certainly no ass touching. He really had to just hold onto his drink and soak her in. The good news is that soaking her in is better than not having her there at all. So he holds tight to the idea that he could have her there with him.
“You came here for me.” He murmured in her ear. “Why?”
She shrugs her shoulders and shimmies her hips to the beat of a Khalid song, ironically.
“You asked me to.”
“I know but...what about my dad?”
“Your dad is...always going to exist. No matter how long we’re together. If I let him stop me from enjoying New Year’s with you than I’m giving him power over our relationship. He doesn’t get to have that. Only we have that.”
It’s another one of those moments where if he looked back on his life, he could have identified it as a shift in their dynamic. This was y/n pulling down the final brick in the wall. She had chosen him fully and irrevocably in such a way that she was willing to go all in. His dad no longer matter mattered. Nothing really seemed to matter. Because they loved each other, and as long as they loved each other everything else would work out at some point. He had always been hers, but now he got to be her’s in broad daylight. Well, kind of.
They find a corner to shove themselves into away from the crowd. She crosses her legs and shows off more thigh than anyone has the right too, which reminds him that he hasn’t kissed her in hours. And so he sneaks a kiss on her cheek and hides his face in her neck, because he just wants to go home. He really wants to go home.
“I can’t touch you here.” He mumbled. “This is basically my own version of hell.”
She sighed. “Yea, I know. Usually your horniness is excessive, but this party is drier than Milania Trump’s pussy. Sheesh.”
He laughs because she’s funny and it makes him feel lighter, happier. He still doesn’t know how she does it.
“My dad is somewhere showing my mum off like she’s a thing and not a person. To him everything is a commodity, something for him to own and do with what he pleases.” He mumbled reaching for her hand. “I just want you to know that you could never be that for me. I would never, ever treat you like that.”
She smiled softly at him.
“I know. You’ve never treated me with anything but kindness, Shawn. You’re not your dad.”
He nodded. “See I know that, and yet still it feels good to be reminded sometimes.”
“You just let me know whenever you need reminding then.”
“Mkay. I will.”
“Shawn.”
The two of them looked up as his father ascended with his mother hanging onto him, eyes barely open. Y/n moved as far away from him as physically possible. He had to hide his face to pretend it didn’t hurt. It did hurt.
“What now?” He grumbled.
“Your mother is incompacitated. Take her home. Now.”
He stands up immediately, y/n remaining seated in her chair. She played coy incredibly well, bringing her drink to her lips and settling back deeper into her chair.
“Y/n,” Manny dipped his head. “So glad you could make it to our little suarey. Are you enjoying yourself?”
She smiled. “You know I was. I think I enjoyed myself so much that I’m gonna have to take a very long nap to deal with all the excitement.”
He catches the thinly veiled anger on his father’s face at Y/n taking the piss out of him as he reaches for his mum. She was in worse condition than he left her in, her eyes barely remaining open.
“Jesus, dad what did you do to her?” He hissed.
“She’s a grown ass woman fully capable of making her own decisions. Now get her out of here before she embarasses me further.”
“I do really enjoy the playful family banter. It’s sweet.” Y/n interjected. “And not incredibly cliche at all.”
He looked at her with pleading eyes to not make his father any angrier than he already was. If the look on his face was anything to go off though, his father wasn’t ever going to be happy when y/n was present. Manny sent y/n a scathing look before grumbling off to be with the rest of the crowd. His mum on the other hand was practically snoring on his shoulder. He hated the holidays.
“Looks like I’m gonna miss the ball drop. I gotta get her home.” He sighed.
“It’s okay. We can ring in the new year when you get back, okay?”
“Promise?”
She smiled up at him. “Promise.”
“K. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Neither of them noticed Manny watching them from the bar. Nor had they noticed the way he had watched them the entire night. In fact as Shawn was pulling his mother towards the elevator, Manny was calling for the party planner for the event that night.
“Can you look up a name on the guest list for me?” He asked.
“Of course, sir.”
“y/f/n y/l/n. She on there?”
The party planner flicked through the list twice before shaking her head at Manny.
“No sir, I never sent any invitation to a y/f/n y/l/n.”
Manny looked back over at the couch where y/n and Shawn had been sitting. She was already gone.
“Yea, that’s what I thought.”
***
*y/n’s point of view*
The fact that Shawn becomes a regular at Lenny’s Tavern is only a testament to his love for music. He went every Friday it seemed, to the point where he turned out to be a celebrity of the pub. It was his place of joy. You never saw him smile harder then when he was up there with a guitar in his hands. It was a blend of covers and originals, and when he’s up there getting the entire crowd to scream sing “Hit Me Baby One More Time”, you know that there’s something special there. He knows how to command a room, at first with his presence, but now with his talent. Something that could take years to teach an artist, Shawn was sitting there with it by the boatload. And so every night is a little bittersweet, because you know Manny and you know if he has his way Shawn will never get anything more. But, the smile on his face every time he asks you to go is enough to have you taking the forty minute drive out the city on Fridays.
He jumps down from the stage to ravenous applause. The smile and the light in his eye is exceptional. You watch him get stopped by a few women, an increasing occurrence at Lenny’s Tavern, who asked to take a selfie with him. The smile that he puts on for them is more calculated, more mass sex appeal. Honestly, he was a music exec’s wet dream. And not because he’s good at it, but because he does it with this sort of authentic happiness that no amount of money can buy. He’s just got it.
“Did you like it babe? I tried the falsetto on the ‘suit and tie’ cover just like you said.” He beamed at you.
You wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed his nose.
“You sounded amazing. Just like you always do. My baby’s kind of a star.” You grinned.
“Yea, only because of you. Can you imagine my life if you’d been my manager instead of my dick of a dad?”
“You’d be wildly sucessful for sure...But I don’t fuck my clients so…”
He frowned. “Then let’s just stick with this reality, aye?”
“Sounds good to me. Let’s go get me a drink.”
He trailed you to the bar, his hands playfully on your ass and hips. His unwillingness to quit touching you was much appreciated in just about every instance of your lives together. Why go through life not being touched by your significant other? It just didn’t make sense.
“Hey Shawn!” Ronnie, the owner of the bar, called.
“Hey Ronnie, man, what’d you think of the set?”
“It was amazing! You’re always amazing, you pretty bastard, and you know it.”
You peered up at your boyfriend as you took a sip of your drink. His cheekbones were more sculpted than yours and perfectly flushed. His curls were like the swirl of an ice cream cone off pinterest. The fucker really was pretty. Rude.
“Hey, it’s just an honor to get up there man.”
“Really? Cause see I had one of my buddies from Atlantic come see your set and he asked me to give you his card, but if it’s all about the honor then…”
“What?!” Shawn and you screeched in unison.
Ronnie stared at the two of you with a big grin on his face.
“Yea! Same way I got our little Niall to where he’s at. When the sets are good, they come to check out the talent man. And you’re better than good. Here.”
Shawn took the card and stared down at it. You could see the fear, but also the light in his eyes. It was about as tragic as can be.
“No man, I--I can’t take this.” He mumbled handing the card back to Ronnie.
Ronnie refused it.
“Keep it. You deserve it man!” He exclaimed before walking away.
Shawn turned to you with wide eyes and a terrified look on his face that had you reaching to wrap his giant frame up in your arms.
“It’s okay. Hey, don’t stress yourself out. Just don’t call the number.”
“But my dad does so much work with Atlantic. Like five of his artists are co-signed through them. What if he finds out somehow?”
You shook your head. “He won’t cause you’re not going to call...unless that’s what you want.”
“Huh?”
You ran your hands up his arms and over his shoulders trying to quell some of the tension.
“Look I’m just saying that, yea you signed with your dad when you were fifteen but that contract expired the moment you became an adult. That’s probably why he asked you to work for the company the moment you turned eighteen, so that he could retain this hold he has over you.”
He frowned at you. “But...but my music.”
“I know baby. You made a lot of music that means a lot to you, and I want nothing more than for you to have ownice of it. All I’m saying is that if you can’t get the music back, that doesn’t mean you can never create again. It doesn’t even mean you can’t make music for a living. Any label would kill to sign you. I know because I’d be right there fighting with ‘em.”
He released this big breath, face twitching with anxiety. You could tell it was getting to him, that the moment was becoming too much. You didn’t really know how to ease him into it anymore than you already had.
“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. I wanna go home.”  He mumbled, face red.
“Okay, I can be okay with that. Let’s go home.”
“Can we go to your place?” He asked head dipping down closer to yours.
You smiled. “Of course.”
***
*Shawn’s point of view*
Everything makes sense when they’re making love. It’s something about the way she tastes, or maybe is the vibrations of her moans against his mouth when he kisses her throat. His head is never more clear than when she’s in his arms. He loves her. God does he love her. He wants her to have everything, all of him, infinitely. So that’s what she gets.
“Fuck! Oh my god!” She sobbed.
“You gonna cum for me?” He asks reaching to stroke her clit with his thumb.
She nodded recklessly her stomach tensing, thighs trembling.
“Please. Shawn, I need it so bad.”
He flips her onto her back, hand wrapping around the top of her head for leverage as he lays into her. Her body shakes for him and she claws at his back so hard there will be welts later. But it’s her pleasure. It’s the only thing in the world that matters to him when they’re in this space together. So he keeps moving, keeps moaning, keeps holding on for every second that he can if it means she’ll stare at him like he just blew her mind. He always wants to blow her mind. And she bursts for him like an overripe fruit in the summer heat, and he makes sure that he’s right there to slurp it up for her.
“I love you.” He groaned into her ear. “I love you so much.”
The doorbell ringing is literally the last thing in the world that he wants to hear. She’s still panting against his neck and he’s just supposed to get out of bed?
“Let it ring.” She mumbled lips tracing his nipple.
“Oh. My. God, woman.”
She giggled and the result was something so cute and soft on her face that he could feel his exhausted body peak in interest. The line between whether to dominate and whether to cuddle  deeply into the sheets got more blurred by the second with her.
The doorbell rings again.
“Jesus Christ.” He muttered.
“Fuck...look just go answer it. I have to get ready for work soon anyway.”
He immediately began to pout.
“But baby...I didn’t finish my moves.” He whined.
She snorted. “You finished just fine for me, dear. Go get the door.”
He does what she asks. But not without whining the entire time dammit. She puts on his Jimi Hendrix t-shirt and walks off to his kitchen without underwear or a bra. Whoever was at the door probably deserved to die. He didn’t make the rules.
“This better be good!”
He yanked open the door to see his dad standing there with two starbucks cups in his hands and the grin of Satan.
“Dad.” He mumbled. “What--what the hell are you doing here?”
“It’s time to talk to son.” He smiled making his way past him to get into his apartment.
Oh for fuck’s sake.
“Look now really isn’t the time!”
“On the contrary, I don’t think there could be a better time. Ah! Good morning y/n!”
Sure enough there she stood in the middle of the room where the living room met the kitchen with a pan in her hand and the fear of god in her eyes.
“Y/n my...dad is here.” He stated glumly.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’d managed to catch on, Shawn.”
“As much as I do enjoy watching the two of you prance around with no pants on, I think it’s time to get dressed. Shawn and I have some things to discuss. Take your time. I’ll wait.”
The room is dead silent. Y/n is looking at him like she’s contemplating hitting his dad over the head with the pan. Honestly, it’s not the worst visual he could come up with. Instead they walk side by side back to his bedroom. His hands are shaking and he tugs anxiously at his hair as he watches her get dressed. It’s impossible for him to wrap his head around this moment. Ten minutes ago they were making love, and now his dad knows about them. Just like that.
She tugs her shoes on and reaches for her keys and his heart spasms painfully in his chest. He’s got no choice but to reach for her.
“Hey,” He whispered hands still shaking as he gripped her waist. “I--I don’t know what’s going on right now. I’m freaking out y/n.”
She nodded. “Me too. It’s gonna be okay though. Just come to my place when it’s over. Whatever it is, we can work through it, y’know? That’s what we do.”
“I love you. More than anything. You know that right?”
She smiled at him sadly and ran her fingers through his hair to scratch at his scalp. It was the most calming gesture he could think of.
“I know. And I love you too. It’ll be okay. I wish I could be here with you in this, I do. But we’ll figure it out. I promise.”
He nodded solemnly letting his shoulders drop as she released him.
“Yea, okay.”
The last image he gets of her is when she walks through his front door without looking back. Her head was high, shoulders back, a lot like the first night he met her. Only now he knew better. Now he knew it was a part of her no doubt, but a constructed one too. With the presence of his dad, she suddenly needed to be a version of herself that no one could touch. Not even him. And so the last good image he gets of her is a version of her that’s not his, not hers. It exists outside of everything that they’ve become together in the months of their love. It’s a protective shell put up to hide. That’s the last image he gets.
***
*y/n’s point of view*
He doesn’t come over. And he doesn’t call. At first you thought maybe something happened. Maybe Manny shipped him off to Novasokia or some shit. But a woman left to sit in her apartment for hours can only come up with so much. By the time it was dark out, you got the feeling that he wasn’t coming over. All your text messages and calls had gone unanswered. You worried sick, and sad as all hell. You skipped work to wait around for him, and then couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but lie there all day. So when he doesn’t show up it’s a day wasted. And when you wake up the next morning to nothing? Not a facetime, an emoji, not even a fuck off? Your heart just sort of breaks.
“Hi, uh. I don’t really know what’s going on. And I don’t know what he could have said to you to make you not come over but...I’m scared, Shawn. I--I miss you. And I just want to know that you’re okay. Please call me. Bye.”
You showed up to work an absolute nervous wreck. It had taken you all morning to convince yourself not to go over to Shawns’ apartment. If he really didn't want to see you, then you probably owed that to him. The rational part of you was trying to come up with a solution. So, you convinced yourself that Shawn must’ve gotten into a really terrible fight with his dad and he had gone off somewhere to play music and blow off steam. It wasn’t the craziest scenario. In the time that you’d known him, Shawn had definitely fled the world to hide in a room somewhere with his guitar. This was just the first time, he’d shut you out too.
You walked onto the floor of your office and Tiana was waiting there with a hot tea for you and a very sad, anxious look on her face. It just so happened that you didn’t have the emotional capacity to deal with anyone else at the moment.
“Hey Ti,” You mumbled. “I just need the day okay? I’m gonna go work on some stuff, but I really don’t want to be bothered.”
“I know sis but… you’ve got a visitor.”
Your eyes widened and quickly moved to get to your office.
“Is it Shawn? Did he say anything to you?”
“Y/n it’s not Shawn!” She called after you. “It’s Manny.”
You froze where you stood peering at your office door with confusion.
“What?”
“He was already here when I got here. He said that he had something to tell you, and that you’d be interested in hearing from him.” She explained. “But, I can kick him out if you want. I--I didn’t know!”
You swallowed and turned back to your friend.
“No uh, it’s okay. I’ll just...I’ll go in there.”
There’s a moment where you stood outside your office and took a huge breath. The truth of the matter was Manny had scared you for years. In the midst of your come up in the industry there were plenty of men who didn’t like you. Didn’t like your ideas, didn’t like your success, didn’t like your unwillingness to bow down to them. That you’d grown used to. But Manny seemed to feel all of those things at a level that no one else did. And while plenty of men would be happy to see your down fall not too many of them would actively participate in making it happen. You had known from the day you met him that Manny was the guy who would.
Falling for Shawn hadn’t gotten rid of the fear, but what it had done was shift your priorities. Whatever was on the other side of that door needed to happen, because you needed Shawn in your life. You loved him too much to be without him, and he loved you too much too. You knew that. You had to believe those two facts or none of it mattered. So you schooled your face into the mask that you’d created long before that day, and you walked into your office to meet it head on. Because there were no other options.
“Manny, I wasn’t sure if you knew where our office was located.” You smiled upon entering the room. “I always figured it was too urban of a space for you, not enough upper east side, ya know.”
He sat on the edge of your desk a lot like Shawn had the first time he’d been there. If there was anything to be said about the resemblance of the too, it was that Shawn did look a lot like his father.
“Well you’re right about that, y/n. I don’t exactly slum it unless I have too. I figured today was a good enough occasion.”
And subtle racist remarks all before ten am. This ought to be a treat.
“What do you want, Manny?”
You sat down at your desk and of course he immediately stood up so that he could tower over you. Men. So incredibly predictable.
“It’s over y/n.”
You rolled your eyes at the dramatics.
“And do tell, what exactly is over Manny?”
“Whatever hold you had on my son. It’s done with.”
“Ahhh. That’s what this is about. You’re upset that he started thinking for himself, and that his hands were no longer glued to your ass. I’m sorry but that has nothing to do with me. He’s a grown man; he thinks for himself.”
Manny stuffed his hands in his pockets and began to walk around the room. In retrospect Shawn was just about as dramatic as his father, just less evil.
“I should’ve known when it first started that you’d dig your claws into him. His rush to get me to introduce you two. The sudden trips to Rome on my jet, of course. The push back at work. His disappearing all the time.” He sighed. “I just thought angry pussy was better pussy or something.”
Your anger gets the best of you and a break appears in the mask.
“Excuse me?”
“Well you two really just weren’t subtle at all now were you? Which was fine at first. I’m sure you’re perfectly fine in the sack y/n, but it’s not like he’d ever marry you into the family. But then you started putting your nose where it didn’t fucking belong. That stint at the pub where we found Niall. Did you really think I wasn’t going to hear about that?”
You were absolutely rattled inside, varying on disgust and rage alongside a kind of fear you hadn’t experienced in years. But you couldn’t let it show. You’d rather die than let it show.
“He’s talented. He’s the best I’ve seen in years and I’ve got three of this years top artists under my belt. To block that? To keep him hidden because of your own inadequacies? That’s pathetic and you know it.”
Manny chuckled. “Your generation is so incredibly naive. That’s business, honey. Shawn can do more for me outside of the spotlight than he can inside it. It’s as simple as that.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake. You old wrinkly white men and your archaic understanding of the world. That’s not business, that’s greed. That relentless, self-indulging, disgusting greed you sad, sad little man.”
The smile on Manny’s face dropped as well as the temperature in the room. You were without a doubt one of the only people in his life to challenge him. He didn’t like it at all.
“And what about what he wants? Doesn’t that matter at all?” You asked. “Doesn’t anything but your own self-interest matter to you at all?”
“Not even in the slightest. But it’s okay now. I’ve shifted my narrative in part because of you. So I thank you for that.”
“Jesus Christ you know you sound like a villain straight out of a Spy Kids movie, like at all times? Will you just get to the fucking point?”
“I’m gonna give Shawn his masters back.”
You paused. “What?”
“Yep. All two hundred songs. There his. He can do with them what he pleases. He’ll resign a contract with me of course, and I’ll give him the career he always wanted. He’ll realize that he’s nothing without me. And everyone lives happily ever after.”
“I’m just supposed to believe that a plan you cooked up when he was fifteen years old is over now? Just like that? What’s the catch here?”
Manny snapped his fingers and moved closer to you.
“Oh that’s right. My apologies. The catch is that he has to break up with you.”
At this your stomach and your heart and everything in between just dropped.
“What?”
“You heard me. Shawn can have everything that he’s ever wanted, every song he’s ever written, just as long as you’re not in the picture.” He smiled. “I know my son, y/n. And he will pick correctly and you will be but an unpleasant memory.”
It just ripped you to shreds. It was the culmination of everything that you knew about Shawn, and everything that you loved about him, being exactly the thing to take him from you. And it hurt. You were left utterly defenseless as if he’d ripped your carefully crafted mask right from your face. Your eyes watered, your throated tightened. This was it. This was the end. Manny had banked on your willingness to know Shawn, which meant he knew that you loved him. And perhaps that’s the part that hurts the most. That someone could take the goodness of your heart and use it against you in such a malicious way.
“Why...why would you do this?” You asked.
And he shrugged at you.
“I like to win y/n. And I always win. This time will be no different. And I’ll make sure of it.”
He left the room just as the tears spilled over your cheeks. Because in order for Manny to win, someone would have to lose. He had made sure that only one person would come out of this scathed. You lost.
***
Seeing him on the other side of your door makes the gaping hole where your heart used to be throb. His curls are wilder than ever. There are bags beneath his eyes that are unlike anything you’d ever seen. He looked exhausted and sad and really beautiful even then. When he sees you he pulls up a smile that is so pathetic it hurts. But, it’s honest. It’s him giving all of himself to you, even when there’s damn near nothing left. To look at him now was to be in pain. And so you had to remind yourself that preservation was a Black woman’s armor. It was all you had left.
He smiled sadly as you leaned against your door not inviting him inside.
“Hi.” He whispered waving in his favorite clappy hand like motion that usually made you smile.
Not today.
“Hi.”
“I can explain. And I am so, so sorry that I disappeared but--”
“There’s no need.” You interrupted.
He shook his head. “No, y/n, I swear to you that I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just needed time. I needed to clear my head and my fucking dad he--”
“I know. Shawn I know.” You mumbled. “He came to my office.”
Shawn’s eyes widened.
“He did what? What did he say to you?”
He reached for you and you stepped further behind the door causing Shawn to pause and stare at you. His face began to shift just as the puzzle pieces slid into place. As your lip trembled he raised his hands up in the air in a motion of defenselessness, as if he was waiting for you to spook and disappear at any moment. If only he knew.
“Y/n what’s going on?” He whispered, eyes wide open and scared. “Why won’t you let me touch you? W--Why can’t we go inside?”
You closed your eyes and breathed but it was pointless. The tears came in abundance now. His hand touched your cheek and you wished that it didn’t soothe you. Wouldn’t this all be easier if he didn’t soothe you so well.
“It’s over, Shawn.”
“What?” He mumbled, completely frozen into place. “What?”
You swallowed.
“It has to end. You and me, we’re done.”
“What are you talking about right now? Are you kidding me?” He sputtered. “I--love you. I love you with everything that I am, how could you say that to me?”  
You shake your head to try and dispel some of the sadness with the hopes that you could even get through this whole. The problem was you already felt yourself splintering, and the more room you gave him to fight, the more damaged the both of you would be.
“I’m sorry, but that doesn’t matter right now.”
You can tell by the look on his face that you’re crushing him. This fact only ruins you further, only make the pain sizzle deep in your gut. You’ve got nothing left to give. You’ve gotta give it all to him so that he can go on and be okay.  It’s for the best. It has to be.
“It does matter?! I love you! And you love me. And it doesn’t matter? Why are you doing this?!”
“Because  it...it’s the only way to give you everything you’ve always wanted. And I love you enough to give you that. Goodbye Shawn.”
“Y/n, wait can’t we please just--”
You close the door in his face. Everything is blurry around the edges. You sink down to the floor and cover your ears as if it might cover the sounds of him pounding on your door. The two of you cry and sob for the other. You knows there’s no fixing this. It’s done.
***
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dreadnought-dear-captain · 5 years ago
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Happy (Slightly Belated) Birthday, Baghdad Waltz!
*CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR BAGHDAD WALTZ UP TO CHAPTER 37*
I know these are stressful times right now, but I wanted to post a little something for BW’s third birthday on 3/13/2020 (and I’m a little late because I had a lot to say). THREE!! I cannot believe it. Truly, I cannot, but here we are. I know there are still a few stragglers hanging around from when I first started posting this story (extra hearts to you all), so many people who have come and gone and sometimes return again, and so many new people joining this crazy journey all the time. 
You are all so great, and you make it possible for me to keep writing this. I probably would have quit a long time ago without your support, because this shit has been quite hard to sustain sometimes. I know I am very bad at keeping up with comments and things, and I’m so sorry.  I am terrible with social media, too. People IRL will say the same thing about me. I am super old school and still talk on the phone with my friends. I KNOW. 
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(Heyyyy Bayside High)
I’ve prepared a couple of things for BW’s birthday. First, a few statistics I thought I’d whip up. Then a few questions and answers about BW, both from myself and from my beloved beta, @pitchforkcentral86​. And I’m still trucking away diligently at chapter 38! I just have a few scenes to go. 
 -- BW Statistics -- 
---------------------------------------------
Words to date: 526,011
Chapters to date: 37
Shortest chapter: 3,821 words (Prologue)
Longest chapter: 31,395 words (Chapter 33)
Number of words per chapter: 12,530 (median), 14,257 (average) (note: the median is probably a better measure, since this is such an abnormal distribution - see below for the changes in chapter length over time)
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Estimated total work to date: 2,890-3,120 hours (approx 18-20 hours/week). This includes writing, rewriting, editing, research, conversations with beta, outlining, and a small portion of the brainstorming. This is a conservative estimate and only includes a fraction of the ambient thinking I do about this story. And God, I do so much processing when I sleep! Perhaps I will be a BW “expert” -- estimated at around 10,000 hours I guess? -- by the time I am done with the story and all my revisions hahahahaaaaaa D: 
Money spent to date (estimated): $600-700. This includes books on various subject matter and writing craft, video access to therapy education resources, and other educational materials. This does not include the incalculable sum in lost productivity from thinking about BW when I’m supposed to be doing other things!
Most of you probably don’t know this, but @pitchforkcentral86​ is not just a beta reader. She is my partner in crime with BW. She knows my characters as well as I do, sometimes better. She helps me troubleshoot scenes, she tells me when my writing sucks, when my I’m not being true to my characters, when I’m not being real enough (sometimes when I’m being TOO real). She gives me porn inspiration and listens to me bitch and calls my bullshit and makes this story what it is. I really mean it - this story would not be nearly as good without her, and you can see how much better it gets once she starts to get involved around chapter 17. 
So I decided I would answer some silly little questions about BW. Just my own personal opinions about stuff! And asked @pitchforkcentral86​ to contribute as well. See below. 
What are my favorite scenes in BW and why? 
In no particular order: 
The 9/11 memory (Chapter 26): When Steve is in therapy with Hope remembering when Bucky returns from Ground Zero. This was one of the first times I experimented with writing in a sort of stream-of-consciousness way (though certainly not the last!). I have done several tweaks to it since the original version, texturing it more. It’s so rich in detail, visceral detail, little details about their relationship, pieces of Bucky’s past, clues about his alcoholism, the way he handles stress, his difficulties letting Steve in, the love Steve has for him, Bucky’s need to be loved and cared for and his aversion for it, it’s so, so rich. Gah. I love it. (GUH and @buckydunpun​’s ART - just murder me. Thanks.)
The Thor “breakup” scene (Chapter 28): This is the moment I think that many people realized Bucky is not a reliable narrator. Maybe they suspected it before, but this is when it’s very obviously apparent. His entire interpretation of his relationship with Thor is thrown into question. He built a rich fantasy about what they were, holding hands in the grass, all this bullshit, and he could actually say they were boyfriends, which makes complete sense because there were never any stakes. It was always surface. There was never any intimacy except as veteran/soldier friends who had sex, which is about as deep as Bucky can go anyway without getting utterly terrified. 
This is in such stark contrast to Steve, where there is actual intimacy, ongoing demand for more intimacy, and this relationship feels VERY real to Bucky, and it’s very frightening to him. And that’s why he runs from the term “boyfriend” with Steve. It’s all so real. It’s easy to engage with a fake boyfriend. But still, he didn’t deliberately realize he was doing this, so it was devastating to find out the truth of his own self-deception. And to hear that he’s not the kind of guy you settle with, he’s the guy you fuck… wow. But how can you really hate Thor? (I’m sure some of you can but…) He’s a nice guy. Even Bucky knows it. So he’s run from something good and real (Steve) to something good but false (Thor) and then he gets rejected from both. It’s horrible and so self-defeating and so quintessentially Bucky. I love it. 
A Close Second (Spent Brass fic): This whole side fic came together like a glorious dream. I love everything about it. It’s such a wonderful look into their relationship, into their dynamics, into their individual personalities, their idiosyncrasies, so much push-pull between them. Whispers of things that have happened to Bucky in the past, a lack of understanding from Steve, a desire to know, so much affection. Some good sex. I love this SB. But I love all the Spent Brass fics. They are so close to my heart. 
Honorable mention: Bucky’s masturbation scene during his bender (Chapter 32). I had an absolute BLAST writing this. Thanks to @pitchforkcentral86​ for proposing that Bucky’s core sexual/romantic desire is just to be kissed. Dayum. It all unfolded from there. 
Who is the character I think about the most? Bucky. I think because he’s got the most complex history and the most complicated psychology. He’s actually fairly rule-bound in terms of how he operates, but he’s got a lot of back story that explains how he became the way he is, and I spend a lot of time considering what happened to him and how he developed his self-image, his coping strategies, and his ideas about others and the world. I think a lot about his relationship with his parents. I think a LOT about bby Jamie. It’s not because Steve is not important or any less complex. But Bucky’s childhood experiences have shaped him in very specific ways, and I want to make sure that I represent them very thoughtfully. 
Who is my favorite character to write? Bucky. His voice and thought processes come to me more easily than Steve’s. Perhaps in part because of my personal penchant for the word “fuck.” I love writing his perspective, his preferences, his interpretations of situations. I love imagining the way he imagines the world. 
Who is my favorite supporting character? Winnie. I know she’s a very polarizing character, but I have so much affection for her. I think she’s a badass. She joined the military as a female officer back in the 1970s, which is incredible and rough. She kept her maiden name. This is a Southern conservative woman, an Air Force brat, raised by very conservative Southern people in a very conservative Pentecostal church, but she has always had an irrepressible rebellious, feminist badass streak in her even before she knew what feminism was. She might not even define herself as a feminist now. She has always done the best she can under very difficult circumstances, and she loves her kids, even though she sometimes sucks quite badly at mothering them. I love her for her imperfections. 
Favorite topic to research this year: I’ve been really enjoying researching emotionally focused couples therapy, which was developed by Sue Johnson, EdD. I’ve been watching therapy videos of couples going through this and having a wonderful time imaging Bucky and Steve going through something similar with Claire. I don’t think Claire is the strictest adherent to EFT, but I think she’s informed by it. It’s tough, because I’m very used to cognitive behavioral type therapies, so this one has been different to think about writing. I’ve also been really getting into reading about childhood sexual abuse and its effects on boys and men. It’s greatly helped my conceptualization of Bucky and Bucky and Steve’s relationship. I mean, it’s a grim topic, but there have been some fascinating threads in terms of understanding one’s self perception of sexual orientation, etc. and thinking about how Bucky would consider and contextualize his experiences. 
Am I more of a Steve or a Bucky? Hmm. I don’t strongly relate to either, but I think if I had to choose, I’m a bit more of a Steve. I’m pretty expressive of my affection and positive emotions, and I’ll complain about daily life things enough. However, when it comes to major life events that really bother me, I tend to err on the side of not processing them and turning my feelings into headaches and other physical afflictions. In other words, I’m a suppressor of major emotions and events. It’s FINE. I’m FINE. Nothing to see here. But I am definitely not as tidy as Steve, nor as smart, and definitely not as buff or hot. So that’s where most of our similarities end lol. I do eat a lot of tofu though. 
Who would I want to hang out with for a day? I initially thought Rikki, but like @pitchforkcentral86​, think she’s actually too cool and smart for me, and I would probably just make an ass out of myself. I think probably Elektra. I know, this is a left field answer, but it’s one day! To do whatever with anyone! I want to choose someone who’s going to make it worth my while. So many of the characters are either too busy, too rigid, too anxious, too conventional, etc. I would want to run around NYC with Elektra for the day and have drinks with her and Matt afterwards at some weird-ass underground bar. My more infield answer would probably be Hank. I want him to tell me gay stories about gay things. I want to see his apartment. I want to drink coffee with him. I want him to tell me about what the AIDS crisis was like for him. I want to hear about his relationship with Howard. I want all the shit that Bucky takes for granted every day. He can be my fairy godmother any day. 
Who would I want to be friends with? Probably Sharon. She’s one of the most reliable, loyal, and level-headed people in this world. She’s smart, she’s flexible, she rolls with things pretty well but also doesn’t take a ton of bullshit. She also has a good sense of humor about things. I feel like she’s someone I could call with my Zack Morris phone and talk with for hours about all sorts of things. We could also split a bottle of wine and talk some real shit. 
Wait - Why not Bucky or Steve? I don’t think these two are entirely likable, to be honest. They’re good humans, they mean well, but I don’t think they’re very well equipped in the friendship department.  I care about them very deeply (I hope that’s clear), but I don’t know if I’d want to be particularly close to either of them at this point in their lives. They’re both lacking in the skill and perspective to be good friends and partners, which is a major reason why they are in therapy. 
Who would I want to be my therapist - Hope, Bruce, Scott, or Claire? Claire. Given how much I suck at talking about the things that are really deeply bothering me, I think I would need an emotionally focused therapist who is going to dig in there and really get me to focus on all the emotions I’m trying to shove away. I would probably try to over-intellectualize everything and deflect, and I don’t think she’d let me get away with that. 
Okay, on to @pitchforkcentral86​~~~~~
What are my favorite scenes in BW and why? 
Oh boy. Well, this is a difficult question to answer since it feels like every chapter becomes a new favorite simply due to sheer amount of time spent planning and composing and revising and whining and complaining. And also my memory sucks. BUT, with that said, I think I would like to mention three scenes specifically:
1)      Bucky on deployment, cleaning a Humvee (Chapter 7), Steve standing nearby. This scene conveyed the tension of deployment and between Steve and Bucky so well, and, perhaps more importantly, built my respect towards Bucky as a competent, caring NCO (to that effect, the small scene in which we see Bucky the NCO on film telling all the little grunts to eat so they can become big and strong is another favorite).
2)      Beautiful Boy (Spent Brass), Steve’s memory from childhood with Sarah at the park, naming animals. I really don’t have a good reason other than that scene was so clear to me in my mind and was especially tender.
3)      Steve sleeping with Sharon in DC (Chapter 33). Honestly, it was just a great scene, and we had a really good time planning it out.
I can include many more, and certainly the ones Dread mentioned are favorites too, but I have to stop or this will just be a squeee fest.
Who is my favorite supporting character?
 Hank. His particular brand of honesty is extremely appealing to me, and I think Bucky secretly, or not so secretly, loves him too. And also Quill, just for shits and giggles because he is reliably there as an ice breaker, that lovable Mountain-Dew-drinking goof.  
Favorite topic to research this year: 
Well, I don’t do the research myself, but I spend many, many m-a-n-y hours listening to and conversing with Dread about all the things he’s delved into for this fic. So I guess maybe I’ll turn this question into favorite topic to discuss/conceptualize. In that respect, Bucky’s and Jack’s relationship has been by far the most intriguing, grueling, fascinating and difficult aspect of this fic to conceptualize – those were some of the best talks in the process. [Dreadnought edit: You will see much more of this in future chapters, folks!] And for a fun answer, planning out sex scenes is hilarious.
Am I more of a Steve or Bucky?
Bucky, no doubt. Sometimes it feels like Dread has climbed into my brain, found a horrible nugget of truth about me, and then put it into words coming out of Bucky’s mouth. Those moments are both wonderful and terrible in equal measure.
Who would I want to hang out with for a day?
For a whole day? Can it maybe be a coffee or, like, a quick lunch? I honestly don’t know… Neither Steve nor Bucky will be very good company, I think. Not in their current versions, anyways. Rikki is hella cool but she intimidates me, so, not her. Um.. Huh. Nope, don’t have an answer.
Who would I want to be friends with?
Probably Hank, again. He has a really good attitude. I’m starting to feel like not picking Steve/Bucky is selfish because it’s like “oh, they have too many issues and it won’t be fun”. But it’s also true! Friendship is reciprocal, and I really don’t think that’s where they’re at. (But I would have totally been dying to be friends with Steve in his bookshop days). 
Who would I want to be my therapist - Hope, Bruce, Scott, or Claire?
Hope or Claire. Both are no-nonsense competent therapists. But I think maybe Hope will be too put-together for me. So, yeah, probably Claire. 
-----------------------------
Okay, everyone. Back to the grind. I’ll update as soon as I can!  Remember to wash your hands with the fastidiousness of BW Steve Rogers. (And also remember to sing the “happy birthday fucking everyone” song, which should actually be sung TWICE or resentfully enough that it lasts 20 seconds.)
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avengerscompound · 5 years ago
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Legacy - Chapter 2
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Legacy: A Hawkeye Fanfic
Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //
Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x  F!Reader
Word Count:  1800ish
Rating:  E
Square filled:   @marvelfluffbingo - Neighbor AU
Warnings:  Pregnancy, domestic abuse, post-endgame, angst, developing-relationship, hurt/comfort, smut, Laura and Clint have broken up.  Comic Clint/MCU Clint mix.
Synopsis: Nothing is the same after the events of Endgame.  When Clint has trouble returning to a life where his family hasn’t changed but he has lost everything, he moves back to the city and tries to move on as a single parent. When Nate finds you bruised and pregnant in the stairwell of his building, he decides that there might be another way that he can make Nat’s sacrifice worth something.
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Chapter 2
You’d spent the week at Clint’s place before you were able to set the next door apartment up enough that you could actually live in it.  In that week a whole slew of things happened that you had felt would break you but somehow didn’t.
First thing was, was Richard was let out on bail the following morning.  He’d come back to the apartment block fuming and when he saw the notice of eviction and the locks changed he’d come storming upstairs and bashing on the door.  Clint had told you to go wait in the bedroom with the kids.
Richard had bellowed at Clint.  He called him an interfering asshole.  Screamed at Clint that it was none of his business.  That he had no right to lock him out.  That he was a fucking piece of shit nobody and that's why he couldn't cut it as an Avenger anymore.  Clint had just calmly taken it all.  Never once raising his voice.  That's when Richard had snapped and from the spot you'd taken peering through a crack in the door, you'd seen Richard swing at him.
You had then gotten to see exactly why Clinton Francis Barton had been taken on as an Avenger in the first place.  He had stepped aside and using Richard’s forward moment, he elbowed him in the middle of the back and knocked him to the ground.  Richard raised his head and saw you and you slammed the door closed.  There was a fight.  You could hear fist hitting flesh and things being broken.
When Clint called to you, he had Richard pinned to the ground with several of the neighbors there as witnesses.  The police had come and arrested him again.  It turns out, attacking an Avenger - even an ex one - was a lot more serious a crime than attacking your pregnant girlfriend.  Somewhat akin to assaulting a police officer or something.
Which led to the second thing that made you nearly breakdown, this time in relief.   He didn’t get bail.  Reoffending immediately combined with attacking an Avenger meant he had to stay in prison until his trial.
Following that, you had then been set upon by people in the building.  Bringing you things they no longer needed to help furnish your new home.  Just between your neighbors, you received linen, mismatched dinnerware, silverware, and a couch that was a little ratty and worn but still very comfortable.  They also bought food.  Dishes and dishes of it.  Until the small freezer that came with the apartment was filled to the brim and most of the fridge was too and it bled over into Clint’s.
Then Clint had said he’d just buy the other bigger things you might need.  When you had argued with him over it, he said he could always just rent the place as furnished later, or if you really wanted to, you could pay him back but you couldn’t live there with no bed.  So he’d taken you to Ikea and gotten the last few things you needed to move in.
Finally, after everything he’d already done for you, when he didn’t even really know you, he’d organized to have an interview at Stark Industries.  It wasn’t a job, but just that starting point when you’d been out of work for months thanks to Richard, was the foot in the door you desperately needed.  You worried.  You had the experience, but you were pregnant.  You weren’t exactly going to be able to keep working for long.
Which was worse?  Being in an abusive relationship or being completely alone?
It had been a full week and it had led you here, sitting on the couch with Clint.  This near stranger who had just changed your life.
“You can get your bed back tomorrow.”  You said.
“Mmm… that will be nice, this couch has been killer on my back.”  Clint teased.
“I can take the couch you know.”  You said.  “You’ve already done way too much for me.”
He shook his head.  “Laura would kill me if she found out I let a pregnant woman sleep on this piece of crap couch.”
“I don’t… Thank you.  I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t decided to help me.”  You said.
He gently touched your shoulder.  It was funny just one week ago if he’d tried that you would have flinched away from him.  Now, it was actually comforting.  You welcomed it and leaned into him a little.  “You don’t have to keep thanking me, you know?”
“I know but…”
He raised his eyebrow at you as if to say ‘seriously’ and you chuckled and shook your head.
“But…”  You continued.  “I just don’t know why you’d do that.  I keep expecting you to hit on me or something.  You know, that this is a transactional help.”
Clint frowned.  “He really fucked with your head didn’t he?”
You nodded.  “Yeah, he did.  But I’ve been with him for a long time.  No one else has ever even asked if I was okay outside of asking me what happened.”
Clint sighed and pulled away from you.  It was almost like he was ashamed of his reasonings and thought if you heard them, you’d judge him for it, even after everything he’d done.  “I guess there’s a couple of reasons.  When I was a kid I was pretty badly abused by my dad.  I guess that’s a big one.  No one ever really did anything to help me when I was trapped with that.  I don’t think I can just look the other way.”
You reached over and took his hand, and he linked his fingers with yours.  It was a reflex action.  At some point in his life, when Clint Barton had struggled, someone would take his hand and now when a hand slipped into his, his fingers closed around it without thinking.  You wondered if that had been his ex.
“You know when everyone died I lost my kids and my wife?  Cooper should be 18 now.  That’s so fucking weird.  Seeing that 13-year-old boy who’s just starting to get the starts of the man who he’ll be when he should be at college or some shit.”
He paused and let out a breath, shaking his head.  “I went crazy.  I couldn’t understand how my three innocent kids and my wife who had done nothing except support me even when I wasn’t the best husband in the world, had died just like that.  I didn’t even see it happen.  I was there teaching Lila archery I turned around and it happened while I wasn’t looking.  I didn’t know what was going on.  And we live in the middle of nowhere.  I thought they were pranking me and I looked and I looked.  I think something inside me broke.  When I finally found out what was going on I was so angry that they could be taken and yet the world was still full of complete scum.  I went around killing as many of the people I decided didn’t deserve to be alive as I could.”
He wouldn’t look at you as he spoke so you just sat stroking your thumb over the back of his hand, hoping that you could reassure him.  Let him know it was okay.  He swallowed and took a deep breath before continuing.
“My friend, Natasha.  Black Widow, you know her?”  He asked.  You nodded.  Obviously, you didn’t know her - know her, but you knew who she was.  Everyone knew who she was.  She was one of the Avengers that was lost.  While Tony Stark had tributes everywhere as large and vibrant as he had been.  Natasha Romanoff had been remembered in quieter ways.  Small shrines set up in cities in dark alleys and secret spots.  “She came and got me.  Pushed me back on track.  We had to … Fuck... I don’t even know how to explain it.  There was a point.  One of us had to die.  I tried to be the one.  She stopped me.  She wanted me to live so I could go back and take care of my family.  Only everything was different for me now.  Wasn’t it?  I’d become this monster while they’d stayed the same.  I don’t know if it was just in my head or what but it was just wrong.  Ya know?”
He turned his head and looked at you, with such pain and guilt written on his features.  You did know though.  Right now half the world existed having lived with the trauma of losing what had felt like everything.  So much had changed since then.  For you, it had meant moving forward.  For many others, it had meant stagnating in trauma.  There were children who had lost parents.  Parents who had lost children.  People had died from fall out.  Planes crashing because the pilot suddenly disappeared.  Power plants exploding because they’d suddenly lost half the people who were manning them.  People died during operations because their surgeons turned to dust on them.  The world had been in mourning for five years and then everyone had reappeared and they were lost and confused because the people they had loved had changed and grown and they were still the same.  You’d kept thinking about people like Clint whose kids had not grown.  Or worse the kids whose parents had come back to find them adults now.  Or twins where one was still small and innocent and the other was grown and hard.  You knew.  Of course, you knew.  A lot of families had not been able to survive people coming back.
You gently rubbed his arm.  “Yeah.  I know.”
“I failed her.  She gave up her life so I could be with my family and I couldn’t keep us together for her.”  He said.  “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t have ever just left you, but maybe before I would have just convinced you to go to a women’s shelter.  Now?  I gotta try and do something with my life that might actually mean that Nat’s death wasn’t a huge fucking waste.  And I hate that.  I hate that her death is what’s making me feel like this.  I should just be this person.  I wish I could go back and have it be me.  She would just be good because she was good.”
You wrapped your arms around him and held him as he melted against you.  “Clint, you’re still here with your kids.  The world has changed.  You still get to see your kids grow.”
“I know.”  He said quietly.   “I just… I had to help.”
You pulled back and gave him a friendly shove. “Well just know, I appreciate it and I'm really glad I get to be your neighbor.”
He smiled at you.  “I’m looking forward to it too.  It’s been nice having you here.”
You smiled and curled into his side.  Something you hadn’t felt comfortable doing with anyone in a long time.  He wrapped his arm around you and turned on the television.  You had been wondering this whole week which god you had to thank for sending Clint Barton to you.  Turns out her name was Natasha Romanoff.  You decided then and there you would watch out for him for her.  Her sacrifice was not going to go to waste.
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// NEXT
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waterparchive · 5 years ago
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Track By Track: ‘FANDOM’ with Waterparks
Brii Jamieson – October 21, 2019
Because who better to explain 'FANDOM' than the lads in Waterparks?
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So now that we've all had a chance to listen to Waterparks' new album 'FANDOM' and properly mull it over and digest it, we thought that this would be an opportune moment to go through the album in more detail. But rather than us explaining the themes and nuances of the songs on the album, we asked Waterparks to talk us through each track on 'FANDOM'. Here we go.
01. ‘Cherry Red’ Awsten Knight: “I had another demo that I was doing of [‘Cherry Red’], and the file got corrupted. And I was like, ‘Fuck’. I couldn’t open it anymore, and dragged in all the pieces of audio, and just made new tracks of audio. I was going to try and rearrange it to the way I had it, but I pressed play and it sounded like ‘Cherry Red’ when it kicks in. I was just in my room like, ‘Oh shit!’ I was like, ‘Well that’s that’.
“That was fucking wild - but that’s the start to the best album in the world. It gives hints to the last song, because that last song goes, ‘So I must be dead’, and this one’s like, ‘You know I’d die for you’ - get it?”
02. ‘Watch What Happens Next’ Awsten: “‘Watch What Happens Next’ is me just being all, ‘Fuck y’all’. Not all of y’all, just like, a lot of y’all. Most of y’all. All of y’all!
“I overthink shit, a lot of shit. I’m in a band. I overthink being in a band a lot. And one of those things that I’ve overthought is how most other genres are able to celebrate their successes, and it’s a very looked-down-on thing in ‘band world’ to talk about most shit besides feelings. It’s really weird, and it doesn’t really make sense. It’s naïve to pretend that that’s the only thing that exists, and also kind of bad because it panders to people that are just stuck in this cycle of being fucking sad all the time. It makes for mopey high school kids - like me!
“It’s about, in the same regard, how bands aren’t allowed to experiment as much with music as other kinds of people. This isn’t me shitting on it - this is me saying we should be allowed to do it. But hip-hop albums that I really love are super fuckin’ artsy, and if a band were to do that it would be like, ‘What the fuck are y’all doing?’ because when a band switches up the tiniest little thing, [fans] are not about it at all. And it’s super dogshit, it’s very weird, and I think it holds the genre back as a whole, so it was a very frustrating thing for me. So I wrote about it, as I tend to do.”
03. 'Dream Boy' Awsten: “‘Dream Boy’ is about fan expectations. It’s about being built into something, based on an idealised version of you - an unwarranted one, at that - where people look at you as a certain thing. They see you online as, ‘Oh, he’s this and this and this’, and they put what they need you to be into their heads. It’s built into this thing that you cannot live up to, and it’s ultimately going to lead to disappointment - on their end, and my end, because it doesn’t feel good to let people down. But that’s just what happens. Pop banger, dude!”
04. 'Easy To Hate' Awsten: “That one was a ‘Friendly Reminder’ song actually, but it was just a really good song and everyone said I should keep it, and I was just like, ‘Yo, you’re right’. It’s about a break up. Yeah.”
05. 'High Definition' Awsten: “You guys are gonna make me cry by the end of this, and I’m gonna be like, ‘I hope you’re happy with this feature and you get your clicks’. Here we go.
“‘High Definition’ was the latest set of lyrics written for the album - it was the last thing. It’s about not being able to get close to people, because of what we do, being gone all the time. Or, you know, starting to have some kind of stature and not trusting the people who hit you up, because people may not have done so much before.
“There’s a song that’s all, ‘Back then hoes didn't want me, now I'm hot hoes all on me’ [Mike Jones’ ‘Back Then’] - but not in like a bragalicious way. It’s an, ‘I’m like really lonely, I hate all of this’, kind of way. It’s like that.”  
06. 'Telephone' Awsten: “‘Telephone’ was written when I was super fucking depressed - surprise - and I was at Target. I saw a cute girl at Target, and instead of being like, ‘Sup’ - I would have never done that anyway - I went home and wrote a super obsessive love song, and it was so tight.”
Geoff Wigington: “He called me and was like, ‘Dude, I’ve just seen the prettiest person at Target, I don’t even know what to do - I can’t find them now. I think I’m just gonna go home and write about it’.”
Awsten: “Did that happen?”
Geoff: “Yeah!”
Awsten: “Alright. Either way, I also don’t remember what they look like anymore. Because I saw the responses when I said that were like, ‘What does she look like, blah blah blah missed connection’, and I honestly don’t remember. It was like, January 2018. Yeah, so that song’s that.
“There’s another reason that it almost wasn’t on the album - the original version was kind of pop-punk sounding, and I was like, ‘Fuck that’. But the other reason is, I was trying to decide if it takes away from the album - but it doesn’t though. Because with some of the other themes of the album, it counts as the sugar-spike in [‘Fandom’]. Because when you’re dealing with some shit, you have hard ups and downs, and it’s kind of like a manic thing. It’s lodged between ‘High Definition’ which is a very lonely, isolating song, then you’ve got the ‘AAAAAAH!’ (we pretend that ‘Group Chat’ isn’t a thing for a second), and we have ‘Turbulent’. So it’s between those guys. That’s how it’s meant to be. It’s like, low - very high - very low.”
07. ‘Group Chat' Awsten: “Let’s talk ‘Group Chat’ dude.” [They literally just performed ‘Group Chat’ here. That’s the whole thing].
08. ‘Turbulent’ Awsten: “I was like, ‘I’m done with break up songs dude, I’m over it’. Then I got re-mad at some new shit. Then I was like, ‘You know what though, if we’re gonna do this, it’s gotta be crazy different from everything else, sonically and lyrically’, so instead of approaching it like, ‘Eh’, it was like, ‘Fuck you nerd, I’m way tighter than all of this shit’. Oh my god, and then sonically it was just so dark and shiny and fast, and I was like, ‘This is the best’. [‘Turbulent’] was the turning point for ‘Fandom’ - that was the first thing made after being like, ‘You know what, that one is not going to work, we’re gonna start over’. That was the first thing, and then I was like, ‘Oh, this is what we’re supposed to be doing, alright’.”
09. 'Never Bloom Again' Awsten: “That song has been in the process of being written since 2015. I’ve got real old versions of that. But the thing is, it just kept evolving - I kept doing new verses, and changing things in the hook and stuff like that. And there was a version of it that was ready around the time of ‘Entertainment’ - it wasn’t quite the same, but the reason it wasn’t on there was because I was like, ‘If it’s only 10 songs, there shouldn’t be two acoustic. That might be overkill’.”
10. 'I Miss Having Sex But At Least I Don't Wanna Die Anymore' Awsten: “‘I Miss Having Sex But At Least I Don’t Wanna Die Anymore’ is about missing having sex… but not wanting to die anymore. In the verses, I was just trying to talk directly to the fans - the first one that’s like, ‘Stop asking me that, don’t ask me that, I don’t wanna do that, I don’t wanna do that either’. It’s always somebody’s birthday. Always. But that song leaves nothing to be imagined… If somebody is like, ‘What’s that line mean?’, I’d be like, ‘Can you read?’. When I say all the lyrics in this album are a lot more blunt, this one is the perfect example of that.”
11. 'War Crimes' Awsten: “Oh. Bud-dy. Oh my lord. What a crazy song. Initially there was another version - or when I first started doing it, it was like a girly base and I was like, ‘Shut up Awsten! We’ve got way tighter shit to say’. It’s me venting about the past year and a half, but it’s like an overview of that time, and is just me bitching about all of it, because bitching is great.
“I mean, we’ve toured a lot, so we’ve experienced a lot with other bands. We’ve experienced a lot just with other people in general and how they are, and how they treat you when things suck - or when things are tight. Or how they treat me because I’m the singer, and he’s just the drummer!”
12. ‘[REBOOT]’ Awsten: “Oh man, that’s like the pettiest breakup song, but it’s so great. I sing so quick in that song, it’s really fun. I wanted that one to come out before [the album] because I worry when songs are towards the back of the album that they’re just not gonna be heard as much, and it’s just a little more sonically… I don’t wanna say low-key - but other songs slam, or I’m like screaming and shit. I wanted to make sure it got its highlight.
“And plus, shout out to those Marilyn Manson-sounding vocals in the chorus - because I didn’t want it to stay the same dynamically, but when we tried to make it go up it just sounded dumb. I was like, ‘Do you know what we have to do? We have to go gloomier. Just sink that bottom half with some real dark shit, some real minor stuff in there’. We made it sound just like Marilyn Manson and it was crazy, and I was like ‘there it is! Bop!’.”
13. ‘Worst’ Awsten: “‘Worst’ was written in March 2019. That’s a lie.
“‘Worst’ started the way most demos do - on the laptop. But then I got upset! And I went and walked to Starbucks and put it on YouTube one morning after seeing some stuff online, and left it unlisted for a minute because I knew our old label would be like ‘waaa’ about it. So I left it up for a minute on unlisted so if people had the link they could find it, but then I deleted the tweet. So I just let it circulate, and dude that shit had like 30,000 views, which back then was like, a lot - because that was back before ‘Entertainment’. Then they made me put it on private, because they found that and Felony Steve: rest in peace Felony Steve (he’ll be back). But then people kept re-uploading it, and one of them has like 400,000 something views right now, which is crazy. So I was just like, ‘I think I can do that song way fucking better’, and sonically it’s completely different now. Yeah, that song is fuckin’ tight. It’s one of the more genre-unique songs on the album.”
14. ‘Zone Out’ Awsten: “‘Zone Out’ came before ‘Dream Boy’ - it was stuck in my head for a long time, and finally I just recorded that chip-tune version of it, for me. But it was kind of ad-libby and shit. So once I got more of the lyrics together I did that. I was just listening to it on repeat because I was like, ‘This is so beautiful’, but then I was like, ‘You know what, this song should be like a full-on pop banger’, and then ‘Dream Boy’ happened. But it’s meant to be like a reflection at the end of the album, kind of like, after all this shit. And it’s kind of more shaky sounding, low… a little more sarcastic at that point.”
15. ‘I Felt Younger When We Met' Awsten: “What a fuckin’ hit. Yeah, that song, there was a version of it for ‘Friendly Reminder’, but it was just super light and it just didn’t do its job. I was like, ‘It’s just not impacting the way it needs to, so it needs to be rewritten’, and now it’s the fucking most insane intro on the entire album - oh my god. When we first got that at the studio, I was in the car with it and I was just like, ‘Woah’, turned it up way to loud, and just started it over when it got to the verse. So crazy.
“That song lyrically links back in to ‘Cherry Red’ - because it’s all meant to be very cohesive, even with the album art and stuff like that. Like the clock hands on the orange - that’s supposed to be the visual, and the ticking at the end represents that it’s about to start over again. Because it’s cyclical! Because guess what, dude? One of the fucking themes, part of the concepts of ‘Fandom’ is grief, and grief is a fucking loopy thing, it’s not a straight path - sometimes you gotta start over again. And you know what? The album did that: sonically, visually, conceptually. It’s a concept album, give us a five.”
https://www.rocksound.tv/features/read/track-by-track-fandom-with-waterparks
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thephantomofthe-internet · 6 years ago
Text
Homeward Bound: Chapter 8
Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader, Billy Hargrove x Henderson!Reader
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13
Chapter Summary: Going from Hargrove to Harrington can give a girl whiplash, or at least it should.
Words: 3,213
Warnings: Swearing, slight smut referenced oops, death mention
Permanent Tag: @hotstuffhargrove @denimjacketkisses @hargrovesgoldilocks @casaharrington @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @hipsmcgee
Series Tag: @moonstruckhargrove @kurt-nightcrawler @baebee35 @thoughstofaredhead @supernatural-pants @bby-becca @fear-the-reaper115
You awoke to the sun burning your eyes. Your neck was sore and locked up, your back aching. As you sat up, it took you a minute to remember where you were. This wasn’t your bed, nor was it your room, but your things were everywhere.
You were at Billy’s. And you’d slept with him.
And you hated yourself for it. You shouldn’t have done it, he loved you for Christ’s sake, and you used him.
And the worst part was it wasn’t even good. It was terrible, god awful, embarrassingly bad. You were certain that your memory of him being a god in bed was just the memory of an inexperienced teenager, because this was not good by any means. You’d never felt more ignored by the person on top of your in your life-you were a complete afterthought in the whole event. You swore you’d never been further from an orgasm in your entire life. That would’ve been shitty but if it hadn’t lasted forever; that was the one thing your memory had correct, he lasted long. Too bad that’s all he had going for him.
You crept out of bed; Billy was still snoring next to your place in bed, and slowly gathered your things off the floor. You made sure to not miss a piece of yourself, pulling back on your skirt and blouse, your bra was still around your waist when you awoke. You pulled on your underwear and tiptoed out of his bedroom.
Your shoes and purse were still by the door and you grabbed them, slipping out the front door before he could even stir.
You knew well enough that you looked awful-signs of sex were all over you. You were more than glad that the hickeys weren’t on your neck, only your chest and collarbones. Your body was desperately sore, though it was only because you’d tried and failed to share a twin bed.
As you made your way out of the apartment, you wondered how you were going to spin this into a good lie. Your mother was going to kill you, god that felt so immature to you. You weren’t supposed to be out with boys, unless the boy was Dustin, and you certainly weren’t supposed to be spending the night with them. And you’d been gone all night, how the hell were you supposed to cover for yourself. Steve had to have told your mother where you were going, he always had to have the moral high ground over you.
The honk of a car horn startled you out of your thoughts, though you chose not to turn around to see who it was. You didn’t want nor need to see whoever thought it was a good idea to honk to get a lady’s attention.
“Henderson!” the driver cried and you let out a small sigh and a tired laugh, turning to smile at the driver.
Steve Harrington was behind you and his timing was excellent.
“You need a ride?” he asked, slowing the car as he got closer to you. You nodded, pulling open the door and hopping in quickly. Steve chuckled, watching you straighten out and slump down, defeated.
“Have fun last night?” he asked with a smirk.
You groaned “No…well yeah, and then no. Ugh, it was not a good choice.” You admitted glumly. “And now I’m gonna get grounded, god I feel like I’m sixteen or something…”
“Relax, your mom’s not gonna do shit to you.” Steve replied easily. You scowled at him, rolling your eyes.
“Have you met my mother?” you asked sarcastically.
“Yes, and I know lying to her solves most problems, which I already did. As far as she knows, you were at Jenny Stein’s. And since she lives in the same complex as your Mr. Hargrove, I think it’ll work out fine.” Steve said with a shrug.
“You lied to my mom for me?” you asked, wide eyed.
“Yeah, yeah I did.” He replied.
“Thank you…” you said. You had no idea what else, it shocked you. He wasn’t supposed to be protecting you, that wasn’t his role anymore. But he was, and while it should’ve annoyed you, it warmed your heart.
“Don’t worry about it, you hungry?” he said “Cause I haven’t eaten yet and I’m starving.”
“Yeah, yeah I can eat.” You said, ignore the way your stomach growled at the very mention of food. Steve drove off towards what was once a crime scene, the diner formerly owned by Benny Hammond, the first outside victim anyone had ever heard of.
The place lived in a strange place in your mind; filled with both happiness and second hand grief. It lived there because you didn’t know Benny, you never would, but you spent hours in the place he died. Benny’s had been bought by a third party chain and soon became a fifties themed diner-complete with waitresses on roller skates. It had lost its down-home sheen and became an outside force. People protested the change but nothing could be done and suddenly it was someplace without feeling; a cold, sterile environment wrapped in pastels and kitsch. It felt fake and yet real, you spent nearly every afternoon there, planning schemes but also drinking shakes and relaxing, planning school dances or weekend trips. You went on dates there, saw hearts break and explode with love. You both loved and hated that diner.
And sitting there now, in your old booth from years past, you felt both at home and in a strange land. You’d been on your first date with Steve in that same booth, sharing a shake and wondering how your lives had gotten to this point. Now, you sat as strangers, sipping coffee, unsure of your places in each other’s worlds. Silence was the wall in between you. You intended to remove the first brick; you’d built the wall after all.
“He said he loved me.” You said simply, swallowing a mouthful of warm coffee, slightly too sweet for your liking.
“He did?” Steve asked, clearing his throat. He was obviously holding back a laugh, trying to be polite to you, but it wasn’t working; his face fully gave him away.
“He did.” You replied, chuckling softly.
“How did you respond?” Steve asked, leaning closer to you, elbows on the table, dangerously close to knocking the salt over
“I nearly jumped out the window!” you cried, earning a boisterous laugh from Steve, who fell back against the white vinyl booth. The whole thing was as silly as it felt, which was reassuring. But it was also nice to laugh about it-when it happened, you wanted to die, but now you were okay. You didn’t have to love him, and you sure as hell didn’t, but it was good to know that the whole thing was as stupid sounding as it felt.
“Jesus Christ and you still slept with him?” he asked, dumbfounded, shaking his head with a wide smile.
“Apparently! I guess I pitied him or something…” you sighed, rolling your eyes at your own stupidity.
“Was it…sorry, no I shouldn’t ask that.” He replied, stumbling over the question he gave up on. Your roller-inclined waitress, Katherine, placed your plates in front of you, refilling the coffee cups and skating off before you could even thank her.
“No, it’s cool.” You shrugged “It was awful. Absolutely terrible, it was like sleeping with a virgin except it lasted for like two and a half hours.”
“Wait seriously?” he asked, dropping his fork. This was a new side of Billy Steve never got to see-the side where he wasn’t the king. Even long after high school, he still ruled over their peers. Sure, now he ran Miller’s Bar like he owned the place and made the young parents of Hawkins feel bad for starting their families early. But he was still admired, still wanted and lusted after. Steve hadn’t had a date in months but Billy was out every weekend from what he heard. On major drinking holidays, he’d been called to take down a couple of Billy’s altercations but nothing really ever became of them-nobody pressed charges and every generally forgot, leaving him with the paperwork.
“Really!” you cried, giggling “I swear, the guy I lost my virginity to was better, at least it was shorter.”
“Was I? I mean…never mind.” Steve started, immediately giving up on the sentence again. He was blushing now, his eyes downturned to his eggs, suddenly small in his seat.
“You were better, don’t worry.” You said easily, shrugging softly as you took a bite of the giant pile of pancakes. Steve perked up just a little, a small smile spreading across his face. He looked more confident, at ease with himself again. You were glad to be of a little help to his self-esteem, even if you weren’t necessarily ready to be having these conversations again.
“Well good…not that I asked, but you know…good to know.” He said, his voice smoother. He was trying to play it cool now, finding his groove again, although he seemed to be stumbling just a bit. You found it oddly endearing, like an elementary schooler trying to imitate their cool older brother instead of an adult.
“Oh totally…totally completely, you’d never ask me that…” you replied, shaking your head as a small smile slipped onto your lips. It was hard not to laugh; he looked so serious, you could almost take him seriously if you didn’t know him. As he puffed out his chest, doing a silent imitation of Billy, you lost it. He just looked so silly; a false attempt at masculinity and suaveness, like a marionette instead of a real boy.
“Good and, ya know girl…I still love ya…” he added, trying his best to mock the Californian’s accent, slightly marred by Indiana’s tone.
You snorted loudly, coffee nearly coming out of your nose, making you choke just for a second as you shook your head, holding up your palm in the universal sign of ‘stop, wait I got one’.
“No no it’s like this.” You puffed your chest, widening your stance to make yourself as big as possible. You jutted out your jaw and pulled your best open mouth smirk, eyeing him like a piece of meat, which immediately made Steve cower away, watching you almost mystified. You ran your tongue over your upper teeth and lip, nodding at him. “You know I just…I love you, pretty girl…” you crooned, your voice not quite low enough to reach his tone and not quite skilled enough to imitate his accent, turning the words into a strange mix of choices that broke Steve’s resolve immediately.
“What was that…” he cried, his voice hoarse and breathless. You merely grinning, shrugging easily. “How do you move like him and sound nothing like him at the same time?” he guffawed.
“I’m not good at accents!” you said with a laugh, only making Steve laugh harder. The whole scene felt homey, like a warm blankets on a cold winter’s night. It was one of those moments you wished you could sink into like a warm bath, but time was physical and you had to move on, taking a sip of coffee and watching Steve come down from his giggle fit.
You finished breakfast in relative silence, although it was comfortable one. The kind you had with your father before he got his divorce and ran off with his mistress, back when you were young and naïve of the ways the world can ruin a person. It was strange to find yourself comparing Steve to your father, especially because you hated your father.
You hated him for abandoning you and Dustin. You hated him for not paying child support. You hated him for marrying Marnie and forcing you to play bridesmaid while Dustin was none the wiser. You hated him for moving on with his life while your mother struggled to find her footing again. You hated him for taking away the music in your life and forcing you to find it again on your own.
But Steve…well he wasn’t your father. Not by a long shot. Your mother swore that once he had a sense of humour and a heart, but you never really got to see it. But this breakfast with him, you felt as though you slipped back into your childhood in Chicago.
Your feet dangled off the floor as you sat on the edge of your big wooden kitchen chair, trying to keep your freshly cleaned and absolute favourite pink shirt, the one with the big crocheted butterfly on the front, clear of cereal bites and spilled milk as you took too big bites of sugary breakfast cereal. Across the table, your father sat in his equally clean and pressed black suit, the jacket hanging off the chair like clockwork. He was reading the newspaper, the ink turner the tips of his fingers black, and drinking black coffee from the boring, plain white mug he used every morning like clockwork. You made him a mug for father’s day, covered in bright splotches of colour and squiggly doodles that vaguely mimicked smiley faces, hearts, and stars. He used it once, and then it became a holder for pens and pencils on his desk. You didn’t mind, you were just happy he appreciated it, that he even used it at all.
Your mother was frazzled upstairs. Dustin had just been born, he was hardly alive and yet he insisted on making his presence known by screaming. He’d been in and out of the hospital since he was born. Your father wasn’t pleased about it, you’d heard them fight, but when you looked at your baby brother, he seemed fine to you. He didn’t have collar bones, fair, but you thought it was cool. And besides, his big eyes made up for it. You thought he was beautiful. Your father disagreed.
On mornings like this, you had to make your own breakfast, which meant whatever the sugariest cereal you had in stock was with too much milk because the jug was too heavy for you to lift and your father was never really watching to make sure you could handle it. You ate at the table in as close to silence as a five year old could muster, which meant you hummed to yourself and muttered whatever thoughts you had to yourself, and your father read in silence. It was nice though-your father worked long hours and you hardly saw him because of it. Those brief moments at the table before he left for work gave you simple moments with him, the tangible kind you could taste and smell and hear and feel when you recalled them.
You heard your mother let out a sharp cry, a word you knew you weren’t supposed to use and mommies weren’t supposed to say. “Cliff!” she cried from upstairs “I think he’s sick, I think we have to go back to the hospital!”
Your father looked up from his paper for the first time that morning, calling back “I’m sure he’s fine, Claudia! He’s just acting like a baby!” and then, he looked to you. He hadn’t looked at you all morning. And he smiled, he rolled his eyes. This was an intimate moment, a brief beat where your sentiments were aligned and he treated you like his equal. He believed that you two had the same feelings on the situation happening just above you. And you complied; you shrugged with a giggle, a secret shared between you two. For the first time in your life, you and your father were aligned, comrades in battle instead of trailing daughter to distant, aloof father. That little look you shared was a moment you held onto for the rest of your life, until he sent you back to Hawkins without a second look.
You wondered if that was who Steve could become. You could almost see it-if life led him done the same path it led Hopper, you could see him becoming jaded and cynical and distant. But then there was something in him, an eternal sense of hope, which kept him away from that path. He didn’t believe that the world was inherently good, he knew that there was evil always lurking around the corner, but he still believed in some sense of good and truth in the world, something you couldn’t fully get on board with anymore. You wondered if he had a cynical bone in his body. You guessed not.
“You ready to face the wrath of your mom?” Steve asked, drawing you out of your thoughts, an ease to his whole demeanour that felt unearned. You wished he was still nervous around you instead of so cool and collected.
“Eh, I guess…as long she actually believes I was at Jenny’s I should be fine. If not…well I would really appreciate if you were a poll bearer at my funeral.” You replied.
“Oh yeah? Who else should I ask?” he asked with a grin, pulling out his wallet to pay for breakfast before you could even ask for separate checks.
“Well Dusty, obviously, then get Lucas and Mike, I don’t really think Will can do the heavy lifting, not that Mike really could either…maybe get Marvin Rubio to do it, he’ll cry his way through it but he’s stronger than Mike and should be able to help hold my ass up, as long as he’s got a strong support around him to lift I won’t end up on the floor.” You said decidedly.
“What should we do about lover boy then?” he asked “I’m sure he’d want to carry you down the river.”
“Don’t let him touch me, and don’t let him make a speech! My mother will kill my ghost and I wanna haunt some people.” You replied.
“Duly noted, now let’s get out of here before Callahan puts an APB out on my location.” Steve said and you nodded, getting up from the plastic seat, your thighs sticking to the material slightly. Going home sounded both good and bad to you now; good, because you could finally change and wash the sins off your body, but bad because you have to finally deal with your mother. And the negatively were vastly outweighing the positives. Still, there was nowhere else for you to go, so you gritted your teeth and climbed back into Steve’s car.
The drive was short, much to your chagrin, and you were home before you could find your strength again. Unlike before, Steve wasn’t parking, so you quickly gathered your things.
“Thanks, for picking me up…and for breakfast, it was nice.” You said awkwardly, slinging your purse over your shoulder. He nodded and you climbed out quick, set to begin the dreaded ascent up your driveway.
Steve rolled down his window, calling after you “Hey! Before you try to make other plans, you wanna hang out with me and Dustin tonight? I’m sure the kid would love having you around.” He asked.
You nodded “Sure! Sounds good!” you replied with a grin, waving as he drove up before rushing up the steps. It was still early, maybe she was still asleep.
The door burst open. “Y/N!”  
You were so dead.
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mitchmarnier · 6 years ago
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BLOOD IN THE WATER
summary: “I think we’re all going to have do some pretty terrible things,” Eddie said quietly. His hand came to wrap in Richie’s shirt, trying to burn out the violent grip of his father’s from earlier. “None of us have a choice in anything anymore. Whatever happened at Greta’s tonight-“ Eddie’s voice broke and he felt Richie press a kiss into his hair. “There isn’t a good and a bad anymore. There’s just die or don’t.”
[or: after the gruesome murder of his younger brother, Bill Denbrough is determined to bring about the end of the string of crimes in Derry no matter the cost. As stories unwind and fall apart, there’s only more questions as everybody’s lives hang in the balance.]
chapter count: 14/21
chapter warnings: graphic depictions of violence, mentions of past rape, mentions of past character death, implications of sexual situations
Taglist: @honkhonkrichard @hufflepuffkaspbrak @emmieliabedelia @reddie-for-anything @wowdidiask @reddiesetrichie @beepbeepbitchard @lemonadeandrice @mirandosky @vanilluna @mqlvaa @fivxharmony 
[Prologue] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [Read Full Story on AO3] [Playlist]
Eddie Kaspbrak had just finished hanging the jacket up in his locker before it was slamming shut, nearly crushing his fingers and causing him to let out a small yelp. Standing behind where his open locker door had once been, was the tiny but fierce figure of Patricia Blum. She smiled happily up at him, as though she hadn’t just almost done damage to his hand.
“Come on, Kaspbrak,” Patty said cheerfully, grabbing his hand and trying to tug him down the halls. “We have places to go and answers to find. Whatever class you have can wait.”
Eddie let out a short, surprised noise as he stumbled under Patty’s surprising amount of force. “What? Where are we going? Is Richie-“
“Oh, Richie isn’t coming,” Patty said happily, walking quickly through the halls. Eddie’s heart jumped slightly, looking around the group of students. The whispers would no doubt to kicking to a start, Eddie being enough of a subject to school gossip ever since he started dating Richie. He’d wondered, for short moments, if it the reactions of the public could be anything similar to that of when Zachary Denbrough began dating Sharon. Eddie had started to feel as though he couldn’t walk, couldn’t breath, around his classmates without attracting attention. He supposed he should have expected that opening to his relationship with Richie Tozier would have been hot information, even with the amount of terrible things happening in Derry.
“Oh, I…” Eddie stalled for a moment, frowning and attempting to slow his steps behind Patty. “I should, I should probably go to class. I missed most of the last few weeks and I really shouldn’t skip out on anything else-“
Patty turned around and raise her eyebrows. “Eddie. Do you want to go to class?”
“No,” Eddie replied honestly without any hesitation. Nobody would want to go to a class where everybody- including your teachers- spent the entire time staring at you and whispering. “But-“
“Come on!” Patty grabbed at Eddie once more, yanking him through the halls fast enough that the heads of their classmates all whipped towards them. Eddie winced at the thoughts of all the rumors that would be following them out of the building.
Patty lead Eddie quickly through the cluster of student cars in the parking lot, then waited as a car pulled up to them. Stan Uris leaned out the drivers’ seat window and gave him an unimpressed look. “Alright. Get in.”
Eddie shook his head slightly, head spinning through a loop. “I… I thought you didn’t trust me.”
Stan sighed. “Beverly says you can’t be trusted… Which basically makes you the only person I find trustworthy about now.”
xxx
Richie pressed his yellow highlighter against the textbook and held it down, dragging it across a full line… then another… and another…. before sighing in frustration and tossing the highlighter back onto the desk. Leaning forward on his elbows, Richie ran fingers through his mess of curls.
“TOZIER!” Richie startled, looking up as Aurora Morgans came stomping into the otherwise empty classroom. Her brown eyes were blazing and slams a photograph down on the desk over his textbook. “You are not an easy dude to find, you know that?”
Richie sighed. “Yeah, Morgans. That was the whole point.”
Aurora flipped the photo over and Richie leaned to look at it on a reflex. A woman in a prom dress stared up at him, a woman he didn’t recognize. Richie’s eyes flicked back up to Aurora and he frowned. “This chick means nothing to me, and I’m pretty sure you know that. So, what are you fishing for?”
“Look a little bit closer and stop acting like a damn idiot,” Aurora growled. Richie shook his head slowly, reaching out for the photograph and pulling it towards him. His eyes landed on his mother and Frank Kaspbrak having a conversation in the background.
Richie made an aborted noise, and shook his head with a soft laugh. “What are you getting at, Morgans? They were friends, them talking together at a literal school function isn’t a crime. Why are you trying to make it into one?”
“This picture,” Aurora pointed at it angrily. “Was like, the only personal belonging that Robert Gray kept in his life after being arrested- and your mother is in it. This is the student he was dating while he was chopping up her classmates. Care to give your thoughts?”
Riche pushed away from his desk, and walked around in Aurora’s space. “If this is your snakey ass trying to accuse the Devils of being-“
“So quick to jump to the defense-“ Aurora began to mock before another person came stomping into the once deserted classroom and slammed the door shut. Ben Hanscom stomped towards them, glaring even more towards Aurora than he was towards Richie.
“You know, I tried. I really tried.” Ben was shaking his head, face contorted with a somehow calm rage. “I tried to get out, I tried to turn off all this curiosity bullshit. But this,” he shook a crumbled piece of paper into Aurora’s face. “But I guess I can’t! So what are we going to do?”
“What is it?” Richie crossed his arms to give a strong air of non-chalance. He seemed to remember Ben Hanscom being a stuttering, terrified mess in his drive way not too long ago, but this boy in front of him seemed to have had ever inch of fear drained from him and replaced with annoyance.
Ben tossed the paper in Richie’s direction, Richie fumbling with it and being forced to pick it up off the floor. “You can keep yourself away, but you can’t hide from what must happen. All will be revealed on the night of senior prom- Okay, what the fuck is this shit?”
Ben sighed. “I was delivered to the paper sometime yesterday. It had my name on it.”
“Somebody threatened you?” Aurora asked, voice cracking awkwardly. She reached out to take hold of Ben’s hand, but he yanked away and glared at her. Richie raised his brow and glanced back and forth between him, pursing his lips to keep from smirking.
“They threatened all of us,” Ben said coldly. “That shit about prom?”
“My sister…” Richie said with a soft voice. “There was the word prom written above her body when I found her.”
Aurora and Ben glanced at one another for moment with sharp eyes. “And you never thought that might be important at all?” Aurora asked in a sharp, serious tone.
Richie narrowed his eyes at her, frowning. “The police were all there, they fucking saw it. Sorry I didn’t report to you with the latest gossip immediately after finding my thirteen year old sister’s dead body. I’ll make note of that next time.”
“That’s not what I meant and you fucking know it, Tozier.” Aurora rolled her eyes and even Ben was shaking his head.
“Actually, I don’t think I do know that,” Richie almost growled and a twinkle of that all-familiar fear flashed on Ben’s face. “All I know about you, Aurora Morgans is that you’re a soulless information sucker who I would bet lost her virginity to the super information highway and-“
“Okay, okay, we get it-“ Ben broke through, waving his hands in front of him. “As true as all those things are-“
“Hey!” Aurora gasped.
“They aren’t going to help us now.” Ben finished without out so much as glancing at the offended look Aurora was giving him.
“Helping us?” Richie laughed bitterly. “No offense but I’m not part of whatever this puppy-love-crush-turned-hate-fuck relationship you two have going on, I have my own issues.”
“And your own hate fuck relationship?” Aurora asked with a sweet voice.
Richie’s jaw clenched and arms twitched. “Morgans, you rat-spirited cunt, I really don’t want to fucking drop you kick right now but I fucking will.”
“I could take your hyped-up daddy’s boy ass,” Aurora shot back with a laugh. “You don’t have your little gangster buddies to back you up, you’re not even wearing your jacket anymore. We both know you’re nothing on your own.”
“Stop, stop, stop,” Ben cried, pushing himself between Aurora and Richie as Richie’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Basically, this is all our problem!! If we were smart, we’d probably like, drop out of school and become hermits.”
“I’m not running away from some hyped-up psychopath,” Aurora said immediately, to Richie and Ben’s matching eye rolls. “Benny, we’re so close to blowing this case wide open. Look-“ She drove forward to grab the photo from Richie’s desk but Ben was turning his head away.
“This isn’t some case, Aurora!” Ben cried. “This is people’s lives- our lives.”
“Then why didn’t you go to the police with the letter instead of me?” Aurora challenged with a smirk.
“I didn’t come to you,” Ben shot back. “I came to Richie- you just happened to be here.”
Richie made a mockery of an honour noise and pressed his hands over his heart. “I am honoured, Haystack. Look a that, the loving is really starting to blossom here-“
“Shut up, Tozier,” Aurora and Ben said in unison, which only prompted a larger grin from Richie.
“Listen, detectives,” Richie held his hands and shook his head. “I respect your…. weird obsessions with crypic clues but this is way heavy. I don’t want any part of this!”
“You’re already part of this!” Ben actually yelled, Richie and Aurora’s both startling. “Fucking like it or not, we’re all a part of this! I think we’re all going to have to work together to fix this bullshit!”
“And end scene,” Richie said, slapping his hands together. “Wonderful performance, Mr Hanscom, just splendid. Keep your ears open for your award nomination, it should be coming in anytime now.”
“Are you always such a douchebag?” Ben hissed.
“Yes,” Richie and Aurora said in unison. Richie clapped his hands together a few more times then began to gather up his belongings. “Well, this was fun, y’all. I’ve got to go… somewhere that isn’t here with you.”
“Need to go find your little boy toy?” Aurora asked. “Don’t bother, I heard Uris and Blum tossed them into the backseat of the Rabbi’s car and drove off at the start of first period.”
For a spilt second, there was an emotion of Richie Tozier’s face that gave even Aurora a pause. He stepped forward and took Aurora’s chin in his fingers and tilted it up towards him. “Rory, sweetheart… jacket or not, I could still make you the next Derry bitch to disappear.”
xxx
Eddie stepped out of the backseat of Stanley Uris’ car, looking up into the sunny sky. The Neibolt House was a dark stain on the whole street, falling apart sidings and over grown grass that held a height similar to the rickety front porch. The yellow crime scene tape draped around the front door really completed the picture. Stomach tense, Eddie turned back to the couple behind him. “What are we doing at Neibolt?”
Patty hiked her backpack higher on her shoulders and grinned excitedly. “We’re going to find out the truth. From people who really know what happened. The people who died.”
“What… are you talking about ghosts?” Eddie asked with a crinkle of his nose. “Like… actual ghosts? Do Jewish people even believe in ghosts?”
Stan came around the front of the car and sighed. “I- personally as a Jewish person- am skeptic of ghosts as best. But the actual religion definitely has spirit aspects.”
“The Torah forbids trying to communicate with the dead,” Patty added in too-happy a voice. “But so does the Bible and literally every other book of Worship, and white people do that shit all the time.”
“This is how white die,” Eddie said quietly, glancing back over his shoulder at the old house. “My ma always told me to never go in this house, you know? It’s cursed.”
“She’s probably right.” Patty cheered, taking Stan’s hand in one and Eddie’s in the other. She pulled them quickly up to the house and ripped down the strings of CSI tape. Eddie made a small noise of disapproval but followed the pair of them down into the house.
“We’re going right into the heart of everything,” Patty called over her shoulder as she stomped down a set of stairs that looked as though only the barest of weight would send them tumbling apart. Eddie and Stan glanced at one another anxiously, both hesitating at the top of the steps before Patty’s voice carried back up to them. “Come on, chicken shits! I did it just fine!”
“I’ve got a foot of height and almost 100 pounds on you!”  Stan shouted down but quickly sighed and took off down after her. Eddie inhaled sharply, wishing for once that he still carried around his inhaler from youth, and moved down the stairs as quickly as he could. He collided with Stan at the bottom, who gave him a look of distaste before they both stepped further into the dingy basement.
“Oh my god…” Eddie whispered, taking in the make shift bed on the ground and the chains that were still attached to the walls. His stomach twisted and churned at the thought of Janie Tozier- the little pigtail girl- being held down here for months with no hopes of ever getting free. Eddie wrapped his arms around himself, noting the stark paleness of Stanley’s face as they both move closer to the papers and cup that Patty was setting up right in front of the makeshift bed.
“Wow, wait, right here?” Stan asked, voice cracking slightly under his nerves. He and Eddie both creeped closer, looking at one another in mild distress. “Isn’t that a little disrespectful?”
It was that moment that Eddie really realized that Stanley had watched Janie Tozier grow up similar to how he’d watched Georgie Denbrough. Probably even closer, given the bond that the Devils all shared with one another, and kind of found family connection that Eddie would likely never have with anybody. Eddie swallowed harshly and found himself to recognize that this wasn’t his place to break down.
“It’s morbid, I know,” Patty said sadly. “But I feel like being as close to Janie’s spirit as possible will help us. She hasn’t been dead long and it’ll be hard to-“
“Yeah, yeah,” Stan started shaking his head and took several steps back towards the stairs. “She hasn’t been dead long. This is messed up, Pats, I’m not… I’m not doing this. I want to know if Bev did this probably worse than you do, but I… There’s got to be another way.”
“We’ve already broken in!” Patty argued. “The serious felons are already done with! The police aren’t even going to come back here, you know what they’re like!”
“It’s not the legality I’m having with this, it’s the moral issues,” Stan said angrily, rubbing at the side of his face. “I’m not going to sit here and try to… talk to Richie’s dead little sister to find out if Beverly killed her! I… I don’t want to know that bad. It’s…. disturbing.”
Patty gave Stan a sad look and as she opened her mouth to reply, the door to the basement slammed shut and Eddie felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Goosebumps shot down his arms and he felt moments away from throwing up, watching how Patty tugging her Devils jacket closer around herself. The pieces of paper she’d placed on the ground started blowing until only four remained on the floor.
P… R … O… M
Eddie gasped, flashes of dripping red letters on a wall burning the backs of his eyes. He grabbed at Stan and started pulling him. “We need to go, we need to go now.”
17 notes · View notes
thegoldenyears-memories · 6 years ago
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                               WE EXIST, a kenta akiyama mix.
                                                             ( listen / download )
01. I WANT TO BREAK FREE de queen ( i want to break free from your liesm, you're so self satisfied i don't need you. i've got to break free, god knows, god knows i want to break free. i've fallen in love, i've fallen in love for the first time. and this time i know it's for real. i've fallen in love, yeah, god knows, god knows i've fallen in love. oh how i want to be free, baby. )
02. FIRST TIME HE KISSED A BOY de kadie elder ( feeling stuck, set him free. running out of luck, on his knees. keeping back the ghost inside, locked him in a pack all his life. first time he kissed a boy, he had never never known, cover up is what they told, feel so cold. first time he kissed a boy, he had never never loved, walks on a curvy road, feel. get lost, get lost, get lost, get lost. )
03. FUCK YOU de maria mena ( insult me all you want to but dare you do it to my face? you're entitled to your opinion, but i must ask you why if all you say is hurtful, i would take to heart your written sigh? fuck you uh-oh. )
04. I DON’T NEED TO BE YOU de barei ( i'm never going to wear your shoes, to become your desire. i don't need to be the one you want,  i'm the one i'm without a doubt. i don't need to fake, 'cause i'm more than a dummy. i never found it funny. i never hurt no one for who they are. i don't need to play hide and seek with nobody. just live and let me live. maybe we can get along, we can change for the better. i can tell i'm not the only one who has needed a cover. i don't need to be the one you want, want. i don't need to be the one i'm not. i don't need to be you. )
05. LGBT de lowell ( hi, my name is lgbt, don't take out your misery on me, i'm happy and free. whoa, don't hate our love. some old people wanna go back home, to the life where everyone pretending to belong. some young people are smarter than the teachers, they teach us that we do belong and some old people have our eyes, looking forward, embrace their role through the night. and some old people hate to change, except when they're praying away the things they need to shame. and some young people say they aren't hypocrites, say that they accept everyone and they help us all. and some young people like to act like old people, wearing bow ties and telling us we're wrong. and some old people don't remember we're kids and they never chose who they like. so they like me dead, they like me dead. )
06. I’M COMING OUT de diana ross ( i'm coming out, i want the world to know, got to let it show. i think this time around, i am gonna do it like you never knew it. ooh, i'll make it through. the time has come for me to break out of this shell. i have to shout that i am coming out. and, oh, how i've planned, i'm spreadin' love, there is no need to fear. )
07. PUT ‘EM UP de priory ( boys will be boys, who like boys, who dress like girls, and that's alright. we're hangin' with the boys that look like girls tonight. girls will be girls, who like girls, who dress like boys, and start up fights. we're hangin' with the girls that look like boys alright. who gave you the right to judge another's lover? now's the time for changing, so keep the hate from creepin' in. )
08. MODERN LOVE de david bowie ( god and man no confessions, god and man no religion, god and man don't believe in modern love. modern love walks beside me, modern love walks on by. )
09. EVERYONE IS GAY de a great big world ( if you're gay then you're gay, don't pretend that you're straight. you can be who you are any day of the week, you are unlike the others, so strong and unique, we're all with you. 'cause we're all somewhere in the middle, and we're all just looking for love to change the world. what if the world stops spinning tomorrow? we can't keep running away from who we are. if you're gay then you're gay, if you're straight well that's great,  if you fall in between that's the best way to be. and we're all here in it together, we're one step closer to breaking down the walls, everyone is gay. )
10. DANCING QUEEN de mamma mia! cast ( friday night and the lights are low, looking out for the place to go, where they play the right music, getting in the swing. you come in to look for a king. anybody could be that guy, night is young and the music's high. with a bit of rock music, everything is fine, you're in the mood for a dance, and when you get the chance. you are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen. dancing queen, feel the beat from the tambourine. you can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life. )
11. WILD THINGS de alessia cara ( find table spaces, say your social graces, bow your head, they're pious here, but you and i, we're pioneers. we make our own rules, our own room, no bias here. let 'em sell what they are sellin', there are no buyers here. so gather all the rebels now, we'll rebel rouse and sing aloud. we don't care what they say, no way, no way, and we will leave the empty chairs to those who say we can't sit there, we're fine all by ourselves. don't wanna hang around the in crowd, the cool kids aren't cool to me, they're not cooler than we are. we will carve our place into time and space, we will find our way, or we'll make a way, say hey, hey, hey. find you're great, don't you hide your face, and let it shine, shine, shine, shine, shine, shine. so aye, we brought our drum and this is how we dance. no mistakin', we make our breaks. if you don't like our 808s, then leave us alone, 'cause we don't need your policies. we have no apologies for being. find me where the wild things are, oh, my, we'll be alright. )
12. HETEROSEXUALITY IS A CONSTRUCT de one night stand in north dakota ( one more comment, one more joke, i won't accept it, i won't tolerate intolerance this time. i'm not a heterosexual man, i'm not ticking your boxes, that's not who i am, i don't fit into your neat little plan, and i never will. jesus christ, i'm done with it, you narrow minded piece of shit, i'd sooner cut off my own dick than be like you. did that make you uncomfortable, is your macho pride in trouble now, when you've beaten me up, then what will you do? love is not a crime, and i'd rather colour outside of the lines. love knows no gender and its about time, you nailed your colours up next to mine. )
13. COMING CLEAN de green day ( seventeen and coming clean for the first time, i finally figured out myself for the first time. i found out what it takes to be a man. well, mom and dad will never understand what's happening to me. )
14. THE VILLAGE de wrebel ( no, your mom don't get it, and your dad don't get it, uncle john don't get it, and you can't tell grandma 'cause her heart can't take it and she might not make it. they say, "don't dare, don't you even go there, cutting off your long hair, you do as you're told." tell you, "wake up, go put on your makeup, this is just a phase you're gonna outgrow." there's something wrong in the village, they stare in the village. there's nothing wrong with you, it's true, it's true. )
15. FUCK YOU de lily allen ( so you say it's not okay to be gay, well i think you're just evil. you're just some racist who can't tie my laces, your point of view is medieval. do you, do you really enjoy living a life that's so hateful? 'cause there's a hole where your soul should be, you're losing control of it and it's really distasteful. fuck you, fuck you very, very much, 'cause we hate what you do, and we hate your whole crew, so please don't stay in touch. )
16. PEOPLE LIKE US de kelly clarkson ( they try and knock us down, but change is coming, it's our time now. people like us, we've gotta stick together. keep your head up, nothing lasts forever. here's to the damned, to the lost and forgotten, it's hard to get high when you're living on the bottom. we are all misfits living in a world on fire, sing it for the people like us, the people like us. hey, this is not a funeral, it's a revolution, after all your tears have turned to rage just wait, everything will be okay. even when you're feeling like it's going down in flames. you've just got to turn it up loud when the flames get higher. )
17. FREEDOM CHILD de the script ( seek the truth, go rise and shine. break the rules, test your faith. trust your soul, and lead the way. lose yourself, yeah just go wild. don't let them take your freedom, child. don't show them hate, hate, hate will feed them, child. just show them love, love, love will free them, only love, love can defeat them. hold your ground, make your name. love your life, just feel no shame.the kids, kids, they won't stand a chance, if we don't, don't take a stance. put a flower on the top of a gun, put confetti in an atomic bomb, yeah. it's time to change now, we've seen enough. instead of war, we're declaring love, yeah. )
18. LIVE YOUNG DIE FREE de fletcher ( i don't want the same things i used to want anymore. i only wanna do it if it's something worth fighting for. don't think your money's gonna buy my time. well, who the hell wants to live a lie? i'm so sick and tired of being the one who plays it safe. ready to start it up and make it my show. i'll stay here with no regrets, don't tell me what i want. and if i'm gonna bet, i'm gonna bet it all, don't need your diamond rings, 'cause i can do anything. i wanna live young, die free free free. )
19. GOOD GUYS de mika ( don’t be offended, this might seem a little wrong, where have all the gay guys gone? and to the romance when i was 14 years old, and to my heroes that were dressed up in gold, only hoping one day i could be so bold, where have all the gay guys gone? where have all the good guys gone? )
20. LITTLE GAME de benny ( play us like pawns and relentlessly confine, into living up to gender roles and having absent minds. don't you think it's funny how they tell us how to live? hush, boy, oh, hush, boy, don't say a word, throw on a jersey and no one gets hurt. hush, girl, oh, hush, girl, just bat your eyes, play our little game. gender roles impose control and deceive progressive times, welcome to the land of the broken minds. )
21. RAISE YOUR GLASS de p!nk ( so raise your glass if you are wrong in all the right ways. all my underdogs, we will never be, never be anything but loud and nitty, gritty, dirty, little freaks. won't you come on and come on and raise your glass. )
22. LOVING SOMEONE de the 1975 ( just keep hold of their necks and keep selling them sex, it’s better if we keep them perplexed, it's better if we make them want the opposite sex. and i think i should be loving someone. )
23. SMALLTOWN BOY de bronski beat ( you leave in the morning with everything you own in a little black case. alone on a platform, the wind and the rain on a sad and lonely face. mother will never understand why you had to leave, but the answers you seek will never be found at home, the love that you need will never be found at home. run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away. )
24. SLEEP ON THE FLOOR de the lumineers ( forget what father brennan said, we were not born in sin. leave a note on your bed, let your mother know you're safe. pack yourself a toothbrush dear, pack yourself a favorite blouse, take a withdrawal slip, take all of your savings out. 'cause if we don't leave this town, we might never make it out. )
25. READ ALL ABOUT IT (PT. III) de emeli sandé ( maybe we're a little different, there's no need to be ashamed. you've got the light to fight the shadows, so stop hiding it away. i wanna sing, i wanna shout, i wanna scream 'til the words dry out. so put it in all of the papers, i'm not afraid. they can read all about it, read all about it. )
26. BORN THIS WAY de lady gaga ( i'm beautiful in my way, 'cause god makes no mistakes. i'm on the right track, baby, i was born this way. don't hide yourself in regret, just love yourself and you're set. oh there ain't no other way, baby i was born this way. don't be a drag, just be a queen, whether you're broke or evergreen. you're black, white, beige, chola descent, you're lebanese, you're orient. whether life's disabilities, left you outcast, bullied, or teased, rejoice and love yourself today, 'cause baby you were born this way. no matter gay, straight, or bi, lesbian, transgendered life. i'm on the right track baby, i was born to survive. no matter black, white or beige, chola or orient made. i'm on the right track baby, i was born to be brave. )
27. GRACE KELLY de mika ( gotta be green, gotta be mean, gotta be everything more. why don't you like me? why don't you walk out the door! say what you want to satisfy yourself, but you only want what everybody else says you should want. )
28. RAINBOW de kesha ( i used to live in the darkness, dress in black, act so heartless, but now i see that colors are everything. got kaleidoscopes in my hairdo, got back the stars in my eyes, too. but in the dark, i realized this life is short, and deep down, i'm still a child playful eyes, wide and wild. i can't lose hope, what's left of my heart's still made of gold. i found a rainbow, rainbow, baby. trust me, i know life is scary, but just put those colors on, girl, come and paint the world with me tonight. )
29. WE EXIST de arcade fire ( they're walking around, head full of sound, acting like we don't exist. they walk in the room and stare right through you, talking like we don't exist. but we exist. daddy, it's true, i'm different from you, but tell me why they treat me like this? if you turned away what would i say? not the first betrayed by a kiss. maybe it's true, they're staring at you when you walk in the room. tell 'em it's fine, stare if you like, just let us through. they're down on their knees, begging us please, praying that we don't exist. daddy, it's fine, i'm used to 'em now, but tell me why they treat me like this? let 'em stare, let 'em stare, if that's all they can do! )
30. HEAVEN de troye sivan ( the truth runs wild, like a tear down a cheek. trying to save face, and daddy heart break, i'm lying through my teeth. the truth runs wild, like kids on concrete. trying to sedate my mind in its cage and numb what i see. without losing a piece of me how do i get to heaven? without changing a part of me how do i get to heaven? all my time is wasted, feeling like my heart's mistaken, oh. so if i'm losing a piece of me maybe i don't want heaven? )
╰  ❄  feliz navidad y año nuevo, joa.
—; de: andy ( @gidsprewett )
—; para: joa ( @heisgold )
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La verdad es que cada vez que te veo me dan ganas de partirte la madre, estoy hasta la chingada de ti, pinche estúpida. Prometo que cuando te vuelva a ver te voy a dar unos putazos tan fuertes que vas a ir a parar al hospital, ¿cómo la ves, pendejita?
A ver si te gusta este pinche regalo, es gay como tú, y mezclé canciones de Kenta ahora y Kenta antes cuando era darks. Ya sé que su mamá no está, pero con tus dos neuronas intenta cambiarlo a “papá”, ¿okay? Sé que va a ser muy difícil para ti porque estás bien tarada, pero inténtalo. Todavía que una te hace un regalo y tú te pones a chingar, no mames. ¿Qué no puedes ver nada en la contraportada? ¿Y? Lo hice así porque pensé: “Hahahaha, pinche Joanna ciega.” Así que buena suerte intentando leer esas letritas, me importaba más el aesthetic, oops. 
Ten una muy buena pinche vida. Te odio.
...
Te amo muuuuuuuuuuuucho. ¡Feliz Navidad y año nuevo, bebé! Espero poder seguir creciendo contigo y con Ale. Gracias por todo tu apoyo y por nunca, nunca juzgarme. Gracias por darme cachetadas cuando las necesitaba. Gracias por oír hasta las cosas más raras que te digo. Gracias por tu confianza. Gracias por siempre levantarme el ánimo cuando las cosas parecen ir mal, sé que a ambas nos cuesta un poco más las cosas, pero ya verás que iremos superándolo. Estoy muy orgullosa de ti por todo lo que has logrado y por quien eres, así como los cambios que has hecho para bien. Me alegra tanto verte así. Y gracias por siempre seguirme las pendejadas, en especial Wyatt y Anthony. Tu existencia me hace muy feliz y al mismo tiempo me da mucha risa porque recuerdo tu cara y me da risa (?). En verdad que te amo mucho, mucho. Gracias por tanto. Que este año sea aún mejor que el 2018 y continuemos enfrentando todo sin dar pasos atrás.
Con amor,
                                                  — andy. 🎅
1 note · View note
jiyongsaunt · 6 years ago
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1.A Song you’re ashamed of liking
ain’t no arty like an AOMG party by jay park
2. Favorite lyrics
peach by cavetown:
the sky is pouring down
and I think I am too
  I left your bedroom window open
so you’ll wake up to the view
of peachy orange clouds and
morning air in your face,
there’s nothing quite like
opening your eyes to natures embrace
  and I know that there are things
I’ll never understand
but I’ll for sure be right there
next to you with an open hand
  I know a place by conan gray
I know a place we could go I know a place where there aren't any roads where the grass is always greener and doesn't scratch your fingers I know a place
  …
  'cause I know a place we could go far from the highways, far from that home seep in the silence, safe in our minds that we try so hard to control
  cigarette by offonoff (feat. miso, tablo)
come to think of it
love is like a cigarette
burning at the tip of it
but quick to burn out
like a cigarette
it may get you sick
but you'll never get sick of it
so light one up now
  summertime by mcr
every single day when people try
and put the pieces back together
just to smash them down
turn my headphones up real loud
I don’t think I need them now
‘cause you stopped the noise
  …
  ‘cause if you stay I would even wait all night
or until my heart explodes
how long?
until we find our way in the dark and out of harm
you can run away with me
and you can write it on your arm
you can run away with me anytime you want
  when I met u by hateful (cover)
you could still be
what you want to be,
what you said you were
when you met me
3. Favourite band/artist
BTS
day6
jeebanoff
4. Top 5 Favourite songs at this moment
sungbook-gu kids by jeebanoff
cry cry the ospreys (old chinese song)
I know a place by conan gray
nine million bicycles in beijing by katie melua
nan neol saranghae (coffee prince ost)/ fields of gold by sting ICANTDECIDE
5. Latest song that made you smile
forgotten love by aurora
6. An overrated band
fall out boy
7. An overrated song
anything by drake
8. Latest song that made you cry
eternal youth by RÜDE (because it reminded me of china, I miss china..)
9. Artist/band that saved your life
no artist saved my life but day6 did make me happy during a time where I was very unhappy
10. If you could see any band/artist live, who would it be
BTS
11. What song/album/band/artist always brings back memories for you
song: she’s the sunlight
album: sunrise by norah jones
band: panic! at the disco
artist: elvis
12. saddest song you know
expiration date by tablo
13. Favorite song to sing in the shower
crazy milk by dark cat
14. If you played an instrument in grade school, what was it
saxophone
15. What song would you like to have your first dance to at your wedding
reflecting light by sam philips
16. 5 Songs to have sex to
candy by doja cat
partition by beyoncé
call out my name by the weeknd
starboy by the weeknd
I feel it coming by the weeknd
17. One band you’d have get back together/bring back from the dead
not a band but still: DB5K
18. You’re forced to listen to only one album for the rest of your life, what album is it
moonrise by day6
19. A song that gets you through shit
dog days are over by florence + the machine
20. A song to shut everything out
swimming by lunar vacation
21. A song that’s a joke between you and your friends
ispy by kyle feat. lil yachty
22. A song to jam out to at 4am
all night by chance the rapper
23. A song that punches you in the gut every single time
the good side by troye sivan
24. A song that calms you down
sungbook-gu kids by jeebanoff
25. A song that makes you feel alive
freaking out by arizona
26. If you could get any lyrics tattooed, which would you choose
you could still be what you want to be
what you said you were when you met me
27. What band/artist would you get your children addicted to at an early age
BTS
28. Can you play any instruments, if so, which
keyboard a little bit
29. If you could be a member of any band for one show, who would it be
BTS
30. CDs or Vinyls
CDs
31. 25 songs to play at your funeral
blue honey by lunar vacation
nan neol saranghae (coffee prince ost)
live by billie marten
fields of gold by sting
tears in heaven by eric Clapton
gute nacht freunde by reinhard mey
she’s the sunlight
reflecting light by sam philips (my weddingsong)
udaan azaadiyan
I know a place by conan gray
bombombom by lucite tokki
northern wind by city and color
friends for life by the high kings
wolke 4 by philipp dittberner
somewhere only we know by lily allen
everyday with you by IU (cover)
the long way home by norah jones
over the rainbow
paradies by reinhard mey
suspicious minds by elvis
32. What are some song titles that you love
intertwined (dodie)
fields of gold (sting)
all I’ve ever known (Bahamas)
serendipity (bts)
seesaw (bts)
you never walk alone (bts)
33. If your life ended today, what song would you choose to represent it
bombombom by lucite tokki
34. Can you give me a 10 song playlist on summer vibes
blue honey by lunar vacation
away by vacations
déjate llevar by the marías
nova scotia 500 by boyscott
kids by current joys
idle town by conan gray
pizza by oohyo
pretty girl by clairo
rivers bend by the doorbells
this year by beach fossils
35. A heart wrenching song
never sure by erida kola
36. A band/artist you’re proud of
BTS
37. A song that has a lot of meaning to you
freaking out by arizona
38. A song that reminds you of school
I can’t think of any song that reminds me of school, I hated school.
39. A song not sung in your native language
everything I listen to really. I could tell you about 5 songs that I listen to are in my native language:
lieblingsmensch by namika
gute nacht freunde by reinhard mey
narzissen und kakteen by element of crime
wolke 4 by philipp dittberner
40. An instrumental song
eternal youth by RÜDE
41. A classical song
in the mood for love by shigeru umebayashi
42. A song with no percussion
intertwined by dodie
43. Something you’ve heard performed live
untitled (2014) by G-Dragon
44. Something you’d give ANYTHING to hear performed live
Tear by BTS
45. A song from a band/artist that’s from your town/city/state/province
literally no one
46. A song made suddenly precious because of a special someone
freaking out by arizona
47. A song made suddenly painful because of someone special
please never fall in love by ElliAN
48. A song that demands lip syncing and a makeshift microphone
mr. brightside
49. A song from a band/artist you met/know
heroes by mans zermerlöw
50. A song that you would rock at karaoke
I’m still standing (sing ost)
51. A song you can’t help but dance to
dance dance by day6
52. A song that makes you want to dance on a table
baepsae by BTS
53. Your 10 song striper playlist
candy by doja cat
partition by Beyoncé
starboy by the weeknd
me like yuh by jay park
alone tonight by jay park
mommae by jay park
artificial love by exo
playboy by exo
24/7 by david correy
swalla by jason derulo
54. Favourite Disney song
just around the riverbend (Pocahontas)
55. A song that starts with the first letter of your name
just like heaven by katie melua
56. A song from an artist still alive
live by billie marten
57. A song from an artist who’s dead
suspicious minds by elvis
58. A song you love by an artist/band you hate
hotline bling by drake
59. A song you love with a color in the title
green eyes by coldplay
60. A song you love with a number in the title
134340 by BTS
also: Whalien52 by BTS
61. A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about
melting by cuco
62. A song that needs to be played LOUD
i need somebody by day6
63. A song that makes you think about life
taro by alt-j
64. 15 Songs that get suck in your head easily
in my feelings by drake
dance dance by day6
so long by steady holiday
cherry cola by jon kuwada
heavy in your arms by florence + the machine
run by bts
all I wanna do by jay park
idol by bts
save me by bts
baepsae by bts
pluhmm by ha:tfelt
love me right by exo
lucky one by exo
moves like jagger by maroon 5
eyes, nose, lips by taeyang
65. A song that you think everyone should listen to
ddaeng by BTS
66. A song that makes you want to fall in love
light of my life by cvmel
67. A song that makes you think about ‘him/her’
a hindi song called udaan azaadiyan, I think?
68. A song that you remember from your childhood
tears in heaven by eric clapton
69. A song that reminds you of you
she’s the sunlight
70. Okay what’s the real answer to number 1
she’s the sunlight
2 notes · View notes
blooblooded · 3 years ago
Text
Marty goes through Lee's files
Ajax Guttierez’s face was shiny with sweat when he called Marty back. “Man, that was close,” he said. He straightened the collar of his shirt. “I don’t think he suspected anything though. But, what he said in there, at the end...he looked like he wanted to hit me. His eyes went all dead and shit, what a fucking freak.”
“That guy couldn’t punch through wet tissue paper,” replied Marty, as he sat in his chair with his legs drawn up. He had been so stressed out during the period of radio silence where AJ had presumably made copies of every file on Lee Harlan’s laptop that he had snapped every pencil he owned. Not that he had been worried about AJ’s safety. No, he just desperately wanted to figure out whatever it was that Lee was hiding. “You got it right? You got all of it?”
“I got it.”
“Tres bien,” Upon hearing him speak his native language, AJ furrowed his eyebrows. Marty ignored that. “Send it to the email address I gave you. I have a feeling it’s going to take me all night to go through everything.”
“Right.” AJ paused. He passed a hand over his face. “You think there’s something on there that will pin him, get the cops on his ass? Because if there isn’t, if he goes near my kids one more time, I think I’m going to kill him. I’m really going to kill him.”
Would it really be so bad if AJ killed Lee? Marty allowed himself to imagine it, brass knuckles breaking his glasses and smashing his nose. It was the least he deserved, after all the things he knew he had done. Giving underage teenagers alcohol. Messing with Kip’s mind, convincing him to stop taking his medicine. Scaring Esther’s dad, hitting Eddie Bellamy. Making Rome roll up his sleeves to show him the bruises on his body. Probably worse things too. Someone who was capable of doing what he knew Lee had already done, was also capable of doing worse things.
Marty wished he had another pencil to break.
“Yeah,” he said, with finality. “I’ll find something on him. I know that.”
###
It turned out that AJ had copied 500gb of data from Lee’s computer. The process of going through it was taking hours, agonizingly slow work. Determined to work through the night, Marty went into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. He made it quietly so that he didn’t attract Jules, or worse, Dog. Talking to them would only delay his discovery of whatever fucked up shit he knew that Lee must be hiding. Even a small delay would get in the way of the pleasure he would feel when he anonymously sent evidence of Lee’s formerly unknown crimes-- whatever they were-- to every detective in Eden.
Before he returned to his bedroom, he had already drunk half a mug of coffee.
A lot of it was writing. Which tracked, since Lee was always going on and on about being a writer. Or journalist, or whatever he was. There were no journalists in the Northern Territories, so Marty didn’t fully understand all that. To him, it seemed like an unimportant profession. He read a lot of Lee’s work anyway. Maybe it was good-- he had no way of knowing the quality of the writing, since English was not his first language.
Soon, Marty grew bored of reading about Lee’s idiotic political beliefs. Compared to the fiery diatribes he had heard from Florence Gauthier as he had grown up, Lee’s words seemed tepid. He did not know what he was talking about, how could he-- he had not lived what he was talking about. He went to the folder that contained his pictures and clicked through them. The majority were selfies; Lee in various outfits that were increasingly fussy, always tight pants and stupid looking scarves, color coordinated sweaters. What kind of man cared that much about fashion and the way he looked? The vanity. It was basically like being a woman, it was embarrassing and effete.
He continued to click through pictures, and a greater understanding of Lee’s life formed inside his mind. This was a person who cared a lot about appearances, but rarely seemed to have the same friend in more than one picture. He took a lot of pictures of his food, of different coffee drinks. Pictures at various rallies and protests. It all seemed very empty, almost performative.
At one point, he came to a picture of Lee as a child, hugging a woman that was probably his mother. Lee was maybe 10, and lacked the fussy pretension he had developed as an adult-- no, as a child he appeared dweeby and scruffy. His glasses were cracked and there were patches in his jeans. Still, he looked truly happy, smiling a full smile that showed his crooked front teeth, so unlike the sly, closed mouthed smiles of his adulthood. His mother looked a lot like him, same mousy brown hair and eyes. She wore a jean jacket with lots of pins on it, her fist was raised up into the air, Lee’s small fist was raised in mimicry. So this was the mother who had hung herself in prison. It was hard not to feel something for the child who had lost his mother that day.
So Lee had had a mother who had loved him. Marty didn’t know what that was like. Their similarities ended with the shared experience of having mothers who were dead.
As he clicked through hundreds of pictures, he discovered that Lee liked to take pictures of himself and of other guys who were naked. Sex stuff. Marty had heard about people taking pictures with their partners, it wasn’t particularly abnormal, but still gave him a shock the first time he opened a picture to see Lee had taken a nude. Marty stared for a second and felt his ears get hot and embarrassed. Lee looked a lot different without any clothes on, all pink and skinny, but with a little bit of a belly that was otherwise hidden. He had seen naked men before, but was suddenly uncomfortable seeing his enemy in a vulnerable state.
There were a lot of nudes. Of course there were, considering how vain he was. Lee had had a lot of boyfriends, and as with the pictures of his friends, none of them seemed to hang around for very long. Marty suddenly felt uncomfortable. He was looking at pictures that were not meant for him, intimate moments shared between Lee and various strangers. It was voyeuristic, but wasn’t this what he was supposed to be looking at? Surely there was something here, some indication of great perversion? The selfie pictures of Lee, taken while embracing various guys in his bed, didn't resemble him at all. He looked happy.
This was, of course, jealousy. Marty knew that he would never be able to have it, but he desired love and intimacy with another boy someday. This was not a possibility in his Colony. Seeing someone he hated have something unattainable was hurting him.
He drank the rest of his coffee, telling himself to pull it together. There was no reason for him to feel jealous.
There was no reason for him to feel the other shameful thing either: a strange, hateful attraction towards Lee. Marty pushed that down, chalking it up to being 13 years old and sexually frustrated due to puberty.
There was a picture of AJ in there too. Marty wished he hadn’t seen that.
Of course, there were also videos. Marty knew the content of these from glancing at the first frozen frame. He did not believe he had the mental fortitude to watch them yet. This was also not completely abnormal. Being 13 years old and completely wracked by puberty, he had watched a lot of pornography, but it was different when it was someone he knew. Eventually he would have to watch them, he just hoped that his brain wouldn’t be into it.
This was all normal. If Lee was just a normal guy, just a weird guy who had never done anything wrong, then this was all for nothing. He had convinced AJ to steal the data for nothing.
But it couldn’t be nothing. Lee was hiding something. Marty kept clicking through files. The night grew longer. He made more coffee, careful so that he would not wake Jules.
By 2am, he discovered something bad enough to make him grit his teeth, but not bad enough to send to the police. Or was it? He didn’t know. It appeared that when Lee had cornered Rome Prospas, claiming to be concerned about him, he had taken several pictures of him. Maybe this had been out of concern, or as evidence to send to social services, but it didn’t sit right with Marty. It didn’t seem normal. And Rome looked scared.
He had known that it had happened when Rome had been by himself in Kip’s bathroom. He knew that Lee had seemed worried and had asked Rome to roll up his sleeves to show him the bruises that had formed on his arms after his dad had grabbed him. But seeing pictures of his friend looking all scared like that made Marty feel angry. There were three pictures. In the first, Rome’s big yellow eyes were watery, looking directly at the camera, or directly into Lee’s face, with his arms held out in front of him. The other two were close ups on the purple bruising, and one of Lee’s white thumbs was visible, as if for scale. So Lee had put his hands on him. Marty felt himself bristling, knowing that Rome was more scared of Lee than he was of his dad. At least he knew what to expect when it came to his dad.
It was bad, it was, that Lee had been alone with a kid and made him roll up his sleeves, then took pictures of him. But it wasn’t bad enough. It wasn’t like he had told him to take off his shirt or had done anything that could not be filed away under the category of ‘concerned, responsible adult’. Marty kept gritting his teeth. He thought about calling Rome and checking in on him, but didn’t want to give the wrong impression, calling in the middle of the night. Rome liked Marty a little too much.
Still, it was something. Marty grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the file names, just in case.
Another hour passed before Marty found anything of note. What he did find made him feel even more upset.
It was a video, like the others. And like the others, Marty would have clicked past it, if Kip had not been so clearly in the first frame.
For a second, Marty saw red and he clenched one hand into a fist. All this time, he had known that Kip was obsessed with Lee, that he would do anything to make him like him more. It was evident in the way that he looked at him, in the way that he was always talking about him like he was some kind of genius. In his heart, Marty knew that Kip wanted to sleep with Lee, but up until now, he had believed that Kip was too scared and inexperienced to follow through. If they had done anything, if they had messed around, surely Kip would have bragged about it to at least one of his friends. He was not a person who was capable of keeping secrets. Why the silence? Was he ashamed?
Marty’s finger hesitated over the mouse. If he watched a video of Kip having sex with Lee, he would never be able to look at his friend the same way. And of course, deep down in his most private thoughts, Marty often found himself wishing that he lived in Eden, because maybe, one day, Kip would see him as more than just a friend. If he lived in Eden, maybe one day Kip might touch him or kiss him, maybe more. It wasn’t like the constant low-level horniness that every teenage boy experienced. Marty liked Kip. He really liked him, and it was his first time really liking anyone. He didn’t want to see him being intimate with anyone.
But he also wanted to screw over Lee in any way he could. If there was anything weird on this video, anything at all and even though Kip was 18 years old, he could send it to Kip’s mom. Kip would hate him forever, but at least Lee would be out of the picture.
He pressed play and steeled himself to watch something that he knew would upset and horrify him.
Lee held the camera and pointed it down at Kip, who knelt on the floor in front of him. Kip still had all of his clothes on. In the dim light of Lee’s apartment, his face was shadowed and the dark circles under his eyes were exaggerated, making him look sick. He was smiling nervously.
“You still want to do this?” asked Lee. Hearing his voice, so smug and self-satisfied, made Marty’s heart pound. Hate. He hated him. It would be easy to stop watching this, he knew he needed to stop watching this, but could not bring himself to turn it off.
Kip nodded. “Uh-huh. I want to. It’s just-- I don’t know how--”
“It’s OK.” At the bottom of the screen, Marty could see Lee unzip his trousers and pull his dick out, jerking himself off to get hard. Marty could hear his own blood pounding in his head as he watched this and was aware of how hard he was clenching his teeth. He shouldn’t be watching this, it was like a train wreck he couldn’t look away from. “Put your hand here.”
His friend’s face was eager, but unsure, and Marty watched Kip’s eyes glaze over as he clumsily fondled Lee. He had seen this before. One minute, Kip would be there, the next, he had a thousand-yard stare and was blank, like he was somewhere far away. The only times that Kip got like that were when he was scared or upset. Marty would have strangled Lee for not noticing that, for being too stupid and wrapped up in himself to notice that. How could you not notice that?
If he sent this to Kip’s mom, it would be all over.
“OK, good,” Lee was saying, and he was putting his hand on the back of Kip’s head to pull his face towards his crotch. “Good. Now, please don’t bite me.” He laughed, like he was laughing at Kip or making fun of him, making fun of his teeth. Marty’s mind was filled with hate.
Light suddenly gleamed back into Kip’s eyes, which widened in alarm. He jerked away from Lee with great strength, scooted back on the floor, then stood up, shaking, his arms held defensively in front of him. He shook his head several times. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked in alarm. “Don’t touch me! Stay away from me!” He wiped his hand on his pants, watching Lee like a wild animal.
“Kip?” Lee asked. “What’s wrong?”
Kip hit his own head. He looked at Lee savagely. “Were you gonna try to fuck me?” he asked. “Huh? You fucking freak. Are you kidding me? I’m your friend! I’m your friend! Who does that? Huh?”
“If you don’t want to do this, it’s OK, I don’t want you to feel upset, I just--”
Kip’s face contorted when he looked at the communication device that was still trained on him. “Don’t fucking film me!” The camera was suddenly obscured by opaque blue, and the video ended.
For several moments, Marty sat there without moving. “What the fuck,” he said, confused by his friend’s sudden mood swing, but glad that he had seemed to come to his senses before he got in over his head and lost his virginity to a loser like Lee Harlan. “What the fuck.”
It was disturbing. He leaned back in his chair. 4:30 am. In the kitchen, he could hear Jules rustling around, she always woke up so early, she always had so much to do. The smart thing would be to try and get some sleep so that he could look through Lee’s files with fresh eyes. When he did not get enough sleep, he was more prone to seizures. But he also had so much to do.
Marty rubbed his face. He did not want to make himself sick and exhausted, but still did not want to go to sleep. A sense of dogged determination had overtaken him at this point. A singular desire to destroy a man who lived hundreds of miles away was his only thought. If he could get something on Lee, he could ensure that his friends were no longer bothered by him. They were unable to see him for what he truly was. They were unable to do anything about his presence in their lives; by some method of psychic charisma, Lee had pulled a blind over all of their eyes. But not Marty’s.
This was not his responsibility. He was just a kid.
Sleep was not an option. Marty clicked out of the pictures and went back to Lee’s writing.
Meaningless words and treatises on economics bored him to tears but he kept reading, reading and reading. Finished articles, works in process. Grocery lists. Journal entries. The private life of a man whose true face was kept carefully hidden. By now, Marty knew him about as well as he knew himself.
He had been right about him. For the most part. He had been right about how he was shallow and angry, someone who wanted to lash out at systems that he perceived as unfair, but was mostly helpless to do so. This was not so much different than the types of people Marty had grown up around during the civil war, except Lee lacked the power of will that they all had to make considerable changes.
To make true change, a person had to act in ways that were drastic. Lee did not have it in him.
That’s what Marty believed, anyway, until he found a receipt for the purchase of 200 pounds of nitrate fertilizer.
As Marty looked at this receipt, the only thing that struck him as odd was the knowledge that Eden was completely underground, and had no space for large scale agriculture. Most of the food that they ate there was grown from cells in laboratories, unless someone had enough money to buy the rare real stuff. And Lee was a writer with no interest in things that could grow. Why would he even need fertilizer?
Something inside of him became scared and he didn’t know why. What could someone do with that much fertilizer? Marty leaned back in his chair.
Something bad, that’s what. He thought back to the nonsensical vision he had had a few weeks ago of buildings in Eden crumbling onto streets below. It hadn’t made sense then. Now, the vague memories of listening to Florence’s Partisans talk about the improvised explosive devices they had set beneath roads the Royalist armies marched down came flooding back to him. A few years ago, they had blown up a school with a home-made explosive. Bombs. You could blow stuff up with fertilizer. You couldn’t do it well, but you could do it.
That was crazy. Lee didn’t have it in him to actually hurt people. He was a creep, and he had crazy political beliefs, but he was not a killer. Marty had grown up around killers. He could see it in their dead eyes. Men like Field Marshal Anatole Surkhov had killed dozens. Reed Kimble was a killer. Even Beatrice Kosarin had killed, and she was only a woman. Lee lacked what they had. He was just some dorky, creepy journalist with ideas that were too big for him.
But what would he be doing with that much fertilizer?
Anxiety grew inside of him. This was crazy. He had started the night looking for proof that Lee was some kind of sex criminal, found nothing, and now had made himself so paranoid that he was starting to think he was some kind of terrorist. This was what lack of sleep and stress were doing to him. Marty got up and left his bedroom so that he could reset his brain.
In the kitchen, Jules was busy cooking breakfast. She still wore her shapeless undershift that she slept in, and her limp black hair was unbraided. She clattered around at an alarming speed, stirring a pot of oatmeal and frying eggs as the coffee pot squealed. When she saw Marty, she glared at him.
“You stayed up all night again on that computer,” she said accusingly, and crossed her skinny arms in front of her like a bat. They spoke French at home, and Marty’s mind subconsciously made the change away from English. “Really? I don’t understand why you do that to yourself, Mari, I don’t understand why you don’t take care of yourself. Sit down, what do you want to eat?”
Marty sat down at the table numbly, images of explosions replaying in his head. Jules tried to smooth down his fluffy hair and he flinched away from her. He hated people touching his head. It was 5 am.
“I worry about you,” said the gristle-sharp woman who had raised him. “What happens if you have another big seizure and I’m not there, huh? The Prime Minister has me working at the hospital in Ill de Matane too much, I’ll see if she’ll let me stay here with you more.”
“I’m not sick. You don’t have to do that.”
“I’ll do it if I want to.”
Explosions. There was no way that Lee would do that. He was a bad person but he wasn’t that bad. Marty suddenly felt like laughing.
Jules poured steaming coffee into 3 unmatching, chipped mugs. She watched him. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
“You look upset.”
Marty took a cup of coffee from her and didn’t answer. His brain felt like it wasn’t working anymore, the way it got when he was overstimulated. In an hour or so, Ayda would wake up for school and he could talk to her about this. She would be able to talk some sense into him. Ayda was good at that. He drank the coffee and felt it warm him from the inside.
Dog, the big quiet man who lived with them in the quarters that Florence Gauthier had so… generously given to them on her vast estate, came into the kitchen, sensing that breakfast was almost ready. His weak chin and round eyes made him appear nervously rabbit-like, despite being almost seven feet tall and broad shouldered. He sat down next to Marty and Jules handed him a cup of coffee without a word.
There was something going on between Dog-- Ivan Kosarin-- and Jules, and Marty didn’t like it. Sometimes Jules would say things to make Dog blush, or sometimes he would put one big hand on her lower back. Marty accepted that she had a life outside of being a sort of elder sister figure in his life, but he still worried. When he watched Jules rattle around the kitchen, cooking breakfast for more than just the two of them, it made him worried that she would get hurt. Yes, Dog was a gentle person and had never given Marty any reason to distrust him. Except--
“You fought with Florence’s Partisans,” Marty said, directly to Dog. Although he had known him since he was 6, they rarely spoke to one another. “When the fighting was bad.”
Dog seemed taken aback by Marty’s blunt question. Both his hands grasped his mug of coffee. “I followed the Blue Army.”
“Right. Surkhov fought alongside the Partisans.”
“Mari,” scolded Jules. Her mouth twisted in distaste.
“So you know all about Partisan tactics.”
Dog’s watery eyes moved from his mug of coffee and up to Jules, then back. His mouth tightened. The war was not something often discussed in this household, although it had raged for nearly a decade. Even now, the dead king’s Loyalists still gathered in the Hinterland forests.
Jules shook her head. “This isn’t something to talk about at breakfast. Florence Gauthier’s men were- are-- animals, she had no control over them. Why are you even thinking about this, Mari? You spend too much time looking at that computer. Eat.”
But Marty could not eat. “Ivan,” he said, using Dog’s given name, the name that he despised, his voice accelerating with emotion. “Three years ago, when that school was bombed in Ille de Matane--“
The mere mention of the act made Dog’s face turn white. Marty had only been 10 at the time, but he could remember hearing about how Anatole Surkhov and his men had dug through the rubble for two days, looking for survivors. The Partisans had been disbanded immediately after that, and Florence had hung many of her own people. At 10 years old, his imagination had held onto the images of little kids getting blown to bits. Now, he could only think of the same thing happening in Eden.
Lee Harlan was no Partisan, no desperate soldier. Or was he?
He continued: “They used bombs they built themselves, right? They used fertilizer because the embargo made gunpowder so scarce.”
The coffee was scalding hot but Dog drank it anyway. There were lines under his eyes. “People will use whatever they can get their hands on when they are desperate and angry,” he said carefully. Behind him, Jules fiddled with a crystal she wore around her neck, movements tense. “That’s-- it’s over now. That was a horrible time, it should have never happened. The Prime Minister should have never let that happen. I don’t know why you’re thinking about it. It’s over.”
“I just want to know how it works.”
“Ammonium nitrate can be manufactured from fertilizer.” Jules was growing angry, maybe even protective over her friend. She shook her head and made the sign against evil, her thumb pressed to her blackened middle and ring fingers. “It’s easy to make, even for an idiot. That’s why it’s so dangerous. Gauthier’s men annihilated that school with only 30 kilograms of ANFO, they stole it from a farm and were able to build a bomb that killed 24 children the next week. Is that what you wanted to know, Mari? You should feel blessed for the privilege of not knowing these things. The war is ending, we don’t have to think about this anymore. Eat your breakfast.”
Easy to make, even for an idiot.
Marty felt very sick. He stood up and realized that his knees were shaking. Suddenly, all he could think about was the people he cared about in Eden. Ayda. Kip. Rome. All he could think about was how far he was from them, how helpless he was to do anything if something went wrong.
Easy to make, even for an idiot…
This was wrong, of course it was. He was being paranoid, crazy. He had no reason to think that Lee would do something like that, or be involved with something like that. This paranoia was the byproduct of his obsessive thoughts, of his constant fixation on Lee Harlan. In trying to sniff out something that he had done wrong, he had created problems in his mind. Problems that didn’t exist.
But Marty had been right about things before. He had seen things before, things that ended up happening. He thought about the vision he had had, the vision where huge buildings crumbled into chunks.
He got up from the table and did not realize that he had knocked over his mug of coffee. Both Dog and Jules jumped, looked at him like he was crazy.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jules demanded. “Mari, you have to eat.”
Suddenly delirious, suddenly sick, he shook his head, pushing his way back to his bedroom and his devices. “No,” he said. “No, I have to call someone. I have to call Kip.”
0 notes
electroma89 · 7 years ago
Note
Yah, you know what you gotta do (answerallofthem)
Oh woman for the love of god! (Jk thanks!)
1. What is you middle name?: Camila (don’t like it not gonna lie)
2. How old are you?: 283. When is your birthday?: 30/11
4. What is your zodiac sign?: Sagittarius (yeah as if all the astrological garbage I reblog didn’t give it away ha)
5. What is your favorite color?: Purple, Black
6. What’s your lucky number?: I’ve been dreaming with 213 lately so
7. Do you have any pets?: My dog Peludo (he’s turning 17 next month omfg, my little fluffy grandpa)
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8. Where are you from?: Santiago de Chile
9. How tall are you?: Last time I checked: 1,63 cm
10. What shoe size are you?: Idk about measurements in other countries, but here in Chile I buy #40, and in Mexico I bought #6 (so in conclusion, my feet are big)11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?: Oh boy, I don’t want anyone to imagine this huge fancy closet bc I despise high heels, I own mostly sneakers or combat boots. That anda a few espadrilles make like… Mmm let’s say… 30?
12. What was your last dream about?: I remember the feeling, I was super happy (that’s why I was so annoyed when my pone woke me) but I can remember anything else!
13. What talents do you have?: Memorizing random shit counts?
14. Are you psychic in any way?: No (to my inner Carrie: if you’re in there, time to get out bitch)
15. Favorite song?: What kind of evil question is this!? (anyway I made a 90′s playlist so you can get an idea
16. Favorite movie?: Howl’s Moving Castle
17. Who would be your ideal partner?: Someone who can be my best friend and partner in crime
18. Do you want children?: Lmao no
19. Do you want a church wedding?: LMAO no
20. Are you religious?: I’m spiritual, I think is part of every human (even if it’s just a small part) but I’m not religious
21. Have you ever been to the hospital?: Yup, my appendix exploded when I was 5.
22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?: No, but maybe in the next four years bc shitty president
23. Have you ever met any celebrities?: Ok why don’t you just rip my heart outta my chest?
24. Baths or showers?: I don’t have a bathub, so no choice for me
25. What color socks are you wearing?: Socks? In this economy? (It’s 28°C rn)
26. Have you ever been famous?: Yeah I have 631 followers I’m famous af
27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?: Maybe in the music industry
28. What type of music do you like?: Rock, metal, j pop (yeah you read that right), folklore
29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?: No but I want to
30. How many pillows do you sleep with?: 2
31. What position do you usually sleep in?: On my side, hand under the pillow
32. How big is your house?: The average latino house is rather small for our bigs families, but you know that
33. What do you typically have for breakfast?: Mug of tea with milk, cheese and ham snadwich, a few cookies
34. Have you ever fired a gun?: I don’t live in the USA lol
35. Have you ever tried archery?: No, would be cool tho
36. Favorite clean word?: encachao
37. Favorite swear word?: conchetumare
38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?: 3 days (I studied architecture so yeah)
39. Do you have any scars?: Appendicitis, and a few in my arms
40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?: Nah
41. Are you a good liar?: Mostly
42. Are you a good judge of character?: Not lately
43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?: Latinos live for that, you know, we have so many accents in the same language
44. Do you have a strong accent?: When I speak english? Yeah ofc
45. What is your favorite accent?: I do the spaniard accent a lot
46. What is your personality type?: INTJ
47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?: A pair of golden boots
48. Can you curl your tongue?: Yup
49. Are you an innie or an outie?: As if I like being indoors? Yes, but not everyday
50. Left or right handed?: Right
51. Are you scared of spiders?: No
52. Favorite food?: Charquicán
53. Favorite foreign food?: Picadas, tacos al pastor, come to me!!!
54. Are you a clean or messy person?: Clean with an orginazed chaos
55. Most used phrased?: “O sea obvio, valor”
56. Most used word?: oye
57. How long does it take for you to get ready?: 1 ½ hour, shower included
58. Do you have much of an ego?: Perhaps, there are people who confuse ego with self love tho
59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?: Suck bc braces
60. Do you talk to yourself?: When I’m alone
61. Do you sing to yourself?: Yup
62. Are you a good singer?: I’ll say I’m average but I like my voice
63. Biggest Fear?: Floods are my tw
64. Are you a gossip?: No I hate it
65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?: Truman Show is one of my faves
66. Do you like long or short hair?: Short, but I’m letting my hair grow, ironic ik
67. Can you name all 50 states of America?: Why would I?
68. Favorite school subject?: English, arts
69. Extrovert or Introvert?: Introvert at first
70. Have you ever been scuba diving?: I wish
71. What makes you nervous?: Driving (it’s more of a anxiety attack kinda thing)
72. Are you scared of the dark?: Sometimes
73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?: All the time
74. Are you ticklish?: Yeah, my bf know and takes advantage of that omg
75. Have you ever started a rumor?: No
76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?: Being leader in my project group counts?
77. Have you ever drank underage?: My first beer was at 13 (pretty lame brand tho)
78. Have you ever done drugs?: Alcohol is a drug
79. Who was your first real crush?: A friend I made in my summer vacations
80. How many piercings do you have?: The usual in my ears
81. Can you roll your Rs?“: I’m latino ofc I can
82. How fast can you type?: Not really fast since I’m a bit dyslexic and now I have acrilic nails so it’s even worse
83. How fast can you run?: I can’t run for my life lol
84. What color is your hair?: Brown
85. What color is your eyes?: BROWN
86. What are you allergic to?: seasonal allergies
87. Do you keep a journal?: Used to, I burned them tho lol
88. What do your parents do?: My mom works in an office as a receptionist
89. Do you like your age?: Yes, I feel like I’m 24 tho
90. What makes you angry?: When no one takes me seriously (when I’m being serious ofc)
91. Do you like your own name?: My first name, yes
92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?: When I was younger, but I forgot
93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?: Lmao do you ask a nonbinary person this type of question? LOL
94. What are you strengths?: I’m not sure if I have any
95. What are your weaknesses?: No patience, always optimistic
96. How did you get your name?: My mom wanted to give me a name that sounded “big and important”
97. Were your ancestors royalty?: This is the whitest question ever, I can really track my ancestors bc, you know, invasion, conquest, genocide and rape?
98. Do you have any scars?: Again!?
99. Color of your bedspread?: White and purple
100. Color of your room?: Light blue (I hate it)
(Te agregué una selfie de Peludo así que mas te vale leerlo todo)
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