#this dude was big and burly and he had just come from outside

[lehguru]

GYM (STAFF) CRUSH + RORONOA ZORO

getting a part-time job at your local gym during the summer sounded like a good idea. the guy you've been eyeing for months thought the same thing.

info: my submission to the help wanted! collab hosted by the @interstellar-inn!! its been sum time since i last wrote sum this big sob. wc 1.5k — warnings: gym talk, a gym goer is a bit of an weirdo towards reader, swearing || ko-fi

if you focused enough, you could see the heat waves coming from the asphalt outside. the sun seemed unbearable—you felt bad for the people that left their cars in the parking lot—, but the air conditioner hitting you right in the back of your neck ensured you were comfortable. as you were typing away in the reception computer, pretending to do the spreadsheet the manager asked you to fill (before she simply left, the surfboard on top of her car a good clue to where she went), you lost yourself in the song playing on the loud speakers.

fortunately, you managed to put your playlist on that day. All the songs playing not only were the ones you listened to while working out, but also were your favorites to daydream with too. while you were softly dancing and shaking your head to the beats, you didn’t notice one of your coworkers approaching you.

the burly man rested his forearms against the counter, his gray eyes started to watch your movements and one of his eyebrows raised. you finally turned around, you wanted to get some documents to actually submit something to the spreadsheet, and jumped back, one of your hands coming to rest against your chest. your eyes locked into his cold ones, your cheeks immediately heating up. his eyes narrowed for a split second; if you weren’t staring at his face, that would’ve escaped you.

“dude! you scared me!” you took a deep breath, trying to ignore the heavy gaze staring at you.

“sorry,” he muttered, his deep voice making it sound almost like a growl. he placed a clipboard in front of you, the title ‘storage’ making you hum softly. “the inventory and stuff we need to buy.”

you nodded, thanking him quietly and smiling at him. the man didn’t smile back. he never did, anyway. he nodded and turned around, walking back inside the gym and leaving you with your inner turmoil. as you sighed loudly and turned to the computer again, you tried to focus on the work.

getting a summer job wasn’t a bad idea. as a college student, you could use some extra money for emergencies—even if you knew you would end up spending it anyway, it was still extra money. your local gym had some job openings and you, someone who went there everyday, thought it was a good idea to send an application. it was indeed a good idea, the job was easy, you could stay in a cool environment while the heat outside seemed to cook you alive, plus it paid you enough. the only problem was that he had the same idea.

roronoa zoro was your gym crush for a while. you were convinced he was everyone’s gym crush, though. throughout the couple of months since the first time you saw him—you still remember how your eyes widened seeing his broad back flexing during pull ups—, you noticed that you both went to the gym at the same time and, fortunately, sometimes your workout would match his. the longest interaction you two had, before starting to work together, was him asking if you were done with using a specific bench. you murmured a quick and embarrassed ‘yes’, almost tripping over your own feet in the process, and he just nodded, taking your place in the bench as you walked to your next exercise.

you thought that having to see you almost everyday would make him open up, but the green haired man always kept you at arms length, never letting you past the ‘we are coworkers’ wall. you sighed once again, frowning slightly and erasing another random line of letters you typed to look busy. a small cough and an ‘excuse me’ took your attention from the screen, from your thoughts as well, and you turned around, hoping to see zoro standing there. unfortunately, it was one of the guys that always caused some kind of trouble around the gym—your manager didn’t really care enough to kick him out or even give him a warning.

you put on your best customer service smile and blinked sweetly at him. “yes, sir? how may i help you?” you said, trying to not sound like you wanted him gone… which you did.

“can you change the music or something?” he said, placing his hands on the counter and leaning towards you, almost as if he was trying to intimidate you. you raised your eyebrows at his behavior and he carried on, not caring about your reaction. “i forgot my headphones, so i have to listen to what you guys play.”

the smile on your face faltered for a second. the urge to just tell him off, say that him forgetting his headphone wasn't your problem, overwhelmed you quickly; biting your tongue, you answered:

“unfortunately, there's nothing we can do. the playlist is selected by the staff and—”

“you're staff, you can change it then.” he cut you off and smirked, making you almost roll your eyes. “c'mon, this playlist fucking sucks. anything will be better.”

before any other word could escape his crusty lips, a voice you grew used to interjected into the conversation. “i like this playlist.”

you both turned to look at zoro and you bit your lower lip to hide a smile. your coworker was looking terrifying; his arms were crossed, his biceps and shoulders seemed like they were about to burst open the black sleeve of his shirt, and the absolute angry gaze he shot at the man—who was now cowering a little—made you almost feel bad for him.

“is there any problem, sir?” you placed a hand over your mouth, trying to hide your giggle in a subtle way. if you looked at zoro, you would see how the corner of his lips curve up for a moment.

the guy shook his head and put his hands up, slowly backing away from the counter and leaving through the front door. as soon as he left, you allowed a soft chuckle to escape your lips. before you could thank zoro, or call the other guy an asshole, the man in front of you murmured loud enough for you to hear:

“fuckin’ asshole.” he turned to look at you. a deep breath made his chest wave up and down, your eyes flicking from that movement back to his eyes. “you good?”

you nodded. the muscles on his jaw flexed and roronoa opened his lips slightly, as if he was about to say something, but he closed them again. you wish you could be inside his mind, the curiosity of what he wanted to say made you lean forward; you hoped it would make him want to say.

instead, he uncrossed his arms and rubbed the back of his head. “i will be in the back.”

you felt a little bit…disappointed. you hoped he would stay there and talk to you a little more. the situation you just went through was shitty, but it made him stand up for you. you wanted him to stay there, to use the situation as an excuse to be with you for the rest of your shift, but you just nodded.

“i— your buzz cut looks nice.” you blurted out of nowhere, making you want to slap yourself in the face. you prayed he wouldn't notice your embarrassment.

if he did, he didn't mention it. he just chuckled, a deep and husky sound that almost made you giggle again, and growled a ‘thanks’.

as you tried to settle back into your work, you couldn't shake off the small feeling that settled in the pit of your stomach. it wasn't necessarily bad, it just…annoyed you. having the man as your gym crush was already annoying, how would you work with him if you had a real crush? you felt your face heating up even more, but you were pulled away from your thoughts by zoro himself; not even five minutes after he left, he came back to the reception.

“actually…” he started, his eyebrows furrowing. “do you want to work out with me tomorrow?”

the way your eyes widened gave out your surprise, but you quickly answered. “su— sure!” you licked your lips—you were obvious to the way he followed the movement with his eyes and licked his own lips—and sighed. “but the manager did say that thing about ‘no workplace relationships’... not that this would be a relationship, i mean—”

“fuck the manager.” he growled, shutting you instantly. you smiled with joy at his audacity, you wanted to say the same out loud for a while. “see you at the same hour tomorrow, then?”

you nodded. “yeah. same hour.”

he nodded too and walked away, this time a big smirk—it was your first time seeing anything like that—stamped on his face. you scoffed. did you seriously let him defend you and be the one to take the first step?

well…at least that gave you a push to be the one to initiate a kiss.

2024 © content belongs to lehguru, do not repost, translate or feed it into ai without permission

[reginaldqueribundus]

ok apologies in advance for the long post but for the benefit of any non-Trekkies or Trekkies who haven't watched multiple Star Treks, please allow me to elucidate the hilarious tale of The Klingons and Their Foreheads.

It's 1966. Star Trek is just a newbie sci-fi show and not a multimedia juggernaut cultural icon yet. Captain Kirk and Mister Spock need some bad guys to fight, but it's the 60s and they have a makeup budget of $3 which they already spent on Spock's ears. So here come the Klingons! but like most of the “aliens” on the show they look basically human — just a buncha grouchy dudes with fu manchus and scary eyebrows.

fast-forward to the late Seventies. Star Trek is now a bona fide phenomenon. they're making it into a movie. and the Klingons are very popular — even today they're the most memeable, recognizable part of the franchise. So of course they're gonna be in the first-ever Star Trek movie. And hey, it's a big studio film, we got some cash to throw around, so we'll give the Klingons a makeover. Turn em into big burly fellas with sharp teeth, shaggy hair and huge boney foreheads.

imagine being a fan and going from the left pic to the right, with no warning or explanation. fans were actually pretty chill about it (possibly because they didn't have the internet yet) and kinda shrugged and said “Star Trek has more money now, so it's great that they can make the Klingons look more alien.” Someone asked Gene Roddenberry (the guy who invented Star Trek) about it and he said fans could pretend the Klingons had always had ridges on the show, if they wanted, or not. And Klingons would look pretty much the same for the next 20 years:

so everything's cool. one of the shows (Deep Space Nine) even brings back a couple of the same Klingon characters from the classic 1960s Star Trek, and they have ridges and no one comments on it. But then they do a time travel episode where they go back into an episode of the 60s show, using actual footage from the episode (it's the tribble one btw) and this one has a lot of Klingons in it. But the DS9 crew have their Klingon buddy Worf with them (he's the guy on the left in that last pic). And this is the late 90s so they can't just CGI new foreheads on all the old-school Klingons. The difference is glaringly obvious and someone asks Worf about it, and he Fight Clubs them all and says “We do not discuss it with outsiders.” LOL.

So that's that, right? Nothing further needs to be said.

It's the early 2000s and Star Trek is GOING WHERE MY HEART WILL TAKE ME doing a prequel now, all taking place ~100 years before the original 60s show. Klingons are in the very first episode, and they look pretty much the same as they have since the 80s. All is well. then in the 4th (and last) season, along comes a multi-episode story arc about *deep breath* the Klingons stealing corpses of dead human supersoldiers to make super-Klingons but then they accidentally create a new COVID variant that somehow gives them all human DNA and melts away their forehead ridges for the next hundred years.

The next time the Klingons showed up was a deleted scene in the 2009 Star Trek movie which dodged the question by putting all the Klingons in face-concealing helmets. In the 2013 sequel a Klingon takes his helmet off and yup, he has ridges. (Though these movies do take place in an alternate universe…)

It's 2017. The new show Star Trek: Discovery has just debuted. The Klingons are the main antagonists of the first season. Hooray! You turn it on and you see this:

ok. this look is a bit busy, but you could probably get away with it if this is the far future or these are some kind of offshoot Klingons who— What's that? This is set only ten years before the original show you say? well I'm sure the fans will react normally.

Arrested Development narrator: they did not react normally.

You had fans flipping their shit because the Klingons didn't have human heads like in the 60s, and other fans flipping their shit because they didn't look like the ones from the past 30 years. and weirdly the thing they were most pissed about was the Klingons being BALD. so in season 2 the showrunners said “ohh, actually the Klingons were all shaving their heads this whole time” and slapped wigs on top of the huge makeup headpieces they'd built,

(unrelated but they also made the actors deliver all their lines in the Klingon language, with big fake monster teeth and no ADR so every conversation sounded like this: “Axxgh mrfgh shkkfch krrrf btchgfhfgl. Scrrx? Bachggggch mffrfrflgh!” they were aiming for Game of Thrones and got Swedish Chef)

they also tried to say this was a group of Klingons we'd never seen before, but that kinda went out the window when they showed the Klingon government and they all looked like this. and none of the shows have dared to have a live action Klingon since!

so next time you think your fandom is the silliest, remind yourself that the simple question “what does a Klingon look like?” requires like 2 paragraphs of explanation and will probably make a neckbeard mad.

[bffsoobin]

Apartment 370

↳everything about your apartment was perfect. Aside from your neighbor. Choi Soobin has become the bane of your existence. You can’t go a single day without looking over your shoulder for your misleadingly handsome neighbor. Just how many petty pranks does he think he can get away with?

➤ enemies to lovers!au, neighbors!au, arguments, petty behavior, swearing, fluff

Word Count: 3,062

Requested?: yes

Warnings: none really other than swearing and Soobin kind of being an ass. I also didn’t proof read or edit this, as per usual.

A/N: To be honest I’m feeling a little unsure about this? I loved the concept and I’m very glad that a lovely follower requested it but I feel like lately all of my writing has started out really well and then just got progressively worse? Like all of the endings I write are just kind of lame? Just a weird insecurity I’ve been encountering lately. So please leave me some feedback on what you think about this!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

You loved your apartment. It was small, but just right for you to live in. The shower had hot water, your bedroom had a beautiful window for your plants to sit on and the wifi connection was always working well. You even only had to travel up two flights of stairs if your elevator stopped working. There were a lot of pros to living at your complex. But there was one, massive, glaring and obnoxiously loud con. Choi Soobin. When he had moved in next to you, you tried to be nice. You knocked on his door and introduced yourself; making some kind of lame joke about borrowing sugar. 

He didn’t laugh. He just introduced himself back and apologized for not having any sugar. Apologized? Had he really missed the joke that bad? Your delivery had been impeccable. Despite his charming face and annoyingly adorable style, you decided there was no way you could be friends with someone who didn’t understand a classic joke. 

Soobin must have decided there was a reason he didn’t like you either, because just about a week into being neighbors he began to wreak havoc. He played music as loud as it possibly could be at the weirdest times of the day and yelled at his television way too much no matter what he was watching. It seemed like every day you had to storm over and knock on his door to complain. This went on for weeks until he finally agreed to stop when you threatened to involve your burly landlord in the matter. 

For a few days, you enjoyed peace and quiet. You came and went from work without seeing him, took naps in silence and remembered how it felt to cook in your own kitchen without the sound of a twenty something year old man screaming at reruns of Survivor as background music. 

As they say, ignorance is bliss, because little did you know Soobin’s silence was about to erupt into a new, massive volcano of stupidity. One night you woke up around 4 am to the sound of scratching coming from the wall that connected your and Soobin’s bedrooms. You were already annoyed at the fact that you had to be up at 7am to pick up an early shift for your slacking coworker, so you didn’t have it in you to just roll over and go back to bed. You couldn’t have if you wanted to anyway because the scratching noises were only getting more and more persistent. You flung yourself out of bed with a groan. Pets were allowed here, and it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Soobin had gotten a cat who decided to be a little extra scratchy. 

You poured yourself a glass of water in the kitchen, hoping to clear your mind and sort your thoughts. In the silence of the night, you could hear Soobin’s panicked voice through the thin walls. It sounded like he was on the phone with someone, as you could hear pauses as if he were listening to someone else. What a weird fucking dude, you thought. With eyes still drooping you walked back to your bedroom. The cat would have to be done scratching at the wall by now, right?

Wrong. The same consistent noise that would surely haunt your dreams still persisted. Knowing Soobin was awake gave you enough grounds to throw on a sweatshirt over your sleep clothes and go knock on his door. 

When it swung open, you could see just how distraught he was. His usually fluffy hair was flat and knotted and his eyes were sporting huge dark circles that only made the panic in them amplified. Wait, panic?  

“Y/N, I’m really sorry but you need to leave,” he had the door open just far enough to stick his head and shoulders out, as if he were trying to hide something. 

“No, Soobin. I heard your cat scratching at the wall and it’s annoying the hell out of me. I can’t sleep. Can’t you lock it in the bathroom or something?” His face scrunched in confusion. 

“A cat? I don’t have a cat.” Your insides boiled with hatred at the idea of him trying to lie his way out of this. 

“Listen up Choi. Unless you have a dragon in your bedroom scratching the shit out of the walls, I don’t want to deal with your lies. Just take care of it! I need my beauty sleep and you and your noisy cat aren’t helping at all.” Soobin’s face paled and for a second you thought that you had finally won. And then Soobin said:

“It’s not a cat. It’s a racoon.” 

You almost fell onto your ass right in the hallway. Soobin’s eyes sparked with a type of mirth you never thought such an admittedly gorgeous face could possess. 

“I’m calling the landlord.” You snapped the door shut in his face and turned away.

That had apparently been the final straw for Soobin. The next day when you got back from work, you found a handwritten “RACOON HATER” sign taped to your door. What you found inside was somehow even more unsettling. Your whole living room and kitchen had been essentially trashed. Throw pillows and blankets were thrown haphazardly on the floor, many of your photos and art you had on the walls were switched around or taken down altogether. And the worst of it all; everything was covered in a fine dust of glitter. It was a struggle to find a single surface that wasn’t covered in glitter, really. 

A new type of dislike for Choi Soobin brewed in your stomach. Hatred. Your kitchen counter- also covered in a dust of chunky silver glitter- became the victim of your frustrations as you slammed your hands down. It would cost you so much time and money to get all the glitter out of your living spaces, let alone the fact that you'd inevitably be leaving some behind for the next poor soul to rent this apartment. Gritting your teeth, you went to work with your poor little vacuum. 

You had only managed to clean your coffee table and half of your couch before you heard a series of loud knocks on your door. You grumbled at the idea of having to take a pause in your work but you trudged over to the door anyway. 

To be honest, you had no idea who you were expecting to see behind your apartment door-which you belatedly realized was still decorated with Soobin’s handmade sign- but you didn’t think it would be the man himself. 

Soobin stood in the hallway, picture perfect as always. His face was tan and smooth and free from any possible blemishes. Had he plucked his eyebrows? They were groomed to neat perfection. His tall frame was dwarfed by a fuzzy blue sweatshirt that was easily a size too big. If you had met him by chance on the street, you would have fallen in love in an instant. But you knew better. You knew he was the one who reduced your once lovely apartment into the mess it was now.

“Oh, sorry,” he feigned innocence, “are you busy?” He didn’t even try to hide the smirk that blossomed on his face. A grumble of a curse fell from your lips before you responded. 

“Yeah. Some asshole decided to break into my apartment and spread glitter on everything. So yes, I’m sort of busy,” you laced your voice with enough venom to kill a horse, and it seemed as if Soobin had gotten the message as he shrunk back into the hallway a bit. His mouth opened and shut in rapid succession as he struggled to find the perfect retort. 

“I-” he cut himself off as his soft eyes became hyper focused on a spot on your face. Suddenly you were a new combination of concerned and offended. His hand hesitantly rose toward your face before the softness of his fingertips made contact with your cheek and brushed something away. You held your breath the entire time, unsure if you should be upset or worried or utterly lost in the way his skin felt against yours. The contact was brief but still made your skin burn bright red. When his hand left your cheek, you saw that he had brushed away a piece of glitter that was now resting delicately on his fingertip. 

“Sorry,” he hurried out, “I just wanted to get the glitter off of your face.” His whole demeanor had changed, and you were sure that whatever plan he had in mind when he knocked on your door had vanished. 

“Okay, weirdo,” you tried to ignore the way you were yearning to feel his touch again, “I’m still busy so can you like, go away?” Upon hearing your words he turned away to head for his apartment door with ears as red as you’d ever seen them. 

Although the glitter incident was now months behind you, you still often found pieces in random spots around your home. And Soobin was still a pain in your ass. He had been quiet for close to two weeks after your odd encounter and you were almost convinced that he had changed his ways. You were quickly proven wrong when he conned the man who works the front desk into hiding your mail for a week straight; making you subsequently late to paying some of your bills. 

More recently, a new person had moved into the apartment across the way. The first day you met him, you were busying yourself with taping up Soobin’s door with bright pink duct tape from the outside. Your new neighbor-who you learned to be named Yeonjun- had squatted down right next to you and offered to help tear pieces of the tape. 

You and Yeonjun had become fast friends. He was incredibly charming and willing to lend an ear every time you needed to complain about Soobin. For a while, you were almost able to forget the fact that the devil incarnate lived next door to you. While your work schedules tended to be a little crazy, the two of you managed to talk for at least a few minutes every day. He helped you gain some sanity back within your apartment hallway. 

Despite also being friends with Soobin, Yeonjun never took sides in your little feud; but you were always secretly worried that somehow Soobin would put a bug in his ear. One day, about two months after Yeonjun had moved in, he knocked on your door while you were in the middle of making dinner. You invited him in but he hesitated. 

“I just came to talk to you,” he bit into his bottom lip, “I really like you. But I don’t see us ever being more than friends. I hope you understand.” You scrunched your eyebrows. Where was this coming from? 

“Uh okay? I know that. I don’t like you...like that, Yeonjun. Did you hit your head or something?” You were seriously confused. Yeonjun’s eyes widened comically. 

“Well Soobin said that-“ as soon as the words fell out of his mouth Yeonjun put together the invisible puzzle pieces. His face morphed into extreme regret.  “I’m so sorry. I should have known it was part of your weird prank war. You should have seen how convincing his acting is though, he really had me thinking you had a crush on me.” You scoffed at the idea of Soobin beginning to spread rumors to one of your closest friends just for the hell of it. If Yeonjun hadn’t been mature enough to address it right away, you could have gone through weeks of confusion about why he was avoiding you.

You looked back at your kitchen, catching sight of the steaming bowl of ramen you’d just finished making. Sighing, you shut your door behind you to stand in the hall with Yeonjun. He looked sheepish in your presence as you laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m not mad at you, Yeonjun. I’m going to talk to the bane of my existence,” you gestured toward the door with the shiny ‘370’ plaque. “Just don’t bother calling the landlord if you hear yelling.” As soon as you heard the sound of Yeonjun’s door snapping shut, you laid into Soobin’s door with a heavy knock. As soon as it was opened far enough, you wedged your body inside and subsequently sent Soobin stumbling backwards. 

“How dare you?” You roared, throwing your hands in the air dramatically. “I’m fine with your petty pranks and all the other stupid shit you pull against me because that’s all between the two of us. At least it’s funny and gives me something to think about in my free time. But when you start to involve my friends? That’s way too far. There was no reason to rope Yeonjun into this. He’s your friend too, Choi.” Soobin seemed surprised that you had come in with so much to say right off the bat.

“Y/N it’s really not that big of a deal. I just wanted to see if you actually had the capacity to have a crush on someone. And you’ve been spending so much time with Yeonjun I figured he’d be the perfect person to test my theory with, plus the humiliation factor of him not liking you back would have kept me entertained for days” he sat down on his couch casually, “I guess he had to break it to you that you aren’t as flirty and irresistible as you think you are, huh?” The air crackled with tension as you gawked down at his sprawled form.

“What are you even saying? Yeonjun and I are just friends. And why does it matter to you if I have the capacity for a crush or not? You hate me. If you’re just waiting until I get a boyfriend so that you can come in and ruin it all with your shitty vendetta then you’re much worse of a person than I ever pegged you for!” Tears welled in your eyes but you wiped at them angrily. Out of all the fights and disagreements you’d ever had with Soobin, this was the first one that stirred an odd emotion in the pit of your stomach. You were tired of the back and forth. Soobin seemed oddly alarmed at the formation of your tears as he got up from the comfort of his couch and approached you like a wounded dog. 

“Trust me, I have no grand plan to ruin your life at every turn even though that’s what you think. You spend so much time with Yeonjun, I thought maybe you liked him. I knew he didn’t like you because when I told him that I-” Soobin actually clapped his own giant hand over his mouth as the words hung in the air between you. Anger shot through your mind at the idea that he didn’t even have the guts to relay the entire story. 

“You what? You’re so wrapped up in your own little world but you can’t even finish telling me what you said to someone else? I can’t believe you, honestly,” you turned and made your way toward his door, wanting nothing more than to go home and take a hot shower. Soobin’s hand clasped around your wrist as he gently yanked you away from the exit. His strong grip kept you standing right in front of him and although you struggled against him, there was no use. 

“I told him that I like you.” For a second, you thought that you had misheard him, but he continued. “I told Yeonjun that I like you. And he told me that I should go for it, because he doesn’t see you as more than a friend. But I freaked out so I told him that you liked him. I knew you probably actually didn’t.” 

Your brain was short circuiting at the confession. Choi Soobin, who had complicated your life beyond belief since the day he moved in months ago liked you? 

“But,” your eyebrows drew together as you tried to comprehend it all, “you hate me, Soobin. We have a whole...rivalry! There’s no way you actually have feelings for me. I swear if this is just another prank I’ll shove my hand so far down your throat-“ Soobin threw his hands up in front of his body in a form of defense. 

“No! I don’t hate you, Y/N. I’ve liked you since the day we met. I just thought the pranks and petty stuff was like...our way of hanging out? That’s why I kept doing them. I thought you were having fun with me.” It was ridiculous how much he sounded like a little boy explaining his side of the story to a teacher. It was even more ridiculous that the corner of your brain where you’d stuffed all your feelings for Soobin began to overflow. 

“Haven’t you ever heard that there’s much better ways to tell someone you like them? We could have spent the last 11 months not at each other’s throats if you would have just manned up and found out I like you too.” You saw the exact moment that the words finally processed and his entire face lit up with the recognition. 

A familiar, deeply dimpled smile grew across his face as his skin reddened. He clasped his hands in front of him and swayed back and forth on his feet. Before you could think to stop him, he leaned in close enough that you worried he could hear your heart thumping against your ribs. 

“You like me too?” 

“Yes, Soobin. I like you too. And I would like you even more if you stopped your stupid pranks,” you tapped his nose with your pointer finger twice. He nodded eagerly with his tongue sticking out from between his teeth slightly.

“Deal,” he stuck his hand out to you and you raised an eyebrow to silently ask if he was serious. His hand didn’t waver, so you grasped it firmly and pulled him toward your body until you could wrap him into a tight hug. It was an odd feeling, soaking in Soobin’s scent as he gently rocked the two of you back and forth in his apartment. Odd, but good. Perfect.

[ri-ahhh]

can u just give me mushy gushy shit with grayson like ethan has a girl over so the two of you decide to go out for a burger date and a walk at night? idk something like that pls 👉🏻👈🏻

A/N: I couldn’t even tell you how long this has been sitting in my drafts but I was looking through trying to find something to finish bc I was in the mood to write but not from scratch and found this lol. It was about halfway done and I have no idea where I was going with it but this is what it turned into as of today. Idek if there’s even anyone around here anymore to read this but whatever haha here it is.

You don’t usually mind being single. Even when your best friend/roommate Stella started seeing her boyfriend Charlie seriously, it didn’t give you any longing for a relationship of your own.

But there are some nights where you feel down and you just can’t handle it. The scenes of casual intimacy as soon as you get home and see them together — the vase of flowers on the kitchen island he must have brought over; the playful bickering across the room.

The incessant, unrelenting sound of a marathon session going on through the shared wall of your and Stella’s bedrooms.

You groan and turn the volume up on your AirPods, going straight to your messages next.

Wyd?

{G} ���

Don’t be weird.

Pretty sure Stella and Charlie are trying to put a hole in the wall w her headboard and I can’t take it anymore.

Your roommate chooses that moment to let out a particularly enthusiastic “fuck!” If she weren’t your best friend, you might have given in to the urge to bang on the wall, but your phone lights up with Grayson’s reply anyway.

{G} E too.

{G} I mean like I can’t hear him but ik what’s going down in there

{G} I’d offer to pick u up but sounds like u need to get outta there lol. Meet me here?

You like the message and slip on some shoes, making sure to slam your bedroom door closed on your way out, as if it would make them pause even one thrust.

In the year that you’ve known him, Grayson Dolan has become one of your closest friends. The kind where you met as acquaintances, never talked much, but then you reconnected randomly and the conversation never stopped from there on. You talk about anything and everything, but recently you’ve bonded even more about being a perpetual third wheel. You knew he’d understand and not pass judgement on you in times like this, so it had been a no-brainer to text him as an escape from tonight.

He buzzes you into the gate when you get to his house, and he tells you over another text to go ahead and hop in the Porsche before he even gets outside. It makes you smile; night drives are your favorite, and while the Tesla is a vibe in its own right, there’s just something calming about someone (your attractive friend, no less) tangibly driving you around. It’s exactly what you need right now, no matter what destination he has in mind.

When he slides into the driver’s side not even a minute later, you’re almost overwhelmed by him. Looking far too good in your eyes for how casual he’s dressed in a well-fitting T-shirt and some grey sweats. Hair slightly damp from a recent shower.

He greets you with a grin and leans over the console to kiss your cheek, and you can smell the combination of his shampoo and a bit of cologne. You always appreciated that he doesn’t overdo the fragrance, and if possible it makes him even more intoxicating at times.

“Hey,” he says simply, sitting back in his seat and fastening the seatbelt.

“Hey.” You smile and watch him with a silent but fairly obvious appreciation as he reaches a hand to rest on the back of your seat, twisting the bit he needs to look out the back windshield. The Porsche has a backup camera, obviously, but he’s a cautious driver to a fault and insists he doesn’t fully trust them.

Grayson gets the car facing enough of the right direction to throw it in drive and exit down the long driveway. You shake your head and settle back, kicking off your shoes with a sigh and tucking your feet onto the seat beneath you.

“One day, we’ll be the ones making them leave the house,” he jokes, stopping for the gate to open.

You know it’s implied that he’s referring to the two of you with separate people, but you can’t help but consider the option that the two of you could make that happen together.

“I know for a fact you have a booty call list a mile long, Dolan,” you say with a raised brow. Despite the fleeting thought, keeping things lighthearted and platonic is much easier to deal with in reality. “You could have called one of them and done just that.”

He scoffs and pretends like you’ve just hurt him deeply, slapping a hand to his burly chest to clutch at his heart. “Excuse me, it is not a mile long.” He glances over at you with a held-back smirk. “A couple hundred yards, tops.”

You throw your head back with a loud cackle, looking out the window now as he turns onto the main road. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Damn, that’s a big word.” He likes to tease you about your extended vocabulary.

“Hopeless,” you elaborate, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.

“Is that what that word means, or are you making fun of my high school dropout vocab?”

“Both.”

You let your head roll back against the headrest, turning to watch him, knees swayed to the side a bit. His form isn’t hidden in the dark at all, features lit up by the dash in front of him and the streetlights you’re passing by outside.

“Why didn’t you, then? Call one of them?”

Grayson shrugs. “Just didn’t really feel like spending time with people tonight.”

You’re silent for a moment and consider his answer. “Why did you agree to hang out, then? You didn’t have to.”

His eyes never leave the road, but you see the veins in his hand gripping the steering wheel bulge out for a moment as he squeezes it tightly.

“I guess I meant I didn’t want to spend time with people I don’t really care about.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it off with a sarcastic tone. “Aw, you care about me?”

“Of course I do,” he replies easily. “I’m not sure why, though. You’re so fuckin sassy sometimes.”

“You love it.”

The car rolls to a stop at a red light. Grayson’s hand slides from where it’s lightly gripping the gear shift, to yours, which is picking at a loose string on your leggings.

Your easy smile at the comfortable banter between you and Grayson falters some in surprise, but you let him turn your palm over and trace the lines of your hand softly. Both of your gazes are fixated on the way he tickles your skin when he says, “Yeah. I do.”

Your eyes shoot up, just in time to meet his. He looks at you with a weird mixture heat and vulnerability, and there’s a thick moment of silence, no longer than the single beat of your heart that you can hear thudding loud and clear in your ears, when suddenly the car behind you lays on the horn.

Both of you startle, and Grayson’s attention returns to the road ahead. He steps on the gas and takes his hand away, carding it through his hair roughly as you sink back into your seat with a disbelieving scoff.

“Oh my God, dude, you can’t just do that to me,” you blurt out, your heart in your stomach and your brain even lower. A helpless giggle escapes you, and you tug on your own locks. “Shit...”

“What?” he asks defensively, but you hear the tiny bit of the grin he’s wearing in his voice.

You turn your head to deadpan him, eyes wide. “You can’t just... imply something like that and give me sex eyes and not think you did something to me! Are you crazy?”

He gives a one-shouldered shrug with the arm resting on top of the steering wheel again. “Maybe. You’re proving my ‘sassy’ point all over again.”

“Oh my — don’t fuck with my head, Gray.”

“Hey.” His voice is deeper, more serious as the car comes to another stop. You’re only just now realizing you’ve reached the burger joint, and that the late hour made finding parking a nonexistent problem. He puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt before doing the same to yours. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to fuck with your head, I promise. I just... didn’t want it to seem like I was coming on too strong too suddenly. I, uh, have a history of doing that.”

You stare at him, processing everything. “I know.”

He chuckles dryly. “Yeah, I know you do.”

There’s more silence. That heavy kind that happened right after his little impromptu confession.

“You know,” you finally speak up, finding your voice after mulling over your words, “I kinda love that you’re a douche.”

He looks a little taken aback, until understanding dawns on him, and his eyes light up in a way that has you smiling instantly with him. “Really?”

You nod. “Call me crazy.”

Grayson shifts closer in his seat, his pink tongue darting out to lick those plump lips. You mirror him, and this time you take the initiative to reach out for his hand. It’s warm and strong, just like the rest of him.

Like earlier, you watch your hands lightly caressing each other as you speak. “And I love that you come on strong. And that you put your heart out there.” You interlace your fingers, immediately in love with the contrast of his huge ones between your slim ones. “Makes things way easier for me.”

He grins wide. “There’s that sass again.”

You bite your lip through your smirk and tug him close to you with your clasped hands, your free one reaching behind his neck to drag his lips to yours. “Mm. Better shut me up, then.”

[astromechs]

whatever happens (happens to the both of us)

i can't get peacemaker out of my head so, voila. chris and adrian are idiots learning how to be people. more to come, probably!

also on ao3!

Chris will be the first to tell you that he’s been witness to some pretty fucked up shit: a blob that ate a whole Wendy’s (which should’ve been the first sign of the world heading toward fucked up, because who the fuck would want to eat a whole Wendy’s?), almost getting crushed by some starfish thing, stopping some bug aliens from taking over the world. And in the face of all that, well, some freaky mutant animals genetically engineered in a lab and wreaking havoc on a Washington suburb should have been a walk in the fucking park.

Should have been.

What had actually happened, though, had been a fucking disaster. Economos had tried to repeat his fifteen-minutes-of-fame move with the fucking chainsaw, which had led him to nearly taking his own arm off, and had forced Harcourt (much to her pissed off-ness that Chris had been more than happy to get away from, in the end) to spend more time babysitting than anything else on her first mission post-injury. With Adebayo at least a thousand miles away doing something else, that’d left — well, that’d left all the ass kicking to just him and Adrian.

(Or: “Heeeey, the BFF dream team!” as Adrian had called out, gleeful and maniacal in his usual way, with his blade still stuck in the back of one escaped lab creature, blood gushing from the wound. “Sick!”)

They’d done fine for a while, they had, but then one of the technicians from the lab had appeared out of nowhere onto the scene, with some fucking Judomaster-level combat mojo, and had even managed to catch Adrian by surprise. Which said secret-combat-master lab technician had used to his advantage to pull the Vigilante mask off and slash the left side of Adrian’s face with a knife — which, of course, Adrian had thrown a shitfit about.

No, not about the blood gushing from his face; about being separated from his mask.

And that? Well, now it’d become Chris’s problem.

“Jesus fucking Christ, man, pull it together!” he’d yelled over his shoulder. “We’ve still got —”

His problem had almost become an even bigger problem, because out of his line of sight, a big, hulking burly guy with a machete had his sights on him — and he hadn’t even realized it until he’d heard the body thud to the ground behind him, a blade piercing right between his eyes.

One really well-aimed throw, courtesy of none other than mid-shitfit Adrian.

That’s the long and short of how he and Adrian had ended up here, on the couch back at his trailer, bloodied and beaten, as the sun starts to sink below the horizon outside.

Scattered on the table in front of them is a haphazard collection of every medical supply Chris could scrounge around for: cotton balls, gauze, antiseptic, 125-proof whiskey in case the antiseptic doesn’t do the trick, half-dirty towels — don’t look at him, he’s not a fucking nurse. Honestly, Adrian probably (no, definitely) needs a hospital, because that gash on his face looks pretty deep, but even just the suggestion is enough to spur on another shitfit; after all the bullshit from earlier, he’s way too tired to deal with that.

Sue him.

(Actually, don’t; he has no money.)

Anyway, he’s not a fucking nurse, but the cut on Adrian’s face has at least stopped gushing blood, so Chris figures now is as good of a time as any to try the antiseptic. Grabbing one of the towels (and turning it over until he finds the clean(est) end), he turns over the antiseptic bottle in his other hand, pouring its entire contents onto the towel. For his part, Adrian is weirdly quiet as he watches all of this happen, and even still when the towel makes contact with his face.

Chris thinks he’s about hit a limit on strange things happening in front of him for one day.

But that’s before he feels a set of fingers grazing the skin over his own cheekbone — a set of fingers connected to a hand that Adrian has reached out toward him.

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?”

Adrian’s brows knit in genuine confusion. “What?”

Removing the towel, and almost like he’s forgotten he’s holding it, he jams it at his own face, pointing wildly. “This.” And since that’s probably not specific enough for Adrian, because most things aren’t, he adds: “Touching my face. What the fuck?”

“I thought that was just a thing we were doing. Like, male bonding or something. You touch my face, I touch yours —”

“I’m cleaning your fucking cut so it doesn’t fucking get infected, you moron!”

Adrian withdraws a little, moving his head back like some kind of wind gust is coming at it. “Oh.” If that one word sounds a little crestfallen, if there’s a frown starting to pull on his mouth, it’s all gone a second later; by the time he opens his mouth again, he’s back to his usual self. “Well, try to do it better, okay? Because what you’re doing stings like a motherfucker.”

It’s not something Chris finds himself able to brush aside so easily, though. He’s having a harder time doing that than he used to with a lot of things lately. Comes with the territory of the kind of massive headfuck he’s gone through recently — or something. Who the fuck knows?

“Sorry,” he mutters.

It’s almost amazing how much Adrian’s face hasn’t moved, and it’s the same with the rest of him. Like he’s still, even after several minutes, patiently waiting for some kind of answer. Fucking weird. “For what?”

“I…” Chris trails off, before he even really begins, into a heavy sigh. Silence falls between them, and it feels like a year (four years in a cell) before he finds a way to bring himself back. “You saved my life out there, man. I should probably be thanking you, instead of….”

He waves his free hand in a vague gesture and then drops it, just like the sentence. Drops his eyes, too, as he exhales another long sigh. He’s trying, you know? Trying to fight what feels like a losing battle most of the fucking time against the whole committee of ghosts in his head, all saying one thing or another. Never shutting the fuck up, actually kind of like Adrian, who’s —

Who’s trying, too. Maybe he isn’t exactly the guy you ask to pick up a dropped ball, and maybe he doesn’t grab this one until it’s rolled halfway down the proverbial street, but he’s got it. He shifts just a couple of inches closer on the couch, and:

“Hey,” Adrian says, and Chris notes that his voice is quieter, softer than it usually is; there’s a twinge in his chest that he really doesn’t know what to do with on top of everything else he doesn’t really know what to do with, so he settles on picking his eyes up off of the floor again. “What are BFFs for? I’m always gonna have your back out there. It’s kind of in the definition of BFF.”

A smile tugs then, just slightly, on the corners of Chris’s mouth, and for once, he finds that he doesn’t even have the heart to make a correction.

[jeyramarie]

The lucky compass- Pogues x OC

summary: John B’s optimism took his friends on a wild goose chase, thanks to his compass. 

wc: 4,910

a/n: it’s been a while but we’re back!! so excited to work with these characters again and with my bestie @halsmultibitch . It’s gonna be amazing!! If you wanna be tagged, you can ask either one of us. Happy reading 🦋

prologue~ pilot~ 

Previously on Good Life..

They went back to the Chateau, getting onto the dock quickly putting the bag on the floor. Everyone got around John B as he opened the bag and found a metal cylinder. He unscrewed the cap and turned it upside down to let the object inside fall down to his hand. It was a compass. 

The Chateau was quiet as a warm summer breeze invaded the windows, fanning over a sleeping pogue. John B’s slumper got ruined when a loud banging came to his door. 

“DCS, I know you're in there!” the voice shouted as the pogue’s eyes opened in fear. Suddenly someone stomped on the window next to him, making him jump in surprise. 

“Whoa!” a laugh came from outside which he immediately knew it was JJ’s. 

“You should’ve seen your face, dude. Your face was like..” the blonde haired pogue said as he made a scared expression. 

They had planned to go to Ms. Lana’s house that day to ask her some questions about Big John and her husband, Scooter. John B found it extremely weird, the fact that his dad’s compass was on a dead man’s boat. Nothing was adding up. He believed Ms. Lana was the person that was going to clarify most of it. 

“I’m just saying, I don’t understand why you don’t at least try with Kiara. She clearly likes you.” JJ said as he fidgeted with his lighter while his foot stayed perched on the dash of the Twinkie. 

“She’s like ‘Oh, John B’.” he said mimicking a moaning woman. 

“Is that what she does?” John B asked, smiling at his best friend and turning his vision back to the road. 

“She’s sketching about you diving, then she kissed you.” 

“She kissed me on the cheek. It’s not like we were makin’ out.” 

“Low hanging fruit bro. Don’t pretend you don’t notice. I see it in your eyes.” JJ said, pointing at his eyes with two fingers. 

“You’re like ‘I kinda like that’ and you start blushing.” 

“I blush? How bout you?” 

“Yeah, you do and what about me?” 

“Really? I’m talking about Lani, you blush every time she’s around.” John B asked, smirking.

“Yeah, I don't think so.” JJ reached out for the compass making the shaggy haired pogue reach out too, trying to take it. 

“Hey, don’t-”

“I was just looking at it.” the blonde hair pogue said, looking at the compass. 

“I gotta admit, your father’s compass in Scooter’s boat, that’s freaky.” 

“Yeah. That’s why we’re going to talk to Ms. Lana, figure this whole thing out.” John B looked at the side of the road as they passed the Wreck to see their new friend Lani. JJ saw her and stuck his head out the window. 

“Hey! Lani!” The curly haired kook turned around and smiled when she saw the Twinkie. They stopped next to her and she placed her elbows on the window seal. 

“Sup, guys. Where are you off to?” Lani smiled as JJ messed up her hair. 

“We’re going to Ms. Lana’s. Wanna come?” 

“Yeah, sure.” She climbed into the van and sat behind the driver’s seat and settled in as John B continued to drive. They continued to talk about the compass and the boat while Lani changed out of her work shirt. 

“I’m sure she would love to talk to us. It’s not like her husband just drowned or anything.” JJ said sarcastically as he played with the compass. After a few minutes, they pulled up into Ms. Lana’s house and all of them got out. 

“Know what this house looks like? Whoever lives here smokes too much weed.” JJ said and mimicked his hands as if he was smoking. They were all staring at the colorful little hud when they heard glass break from inside the house. John B held his hand up signalling Lani to slow down. 

“Bullshit!” a manly voice shouted, making the boys and the kook stop dead in tracks. 

“Maybe we should come back.” JJ said starting to walk backwards when Lani took his arm and pulled him back. 

“We’re not going anywhere.” she whispered not wanting the intruders to hear her. 

“It’s a little too soon-”

“No, no, shut up. Shut up, JJ.” John B said hurriedly and walked closer to the house with Lani and the pogue trailing behind him. 

“Tell me where it is or i’ll fuck you up!” the man shouted followed by desperate whimpers. 

“I’ll sink you in the fucking-” another man shouted as something crashed making Lana scream. 

“You're hurting me!” 

“I-” Lani stuttered not knowing what to do as her grip on JJ’s arm got tighter.

“Shut up, come on.” John B whispered as he turned to them and back at the house, making his way closer. The closer they got the louder the shouts and whimpers were heard. John B started perching his head by the window when JJ ran to him, pulling him down and out of view in case the men saw them. 

“Still think we should stay?” the blonde pogue said, staring at his best friend and the kook that was somehow dragged into this. 

“The compass wasn’t on the boat!” a man shouted, making Lani’s eyes open wide and turn her head to the boys. 

“Where is it, Lana?!” 

“I don’t know!” she cried as loud thumps were heard near the window above the teens. Specks of paint fell on them making them look at the ground in question. 

“Is that paint?” JJ whispered, messing up his air to remove the specks. 

“Yes, it’s paint.” 

“Ugh, it got in my hair.” Lani whispered with furrowed brows as she grew annoyed by the mess. The men stated they would be leaving which made John B leave his place, getting closer to the front door. Just as he moved his head to look, the men started walking out making him quickly turn with his back pressed against the wall. The men walked down the dock and into their boats, turning on the engine. The boys looked when they were far away enough to not notice anyone.

“Dude, those are the dudes that shot at us.” JJ said, remembering that moment in the marsh. 

“Shot at you? Wh-when did that happen?” Lani asked worriedly, pulling on his arm to make him turn to her. 

“It happened a while back but Kie stopped them in the marsh.” he explained as the kook looked at him with glossy eyes. 

“Aren’t you scared? I mean, people you don't know following you with a gun is not nor-”

“Guys, come on.” John B cutt Lani off and walked up the entrance stairs with JJ trailing behind. The house was a mess, everything was broken, ripped and thrown on the floor. The doors were off the hinges and every glass was shattered. 

“Ms. Lana?” the kook called out looking around as she tried to find the definitely hurt woman. 

“Ms. Lana?” John B said going into the kitchen area and ran after he saw her sitting on the bathroom floor. 

“Hey, hey. Hey! You okay?” he asked as he kneeled next to her and touched her arm making her jump and turn to him. Many questions were thrown back and forth while JJ tried to get John to stand and leave along with Lani trying to make the blonde pogue shut up. The kook was looking out the window, making sure the men didn’t come back when she heard Ms. Lanna shout at the boys to leave. They hurried out of the hud and got into the van, quickly making their way out of there. On their way to the Chateau, they called Pope, Fallon and Kiara to meet them there to make the “meeting” a lot faster. 

They were all gathered on the porch as JJ acted out what happened, exaggerating everything of course which brought Lani to correct him all the time. 

“And we’re right outside like this.” JJ says as he acts out everything that went down at Ms. Lana’s.

“That’s not how it happened J.” she said, making Kie chuckle while Fallon rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“What would you know?” Fallon said in a bitchy annoyed attitude.

“I was there… so… I know.” the kook said kindly leaning against the porch railing.

“You were- What do you mean you were there? Did you invite her?” she asked JJ with grittiness.

“I didn’t invit-”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Everyone looked at JJ and back at Fallon, watching everything unfold. The blonde boy felt bad as he walked towards her placing his hands on her arms in a form of comfort. Fallon frowned as his thumbs rubbed her arms softly. 

“I’m not always gonna call you, Fal.” her eyes opened wide in disbelief and broke out of JJ’s hold, quickly walking into the Chateau without saying another word. Everyone else stayed quiet until the pogue continued his performance on how things went earlier that day. 

“Okay well, all we hear is bam! bam! bam. Knocking paint off the wall, G! From the inside.” he explained as his body manuarism moved to put his hand on the wall. John B heard as his vision stayed on the floor, thinking of what Ms. Lana said. 

“All right? And I'm just looking at him like- Wait, first off, look at this shit.” JJ said, walking towards Pope and Kie to take the paint off of his hair and onto the floor. 

“The house.” Pope started putting his hand out to push the pogue away. 

“That’s dandruff, disgusting.” Kie muttered, making Lani chuckle as she fixed her ponytail. 

“Look at all that. All right? That’s paint.” 

“We know JJ.” the kook said as she crossed her arms, leaning back on the porch. 

“At that point, I was just, like.. I’m waiting for death.” 

“You’re so dramatic, dude.” Lani laughed, making JJ go to her to start poking her sides causing her laughs to get louder. 

“Okay, so you saw the guys that shot at us, right?” Pope asked, placing his elbows on his knees. 

“Yeah” 

“Did you get a good look at them? What did they look like?” 

“Anything. Anything’s helpful.” Kie said moving a piece of hair behind her hair as JJ parted from Lani’s side. 

“Anything we can bring to a police report?” the curly haired pogue asked, looking at Kie and back at the blonde. He stayed silent for a while as he inhaled from his vape. 

“Burly.” he said, making everyone look at him in question. Lani mouthed ‘What the fuck?’ at Kie making the pogue chuckle. 

“Burly?” Pope asked with furrowed brows not understanding what his best friend had just said. 

“Yeah, you know like-”

“That’s not very helpful.” Kie muttered, taking a deep breath as she lounged back on the chair. They continued on with the questions as JJ walked back and forth mentioning the people that went to his dad’s job. The conversation turned once he mentioned square groupers which caused Lani to lift up her head in question. 

“You guys, not everything is a kingpin movie. You do know that right?” the kook said walking across the porch to John B who seemed to be on another planet. 

“Hey, you okay?” 

“Yeah, just… thinking.” he replied, giving the kook a small smile. They both turned to the pogues to hear about the physical appearance of the “square groupers”, as JJ called them. 

“I wasn't taking little mental polaroids the entire time, man. I was under duress okay?” JJ said desperately out of breath. Pope shook his head in disbelief and leaned back on the couch. Lani chuckled and leaned on the railing as she stared at John B while he opened the compass. She was about to ask him a question when he started moving away from everyone, closer to the door as the pogues continued talking. Pope started saying stuff about the compass directly at John when he cut him off. 

“The office.” 

“What?” the kook asked behind him.

“My dad. My dad’s office. He always kept the office locked because he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research.” he said as he walked into the house with everyone following behind. Fallon was sitting on the sofa, scrolling through her phone as they all walked in. 

“What’s going on?” she asked as she stood up and walked towards JJ.

“JB thinks there’s some shit in his dad’s office.” he muttered as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her forehead. 

“I’m sorry about earlier.” 

“It’s okay.” Fallon smiled as JJ pulled her into a tight hug. Lani was the last one to walk into the house which meant that she saw the whole encounter making her look at the floor and continue to follow the rest of the pogues. Once behind Pope, John B opened the door and walked in. 

“I’ve slept over here like 600 times, and I've never seen this door open.”  the brown haired pogue stated as he walked in behind Kie. The room was filled with papers and files, along with books, all about the Royal Merchant. The pogues and the kook looked around, scared to touch anything in case John B got mad. He found a board with previous owners of the compass and after he told the stories.. Well, it was a death compass. 

“Look, my dad used to talk about this compartment here. Soldiers used to hide secret notes.” he said as he sat down and untwisted the back cap, pulling it off. 

“What’s that?” Kie asked, noticing something scribbled on the inside. 

“That wasn’t there before.” John B stated as he squinted his eyes to read what he immediately recognized as his dad’s handwriting. 

“Can I see it?” JJ said moving next to his friend who held the compass a bit closer to his view so he could read. 

“Red- Rout- No, i think that's an A.” 

“It says Redfield.” Kie and Lani said at the same time and looked at each other as they chuckled. They started thinking about the name and what it could mean which led to John B believing it was a clue. Pope gave the suggestion that it could be an anagram. The pogues looked for some paper and a pen as John B rummaged through one of the desks. As they continued their discussion, Lani walked towards the window and looked outside, trying to think. Suddenly, a black truck pulled over next to the Twinkie making her squint her eyes to see who was driving. 

“Guys.” She started but was quickly replaced with Kie and JJ’s guesses on the anagram. 

“Guys! Somebody’s here.” Lani shouted, gaining everyone’s attention. They all walked to the window and saw two men getting out the truck and walking towards the porch. 

“Guys, guys, is that them?” Kie asked with a worried voice as her anxiety started creeping up from her feet. 

“No.” JJ muttered letting his head fall back in annoyance. 

“Is that them?” Lani asked, looking at Pope with worried eyes. JJ started giving John B the whole ‘i told you so’ speech when the pogue came and pushed him against the wall.

“Where's the gun?” He asked, holding a strong grip on the blonde’s shirt. 

“Gun? I, uh, I can’t-” 

“Now you don’t have the gun, the one time we need the gun?” Kie said desperately putting both of her hands on her head. 

“Seriously, JJ? Now you forget?” Fallon said walking back and forth starting to feel scared. The boys muttered to each other a bit more before JJ bolted out of the room. 

“John Routledge!” a man shouted, making JJ turn back to the office, almost falling.

“Come on out now! Fuck- Where’s the compass?” he shouted as the pogue entered the room quickly closing the door immediately after him. 

“Where’s the gun?” 

“They’re on the front porch, guys.” The blonde haired pogue whispered as Fallon started shaking. 

“What? Th-they're in here? What are we gonna do?” she whimpered on the verge of tears causing JJ to go over to her. He placed his hands on both her cheeks and rubbed his thumb against them, muttering comforting words into her ears. 

“Princess, it’s gonna be okay. Trust me, I’m not gonna let them hurt you.” As the pogue tried to comfort the caramel haired pogue, Lani and Pope were trying to open the window as John B stayed by the door. 

“Why is it taking so long?” Kie asked as she walked closer to the window. 

“It's painted shot.” Pope groaned as he tried to push the window open again. Lani parted from his side and moved to rummage through one of the desk drawers, looking for something sharp. 

“Okay, guys. I got it.” she whispered, holding up a letter opener quickly jamming it into the window seal. The men’s shouts got closer making everyone pressure Lani into going faster.

“I’m going as fast as I can.” 

“Well, you’re not doing enough.” Fallon whispered as she rolled her eyes. 

“Shh.” “Quiet.” Pope and John B whispered, leaning back against the door. Suddenly, one of the men started kicking the door harshly, making it break. At that exact moment, Kie and Lani pushed the window open, quickly climbing out. Fallon and JJ climbed out next, then followed by Pope and John B. The kook ran towards the chicken coop with everyone following. They all quickly crawled in making the roosters crown. JJ sat next to Lani leaving Fallon at the far end next to Pope, which caused her blood to boil. 

After some time, as John B stared through the cracks of the coop the men walked out with boxes filled with books and documents. All from Big John’s office. The rooster never shut up, making Lani anxious with the thought of being caught. 

“Do something Pope, shut him up.” JJ muttered with gritted teeth. 

“What do you want me to do?” the pogue asked, getting annoyed quickly.

“Pet it, or talk to it. I don’t know.” Kie whimpered as the noises got louder. The sound of the trunk closing was heard loudly as the chickens clucked and the roosters tried to fly around. Fallon has had enough, her anger and fear driving her to grab the rooster’s neck, pushing it hard on the floor. Until it cracked making the feathered animal go numb. Kie whimpered as she started to cry, making John B place his hand on hers while JJ wrapped his arms around Lani, pulling her to his side. He started kissing the side of her head and forehead as he comforted her with sweet words. 

“Ratter, what the hell are you doing?Let’s go!” a man shouted, making his partner place his gun back in his pants and make his way to the truck. He closed the trunk loudly, signalling the teens that the ‘square groupers’ were leaving. The sound of tires against the grabble turned less and less loud until it was safe for them to come out. John B got out first, making sure the coast was clear before everyone else followed him. The pogue got everyone in the van and started driving, ignoring everyone’s questions about their destination. The conversation continued being turned to the whole compass thing, again..

“I mean, it's obvious, right? A family heirloom. What better place to hide a message? He had to know it was gonna get back to me, right?” John B rambled looking at Lani, who was sitting in the passenger seat, and back at the road. Everyone stayed quiet, giving each other sad pitiful looks until the kook broke the ice. 

“Yeah. It’s possible.” she said softly, looking at him with sad eyes. 

“It could also be possible that you’re concocting wild theories to help- Ow!” Pope yelled, holding his arm after Lani punched it, cutting him off. He looked at her to see the kook giving him a ‘why would you say that?’ look. 

“Bro, you know how I process my sad feels. Dank nugs and the stickiest of the ickies, that's how I do it.” JJ said, making Fallon raise her eyebrow thinking he was high. 

“I’m not concocting, okay? My dad’s trying to give me a message.” He looked at everyone in the van before turning back to the road.

“If it helps you believe, John B.” Kie said from behind him with sad eyes. 

“I don't need a therapy session, okay? I’m not tripping out.”

“It’s okay to trip, bro, but-” JJ shook his head as John B cut him off. 

“My dad is missing, okay? You don't know what it's like to have the person closest to you vanish and have no idea what happened to them.” Lani frowned and looked at the rest of the pogues in the van.

“It’s been almost a year.” Fallon said sadly as she placed a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“What does the message mean, anyway? Redfield?” Lani said, completely ignoring the pogue as she kept all her attention on John B. 

“Redfield, the name of his favorite place.” Right after he said that, they drove through the entrance of the lighthouse. They drove for a bit more before pulling up in front of the tall building having everyone climb out of the van. 

“Right. You’re gonna post up and look out for bogeys, okay?” John B said, turning to JJ. 

“Wait.. why me?” the blonde pogue pointed at himself.

“Cause you're not coming.” Pope said, making the blonde pogue turn to him. 

“Why?” 

“There are independent and dependent variables. You’re independent. We don’t know what you'll do.” 

“Shut up!” the blonde yelled pointing his finger at the curly haired pogue making Lani shake her head as she laughed. John B, then moved on to tell them to stay on the lookout as Fallon willingly went with him towards the lighthouse. 

“If we split up, we meet up at JJ’s house.” she said, walking backwards towards the fence as Kie nodded and agreed, turning back to the rest of the pogues. 

“You know, Pope, you shouldn’t really be here.” Lani said, squinting her eyes as the sun got brighter, turning to the pogues who were looking at her in question.

“Cause of the scholarship. If we get caught it’s complete destruction for him.” 

“Right, right. I forgot about that.” Kie nodded as she looked at both sides of the road, making sure no car was coming. A few minutes went by in a bit of comfortable silence as JJ and Lani played with his rubber ball while Kie and Pope stayed looking at the surrounding area. 

“What do you think is going on in there?” Pope asked, looking at the lighthouse as he placed his hand on top of his forehead to shade his eyes from the sun. 

“I have no idea.” Lani replied, catching the ball and throwing it back to JJ. 

“And then I look over and he's comforting her when I was the one that had a panic attack in the first place.” Fallon ranted as they continued to go up the stairs, “It’s like she’s stealing everything. It’s fucking crazy.”

“Fallon, you’re literally the only one that sees her as a bad person.” John B chuckles dryly as he finally reaches the door at the top of the lighthouse. 

“She is a bad person.” Fallon muttered as she crossed her arms feeling annoyed. They had found the lighthouse keeper, who started to show them where the Royal Merchant should be. He explained the coordinates and the story as they all walked around the lighthouse to stare at the island’s coast. Everything was going smoothly, until John B pulled out the compass making the man run from them.

 One thing led to another which caused the lighthouse keeper to call the police, making the pogues make a run for it. The ones that stayed on the lookout were playing around or talking when they heard the police sirens. Lani gasped as she saw the police car around the corner having JJ grab her hand quickly to start running to the van. 

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Pope did the same to Kie, both getting in the back as the other two went in the front. They drove out of there fast, leaving their friends behind as they tried to not get caught by the police. As soon as Fallon and John B, they saw the twinkie driving away making them stop. 

“Oh you have to be kidding me. Shit!” she said, running her hands through her hair. 

“Come on, this way.” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her behind him as they started running towards the beach. 

“You’ve got to admit, that was kind of promising.” John B said out of breath as they walked along the beach getting farther and farther from the lighthouse. 

“I mean, my dad, the Royal Merchant, the ranger, the Royal Merchant. Coincidence? I don't think so!” He exclaimed as he moved his arms to make his point, turning to Fallon from time to time. 

“It’s his job to know about the wrecks, John-” 

“Okay, but the Royal Merchant?” 

“That’s the most famous shipwreck here and Redfield is one of the most common names in the OBX.” Fallon said following the pogue who never stopped walking. 

“This is a wild-goose chase, John B and a really good one.” she muttered the last part as he finally stopped and turned to her. 

“I-I don’t know, maybe we missed something at the lighthouse.” He extended his arm towards the direction where they had just walked from as Fallon shook her head and fixed her hair. 

“We should go back. You believe me, right?” She looked at the floor and then at him with pitiful eyes. 

“I think there might be some light to moderate concocting right now.” 

“Fal, come on. Seriously?” The pogue said as he took off his hat and placed it back on his head. 

“Look, I get it. You miss your dad… I know..” she said, placing her hands on his arms and pulled him in for a hug. 

“You’re losing it and I don’t want you to vanish too. So please, get it together.” Fallon said softly into his ear and parted from the hug, still remaining close. John B stared at her for a bit before he leaned in and connected his lips with hers. It lasted for a few seconds until they pulled away with shocked expressions. 

“Um.. wh-what was that?” Suddenly, he came back from the trance he was in and started to shake his head.

“I’m sorry. I- shit, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay.”

“I’m such an idiot.”

“No, it’s okay. I don't even mind… but you know those stupid rules. No pogue on pogue macking.”

“Right, yeah. Rules.” John B said immediately being cut off by police sirens. When they both turned it was Shoppe, coming to take the shaggy haired pogue. They were both taken to the police station to interrogate John B. They were able to leave a few hours later, making him take Fallon home. As he walked back to the Chateau he met with the “square groupers” again which led him to being electrocuted against a fence. 

Once at home, he felt an uncertain feeling as he looked at his father’s office. Every book and paper piling up on the desks along with the family tree board. John B grabbed most of it and took it outside, throwing it into a pile. He sprayed gasoline on it and threw a match, watching the pile turn into a big fire. Something clicked inside his head as he watched it all burn, making him take out the family board from the pile. John B quickly grabbed his keys and drove the Twinkie to pick up the pogues. Finally, stopping at the Wreck to get Fallon, who worked there in the afternoons. 

“She said she’s not coming!” Kie shouted at the pogue as she walked out of the restaurant. 

“What? Why?” Pope asked, poking his head out the van. 

“What’d you do to her, John B?” JJ asked as he turned his head to look at his friend. He got out of the van and stormed into the restaurant to talk to Fallon.

“What do you think he did?” Lani muttered as she doodled on her sketch book, sitting behind JJ. 

“I don’t know but it must've been something big.” he squinted his eyes as he stared out the van window at the docks. It took John B about 5 minutes to get her to go, making him feel relieved once all his friends were in the van. 

The sky turned dark as they drove to the cemetery still following John B’s crazy plan. The Twinkie pulled up in front of the gates and the teens climbed out, immediately pulling out their flashlights. It was closed at that time of night which caused them to jump over the fence. John B led the group to his relative’s tombstone who’s maiden name was Redfield. Now it all made sense. 

Lani had volunteered to climb into it since she was the smallest. Once inside she asked for a flashlight due to it being so dark. She looked around for a bit until she found an envelope leaned against the wall. 

“Oh my god.” she whispered as she stared at it. ‘To Bird.’ it read.

good life: @ilovefandoms102 @agardenofbooks @cloverrover

[boognish-worshipper]

Midnight City AU

i’ve been having fun writing this story, all these lil snippets n pieces comin together n shit,,, but i also find myself getting so frustrated writing sometimes even tho ik that’s a given with literally creating anything 😭 anyway uhhhh scheming shit ensues in this chapter, and we see another familiar pal pop up 🙏 also included obligatory reference to those aesthetic photos with song lyrics 🏃‍♀️💥

//Chapter 2: Oblivion

The vinyl store was a short walk from Sterling Lake, but Ron and Trevor decided to run there like idiots. Trevor was out of breath by the time they got there placing his hands on his knees, while Ron looked ready to keel over and pass out, pressing a hand against the front of the store.

“Remind me why we chose to run here?”

“So we could,” Ron wheezed out a breath, inhaling deep to stable himself.

“So we could hurry up and get Wade.”

“It was a rhetorical question.”

“Right. Sorry Trevor.”

Trevor swung the door open hastily, calling out for Wade right away. A head with muddy locs popped up in their direction.

“Hey Trevor! Hi Ron!”

“Wade! Get over here, no time for pleasantries!”

Wade rushed over to meet them outside.

“Get out of my G-damn store Trevor!”

“I’m going, Debra. Say hi to lovely Floyd for me, will ya?”

“Get out!”

The trio walked away from the place, not knowing where to head next.

“Let’s go talk in my truck, where we won’t be… disturbed by any fuckwad wearing Andés brand sherpa jackets. Why do they even need jackets out here? It’s like 90 degrees all the time!”

He was parked across the way from Sterling Lake, and as he went, he tried his best to avoid running into the clique of phony fucks. The minute they all piled in, Trevor peeled out so loudly it was surprising he tried being discrete at all.

“So, Ron. Fill Wade in.”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“It’s the Merryweather Night Club.”

“Ooh, are we goin’ in to see them pretty girls dance?”

“No, Wade.” Trevor interjected.

“Then what-“

“It’s about Steve.”

“Who?”

Trevor impatiently shot out a breath, trying his best to breakdown the situation to Wade. He put a hand to his face briefly before speaking again.

“Haines, Wade. Steven fuckin’ Haines.”

“Ohh him! That fancy dude at the park.”

“Yeah. The fancy dude at the park.”

“What about him?”

“Well Ron here caught word that Devin Weston is hosting some big event there for Haines and his crew.”

“We invited or somethin’?”

“For fucks sake- No, Wade. We’re gonna plan out how to completely crash and wreck the party, so we can get that club the fuck out of here.”

“How’re we gonna do that?”

“Well first, we’re gonna scope the place out. Get a better idea of what we’re dealing with here.”

Trevor thought to himself that if he didn’t have a good look from the outside, that’d he’d have to get a layout of the floor plans himself. It’s not like he hadn’t visited the club before, but he hadn’t been… sober exactly when he dropped by those few times. So it was basically like seeing it for the first time. If he couldn’t get much from the outside, he knew only one person who could accomplish getting the layout of the place.

“We’re almost there, get ready to do some creeping boys.”

The sun was setting, and soon it would be dark out. And when it got dark in Los Santos, it got dark. The only way the city could be visible was from the surplus of lights that were nearly everywhere, except for a few places. They at least had some darkness to rely on so they wouldn’t be spotted right away. Trevor parked a block away, and the three of them hid on the rooftop of the building across the way. Neon lights flickered on, reading “MERRYWEATHER’S SUNNY DAYS NIGHT CLUB”.

“Such a stupid fucking name. I mean, why is it called Sunny Days if it’s a night club?!” Trevor angrily muttered.

As the sky grew dark, the club began to stir, with some random rhythmic song starting up. Ron lifted a pair of binoculars he brought with him, and gasped.

“There he is! Mr. Weston himself!”

Trevor snatched the binoculars from Ron, causing him to crash into his side.

“Uh, Trevor, it’s still around my neck.”

“Then take it the fuck off, before I take it off for you.”

He fumbled around with it, tossing it into Trevor’s hands. Below them, he saw Devin standing outside, with a pristine woman beside him. Trevor whistled lowly, so they wouldn’t be heard.

“That lady’s wayyy out of that fucker’s league.”

He watched them speak to the bouncer outside, hearing them laugh about something before heading in.

“They’re probably laughing it up now, plotting their next move to take over the city!”

“Shut up Ron, we lost them.”

He growled in frustration, handing the binoculars back to Ron.

“Let’s sneak ‘round back, maybe we’ll see something there.”

As they left, Trevor made a mental note of where the Merryweather bouncers were placed. Two burly men guarded the entrance, with a thick velvety rope not too far in front of it. They had to avoid the streetlights, seeing as people like them were sure to raise suspicion being near one of the hottest night clubs in LS. He couldn’t be made, not when he already had a reputation there.

“Alright Ron, you see anything?”

They hid near a dumpster, away from the lights.

“Not really, it’s too dark-“

Suddenly, the back door swung open. Ron and Trevor ducked while Wade’s eyes were transfixed on who was coming out. Trevor yanked him down, holding a finger to his lips.

“So I says to him, ‘You ain’t payin’ me enough to stay on this failure of a fuckin’ show Solomon!’, old guy flipped the fuck out.”

“That’s that Pelosi actor though!” Wade said, rather loudly.

“Wade! Shh!”

“And then I- wait a minute. The fuck was that?”

“Shit! Shit!” Ron panicked.

“Yo!” Pelosi started to walk in their direction.

“We better get out of here. Now.”

All three of them scrambled up to run off back to Trevor’s truck.

“Get back here! Security!” The actor began to chase them, along with one of the Merryweather guards.

They continued to run down the block, Trevor breaking into a sprint so he could start the car up before anyone caught up to them.

“Get in! Get the fuck in!”

The truck revved up, and Trevor drove off in a haste. Even though it didn’t go as planned, Trevor couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Whew! What a rush, huh?”

“Rush?! We almost got caught, Trevor!”

“Yeah, only because Wade couldn’t keep it down for 5 fuckin’ seconds.”

“I’m sorry! That Pelosi guy is famous! I ain’t ever seen a actor up close.”

“Yeah, but he’s already washed up. Nothing special.”

“Isn’t he our age? How can he be washed up if he’s still-“

“Can it, Wade.”

Trevor came to the conclusion that there wasn’t enough visibility of the place from the outside. It didn’t have a single window. He mumbled to himself that he needed to go see a friend of his. The travel to El Burro Heights didn’t take long, with Trevor telling the other two to wait in the truck.

“Ron, please make sure he doesn’t do anything dumb.”

“Got it.”

“It was one time!”

He made his way up the steps, banging on the door. He lifted his head up to the outdoor camera, snarling at it.

“Let me the fuck in Wheels!”

The front door clicked open, and Trevor walked right in. He shut it behind him, and trotted over to a bedroom.

“Trevor. Didn’t think I’d see much of you again.”

“Neither did I old friend.”

“What is it. What do you want.”

The room was lit up with aqua and pink shades, a visual of a permanent sunset on his computer. Some kind of synth music played faintly. A nerdy looking guy was seated in a wheelchair next to a set up that looked like it was pulled right from the 90s, various posters and novelty items strewn about.

“Let me cut to the chase. It’s Merryweather again.”

“Again? Trevor, I thought we agreed you’d leave them alone!”

“Ah ah ah! I didn’t finish, Lest. Get this, there’s some big event going on soon. Steve Haines- some big get together with him and his posse of lame-os.”

“Really? Devin’s letting those guys in? I thought it was all big name people.”

“Yeah, well Steve isn’t exactly poor Lester. I thought we both knew that.”

“Duh, but still. He’s not exactly Devin’s type of crowd.”

“No no no, I think they might be in kahoots. Planning something.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Hmm. Let me see…”

He turned to the computer, clacking away on his keyboard. It was rather vintage looking, and Trevor was surprised it worked at all. Lester was into technology more than he was though, so he probably worked some kind of magic on it.

“Hm. You’re right. Seems like they’ve known one another for quite some time. Guess their dads work together.”

“Fuckin’ daddy’s boys.”

“But, I still don’t think interfering with that party is a good idea.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“You’ve had enough run ins with the both of them already.”

“But if we infiltrated the club, we could get it shut down!”

“What are you planning, some sort of raid? You and your buddies? 2 other people isn’t much to work with if you wanna take down one of the most popular clubs here.”

“That’s why I came to you!”

“For what?”

“So you could do your cyber shit, find the floor plans or something!”

“You know that’s gonna take a long time, right? I mean, getting the blueprints, not to mention finding other people who’re on board with the idea of it all-”

“Well no shit.”

“Are you paying me?”

“What?”

“I said, are you paying me?”

“What the fuck would I need to pay you for?”

“Taking time out of my day to get that done for you.”

“Right. Because you’re sooo busy.”

Lester frowned slightly, upset by the remark.

“I’m gonna just ignore that. Anyway, I’m not asking for a whole lot. Just something for the effort I’m putting in to find the plans.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“What choice do I have?”

“Absolutely none my friend!” He said, grin wide.

“Y’know you’re still gonna need to assemble a crew that doesn’t consist of only your… minions or whatever. That’s your part. Now shoo, let me do my thing.”

“Oh Lester the Molester you never let me down!” He said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“I told you to stop calling me that!”

“Aww, and here I thought you liked it!”

“Just go already. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. No funny business.”

“But funny business is my specialty!”

“Oh my God, go!”

He made his way back over to the truck, seeing Wade passed out in the back. Slamming a hand on the truck bed, he yelled for him to wake up.

“Boys! We got some recruiting to do.”

“Wh-what? What d’ya mean? Who are we gonna find? I thought it was just gonna be us-”

“We’re not taking out one of the biggest clubs in LS on our own, Ron.”

“But I-”

“No buts! Now let’s go.”

They all drove across the city, back to the apartment complex Floyd lived in, Wade’s place being the first one you see pulling in. He had been nice enough to pitch in some cash to pay his rent, seeing as Wade basically had no money to begin with. The trio brainstormed for a bit, chattering away about needing to find people who hated those guys just as much as they did, before Wade and Ron promptly passed out. Trevor threw on a random shuffled playlist to keep him occupied as they slept, and some song he’d never heard before played. Some artist called Grimes? The intro was wobbly, like someone was shaking laminated paper. He kept it on, liking how funky it sounded. The music reverberated loud in his ears, the singer’s voice light and dreamlike compared to the dark, heavy tone of the song. It was the experimental stuff Trevor was into. He opened nosedivr, scrolling through his usual feed. This was a thing he did often when he couldn’t sleep. As he kept going through posts, he noticed he still followed Amanda; they stopped being friends long ago and the task of removing her on there slipped his mind. She had posted a new photo though, and he instantly recognized who she was with just from the shoes. It was that Michael guy.

@krystal-klear-tears

𝔦 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢, 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔫 𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔥 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔶𝔬𝔲.

#grunge aesthetic #lana del rey #lyrics #black and white aesthetic

His finger hovered over the reblog button, and he hesitated. What was he doing right now? He didn’t give a shit who Amanda was with anymore. Michael was just another name, another face, another person she was just gonna dump later on. She could never do commitment. That was the one thing he knew for sure in the period of time they had been friends. Amanda wasn’t exactly a bad person for it, she just didn’t express her feelings in the best way. It was why she jumped from guy to guy. They didn’t need anything more than her facade, her surface level personality. So when the time came that she would be close to showing her true colors, she’d cut them off. Trevor didn’t like that. If there was one thing he truly could not stand, it was people being two-faced. He wished Amanda embraced herself more. But like he said, it was whatever now. Soon enough, he wouldn’t see anymore posts like that.

Still, he figured he could unfollow her another day. Part of him did wanna see how long this one would last. Was that bad? Maybe. Who cares. By the time he had finished scrolling mindlessly on his phone, he’d finally grown tired. He wanted to dream about tomorrow, because tomorrow promised a plan in the works, and it was fucking spectacular. He couldn’t let something so meaningless like a new boyfriend of hers distract him. Yet despite that, he still found himself wanting to know more. This was the first guy in a while that Amanda got with that she didn’t run to tell him about. It felt… strange. But again, he couldn’t let that distract him from what was at the front of his mind. He didn’t have time for that. He had to focus on Merryweather first and foremost. Shutting his eyes, a smile grew on his face. He was finally gonna take those stupid fucks down.

//sorry if these seem short rn,,, it’s gonna be a slow build up tbh. it’ll be worth it later on when i complete future chapters lol. don’t wanna rush it too much ,, also i feel like i’m gonna accidentally make this sound all over the place so uh apologies in advance 💯 i will go into more detail abt amanda n trevor’s friendship in this too btw so expect that eventually ig

[bngtanah]

Red Lips: Love Galore | JK (m)

summary: “Red Lips Always Lie.”  Jungkook was the type of guy your parents always warned you about. Handsome, charming and not to be trusted.

pairing: Jungkook  x Named!Reader genre: angst, smut words: 4.5k chapters: o1| o2| warning: fuccboi!jungkook, smut, black!reader, dirty talk, honestly its just pure filthy, over-stimulation, public sex, bathroom sex, barely a plot, like honestly just a thread of plot, angst, a/n: i am a fool. I accidentally deleted my blog so this is me re-uploading EVERYTHING.

Month Two:  Love Galore Should've never gave you my number I did it with you Should've never let you hit it I split it with you I regret it

Despite the reassurance of her friends, Baby was not, in fact, loving the bar they had settled on occupying for the night. The live band was annoying her, the hordes of seemingly hipster fans they drew in for the night were less that amiable and apparently all of them were freakishly tall; judging by the amount of times she’d been elbowed in the back of her head without even a small apology. A complaint was ever present on the tip of her tongue from the moment they entered the building but she held back for the sole fact that her closest friend, the birthday girl, seemed to be enjoying herself.

That could just be due to the fact that June was a more content person than Baby. She was laid back, easygoing and even if she wasn’t having the best time, there was no way you’d be able to tell just by looking at her face, especially not now while she laughed loudly, all 32 of her pearly white teeth gleaming, at something someone’s date had said along with the rest of the group.

Baby sniffed, adjusting her top and bringing a bottle of beer to her mouth. She hadn’t really been paying attention to anything anyone was saying, her attention focused solely on watching her watch and counting the hours that had passed since Jungkook said he was on his way. For that past month and a half they had been seeing each other pretty regularly. ‘Seeing’ meaning that they spent the better part of every weekend locked up in her apartment or Jungkook’s taking turns making each other orgasm until exhaustion overtook them.

They’d watch movies, talk (mostly about Baby) and sometimes order takeout but the night always ended the same basic way; with Baby face down in a mattress, struggling to keep her back arched as Jungkook took her from behind with no mercy. Then once they were both satisfied he would leave, or she would go home and wait for the routine to begin again the following weekend. It was uncomplicated and exactly what Baby thought she needed. Though honestly, the lack of depth was beginning to eat away at her. As hard as Baby's wished she could be she knew she was a softy at heart who craved attention and concern, so having Jungkook actually show up with her tonight was kind of a big deal.

Her friends still hadn’t met him, despite the amount of time she spent talking about him. Whenever she invited him out with her, there was always something else that came up. He had to work late, or deal with a family emergency or sudden illness that rendered him incapable of leaving his apartment. The excuses upset Baby at the moment but he always seemed to find a way to remedy her anger by showing up at her apartment later in the night. All pressing excuses suddenly resolved for the remainder of the time it took for him to get himself off then, almost magically, the excuses popped up again whenever Baby made the rookie decision of asking if he was staying for the night or attempting to cuddle against him once they were both sated and out of breath.

Baby flinched and immediately reached for her cellphone when Jungkook’s text message came in, fighting to urge to roll her eyes at him asking her to meet him outside without actually SAYING ‘come outside’. She stood to her feet anyway and tried to hide the excitement in her voice when she announced to the table of her peers that she would “Be right back.”

“So when are we going to tell her to stop messing with this dude? Before or after she’s so dickmatized she lets him move in?” June, the birthday girl perked up once Baby was out of earshot.

“If we’re trying to prevent her being dickmatized, I think it’s too late,” Demi chimed in from across the table “We all know the signs and Baby is beyond help.”

“They've been together for, what? A month? No dick is that good” Lisa grumbled into drink. 

“You'd be surprised” June countered, looking forlornly at the entrance of the bar “.... You'd be surprised… “

In Front. 

“Jungkook!” Baby waved as she jogged a few feet down the block “I didn't think you'd make it-”

She never quite got to finish her sentence, the second Baby was within arms reach Jungkook's hands were all over. His burly arms snaked around her waist and pulled her flush against his body. Before she had a chance to question his actions, soft red lips were on hers in the few seconds it took Baby to raise her head. Passionate and unyielding, his kiss engulfed Baby, giving her no choice but to relent and match his efforts. Her arms wrapped around his torso and held him close to her in a vice grip, she could feel him smile against her lips then smooth both his hands down her back until they were both gripping her ass and kneading the plump flesh there as if she were nothing more than a piece of clay.

In a sense she mostly was, each time he put his hands to work on her body Baby became like putty in his grasp. She felt his lips pull back from her own and almost found herself frowning at their absence until she felt him dip down and suction her neck in the exact spot that made her toes curl. Her fingernails pushed into his back and Baby's eyes flew open wide when she felt his right hand move from her ass to grabbing her upper thigh and then vanishing under the hem of her skirt to stroke her from behind.

Immediately Baby put her hands against his chest and pushed him backwards. Or, she attempted to. He was six feet of solid muscle compared to Baby's shorter, much less toned frame so all her push managed to do was make him stop attempting to push her thighs apart further.

"Um...so Hi?" Baby croaked out once she'd managed to move his hands.

"Hey Baby…I missed you" Jungkook replied and moved forward to kiss her again. Baby stopped him this time, pressing her finger against his lips and guided his head backwards.

"So, Maybe you're confused, but I didn't ask to come out with me so you could finger me outside the club!" Baby complained a hushed whisper and attempted to move away but Jungkook's grip on her remained steady.

"C'mon, no one is even paying attention to us" He whispered back and placed another kiss along her jaw. Baby looked to her left and then right and groaned softly when she noticed that he wasn't wrong. There was hardly anyone on the sidewalk and the doorman who kept guard over the entrance seemed to have conveniently disappeared. 

"That's not the point," Baby retorted taking a step back when Jungkook's hold on her waist went slack "I want you to meet my friends, I wanted to have some fun with you outside of a bedroom for once."

Jungkook snickered and shrugged, allowing Baby to loop her arm around his bicep and pull him forward. It seemed like you were having fun already," he grinned and quirked an eyebrow upwards as he brought a glistening finger up to his mouth, humming with delight when he sealed his lips around the digit.

"You're digust- !" Baby exclaimed as she attempted to drag him forward, ignoring the jolt of electricity strike down her spine when he only laughed and smacked his palm harshly against her ass when she moved in front of him.

Baby could hardly contain the pleased grin that spread across her face as she led Jungkook back inside the building. She caught the attention of her friends when they were a few feet from their table, their eyes drifted from Baby to her arm linked with Jungkook then upwards to Jungkook then back down to Baby again.

"So Guys..." Baby practically gushed when they were seated again "This is Jungkook! Jungkook This Is Lisa, Demi, And June - She’s the birthday girl." Baby announced and pointed towards them respectively as she said each of their names. Her excitement was palpable and not nearly as reciprocated on either end. Jungkook was the first to offer a short "’Sup, Happy Birthday" His lips curling up into a playful smile that made Baby's friends grimace slightly. It was a smile they had all seen at one point in their lives and recognized all too well. 

June finally broke the silence and extended her hand forward, encouraging the other two to follow her example. “Thanks. Its nice to finally meet the famous Jungkook, am I saying that right? Juunngkook?” June was slightly tipsy but not drunk enough to cause her words to slur and Baby cringed inside knowing that she was probably stressing his name purposefully. Though Jungkook seemed to take it in stride, chuckling softly at the unnecessary syllables added to his name.

“Yeah that’s close enough, Juuune” he replied with a sly smirk before smacking his palms against the surface of the table and tapping rhythmically. “Since it’s your birthday, how about a round of shots on me?” He didn’t wait for an answer before pushing back from his seat and made eye contact with Baby, jerking his head in the direction of the bar. 

“I’m, uh gonna help him with the glasses” Baby said with a soft smile as she trailed behind him and eventually caught up. Once she reached the Jungkook was already seated with two large shot glasses in his hands. 

“Baby! Do a shot with me,” 

"This looks like more than just one" Baby noted with a grin but took the glass anyway.

"It's a double, I thought you wanted to have fun tonight?" Jungkook asked with a toothy grin before clinking their glasses together and counting backwards from 3. Baby immediately threw her head back on the count of one and puckered her entire face as the alcohol burned down her throat. It took a few seconds for her to open her eyes again and notice that Jungkook's glass was still completely full.

"Jungkook, what the hell!" She complained and playfully tapped his shoulder. "Why buy a shot if you're not going to drink it?"

"I'm going to…" He replied with an indecipherable smile "But I wanna do something first, move your hair outta the way."

"Baby raised an eyebrow at first but eventually did what she was asked, grabbing a large clump of her hair and moving it to the opposite side of her neck. It wasn't until she noticed him coaxing a wedge of lime between her lips that Baby fully understood what was happening. She scoffed a small laugh when Jungkook asked her to close her eyes but did it anyway and flinched slightly when the familiar feeling of his tongue against her neck hit her. He licked a stripe up the side of her neck then gingerly sprinkled a waterfall of salt over the slick area.

"You ready?" Jungkook asked in a seductive whisper and Baby felt his arms pull her closer so that she was slotted between his open legs.

"It's  just a body shot Jungkook, why are you so dramatic?" Baby giggled, her eyes still shut. She blindly reached forward until she could feel his shoulders to rest her hands.

Tension bubbled up and compounded with every second that passed, Jungkook's free hand smoothly moved over her thighs then across her stomach until finally settling on her hips. Heat emanated off his skin making Baby feel oddly suffocated as she felt him move closer, his nose moving slowly up and down against her pulse exhaling warm breath over her throat before placing a few tentative licks on her skin. Then suddenly he pressed his tongue flat against the area of her neck that was covered with salt. His lips attached to the sliver of skin just underneath her earlobe, he suckled gently wrapped his arm completely around Baby's hips to press their lower bodies flush against each other.

Baby whimpered as she felt the capillaries under her skin burst when he detached his lips. In one fluid motion Jungkook swallowed the clear liquid and immediately moved forward to retrieve the lime from Baby's lips. He wrapped his lips around the green fruit slowly, applying pressure and slurping the small amount of juice that tempted to fall from her lips. Their lips barely touched and Baby found herself gripping Jungkook's shoulders tighter the more he sucked and brushed his lips against her own.

Soon the lime was forgotten, snatched from Baby's mouth and tossed into the empty shot glass beside them. Jungkook attacked Baby's lips and she tried not to smile too much as she found herself being pulled closer to Jungkook but she soon gave up that fight as his fingers trailed over her skin. Their lips melded together and Baby felt something stir in her that she was sure she’d never felt before. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled him even closer until she found herself being lifted up slightly and turned so her back was pressed against the edge of the bar. It was slightly uncomfortable but Baby didn’t really seem to mind, if the way she grinned for a few seconds and returned to kissing Jungkook was any evidence.

Baby had never really been an extroverted person, she wasn't shy by any means but she preferred to keep to herself on most occasions. So doing something like this? Making out with someone right up against a bar surrounded by other people was not in her wheelhouse. She didn't know what it was but there was just something about Jungkook that made her want to take risks. Do things she never imagined she would do. Like ask him to press her against the nearest wall and take her right then. Which is something she was seriously considering.

Her mind cleared of the hazy fog once she felt Jungkook's hands maneuvering over her body then holding on to her ass just the way they were outside on the sidewalk. She could tell what he wanted so desperately to feel his hands on, well one of the areas. A possessive growl vibrated against her throat and shook her directly to her core making Baby moan gently in response arch her body more fully against Jungkook's teasing hands. “Touch me” she murmured against him and then kissed him again. 

Jungkook smiled against her lips and immediately responded by standing up and gently guiding Baby backwards until she felt her back hit a wall. They were somewhat secluded, in a corner just off from the bar where there wasn't much foot traffic. Jungkook wasted no time in obliging Baby's request by heisting her left leg high up on his waist and running his hand along the underside of her thigh. His hips instinctively flexed forward and they both groaned simultaneously as the bulge in his jeans pressed against Baby's core. Jungkook exhaled a shuddering breath against her cheek and Baby fought back the urge to reach for the zip of his jeans. 

Her ankle hooked around his leg instead, to keep it in place while his hand massaged it's way up the inside of her thighs. Baby's breath caught in her throat when she felt his hand tease the sensitive nub between her legs and she barely contained the moan that tickled the back of her throat as his lips moved against the skin of her neck. 

Her leg wrapped tightly around his waist once she felt the fabric of her thin underwear being pushed out of the way and Baby groaned against his lips. She was slightly worried about drawing attention to them but then his ring finger slid past her damp entrance and Baby moaned with urgency. She clawed at a few inches of hair at the back of his neck, roughly tugging and pulling him forward until he was snugly fitted into the space of her neck and clavicle. Wet kisses trailed over her flushed skin and Baby pressed both of her palms against the wall for a moment just to steady her stance when a second then third finger entered her and the pad of his thumb ground down harshly against her clit.

A gentle whimper tumbled from her lips at his tentative strokes which were then followed by a satisfied groan once his fingers began moving in earnest inside her. Her hips shot forward and took on a life of their own, gingerly rocking themselves up, down and in tight circles against his fingers. Baby was glad for the fact that she didn’t have to subtly direct him like she usually did with men who had little to no idea what they were doing. He knew exactly where and how to suck on her skin, how much pressure to apply, when to toy with her clit and when to assail her walls with his fingers. He played her like an instrument and despite her best efforts to last any longer, Baby knew it was futile. She was going to come. Hard. She gripped his hair tighter and her hips started to pump in time with his strokes of their own accord.

“SHIT, Jungkook” she whispered. “Oh, God, don’t stop. Please don’t stop." She continued to beg him while his fingers played with her velvet soft walls, his thumb applied more pressure to her clit, and that was the final straw. Baby's eyes slammed shut, her back arched off the pulsating walls of the club, and she wrapped her leg around his thigh even tighter. She shouted his name, not caring if anyone around them heard her falling to pieces at Jungkook's hands. She slowly released her stranglehold on Jungkook and her head rested against the concrete wall behind her, breathing heavily.

A ragged breath tore away from Jungkook's throat, his hand slamming forcefully against the wall next to Baby's head. He pressed his forehead against Baby's and guided her hips forward again, his erection firm and strained as he pressed himself into Baby once more. "God, I wanna fuck you so bad right now," He muttered on her lips, capturing them in another sloppy kiss. His hands tightening their grasp on her waist line "I need to be deep inside you, Baby please" Jungkook pleaded and Baby didn't have it in her heart to ignore his tortured gasps and the pained expression on his face. Her hands firmly clutched the sides of his neck and her thighs trembled when he rolled in his hips forward in a languid and tortuously slow stroke and freely moaned into her mouth.

"Bathroom, 10 minutes."

It took everything in Baby to back away and shuffle out of Jungkook's arms. The shot she took earlier was finally beginning to hit her bloodstream, making her grasp the edge of the bar to steady herself for a moment. Her legs were still far from stable and with every step Baby felt like her knees would buckle. After taking a few seconds to recoup she managed to get a round of shots ordered for her table, using Jungkook's tab and allowing one of the bartenders to deliver the tray along with a birthday message. She thought about going back to her friends, at the very least letting them know that she probably wasn't going to be coming back that night. As she took a step towards her table, Baby's phone buzzed in her back pocket; it was a photo of Jungkook shirtless, his jeans unzipped just enough to free his erection from its denim prison. His hand wrapped firmly around the base of his length and Baby groaned when she read the message attached: 'Please'.

She moved at a breakneck towards the bathroom and the second they were both behind closed doors Jungkook rested his hands on her waist pulled her lips to his and led her back further into the bathroom, deepening the kiss as they took each step. She wanted—needed— him to be inside her so badly that it actually hurt. Her body ached for him in ways that made Baby feel crazed. Once they finally made it against the furthest wall, he didn’t waste any time turning her around so Baby’s back was facing him. His hands ran up and down her bare legs and yanked her damp panties down her smooth legs before he slapped her ass hard, the smacking noise of his action bouncing off the bathroom walls. He stuck her ass out further to him and pushed her skirt up her waist as he guided his cock to her slick entrance, making Baby shiver as his engorged head pushed through her narrow lips, her breath caught in her throat as his cock sunk fully inside of her.

 “Jesus, why do you have such a nice pussy?” He breathed against her shoulder. He took a slow yet shaky breath, pulling his cock out from her cunt slowly one last time. He planted his feet firmly, digging his fingertips into her golden brown skin. He then began to pound his stiff length hard into her cunt, showing no mercy as usual. “You’re so fucking tight, Baby. So fucking good.” Jungkook groaned, tilting his head up to look at the ceiling.

His girth filled her completely, almost to the point of not fitting. “Uhh!” She cried out, her palms pressing tightly against the tiled walls of the bathroom, slowly winding her hips backwards with his as he began to thrust in and out. She chuckled breathlessly when his breath fanned over her shoulder “You like this tight pussy?” She moaned and whipped her head around to smirk at him, her deep brown tresses sweeping off her shoulder as she did.

“I fucking love this tight pussy,” Jungkook pressed his lips against her ear, gnawing at her earlobe tenderly. "I want to live in your walls Baby" He groaned vigorously driving his hips against her, continuing his hot assault on her soaked sex.  Every stroke made her walls tense, greedily trying to keep his slick pole nestled deep inside of her. Baby was sure that she’d have trouble walking properly after this encounter, but she’d live.  “Oh God…” She moaned, arching her back to take his every thrust  “Such a fucking fat cock…filling me up so good,” She whined, resting one of her hands on top of his as he continued to thrust into her.

Baby felt a small bubble of laughter almost slip out of his mouth when she whined about his cock. He licked his bottom lip, then grinned. He seized both of her hands and held them behind her back. “This fucking fat cock happens to enjoy filling you up so good, babygirl.” He kissed behind her ear. He clasped her hands together behind her with one hand as the other one slid down between her legs, pressing his fingers down on her swollen clit. His fingers rubbed quickly over the slippery nub, pounding his cock faster into her hot slit. "Cum when I tell you to" Jungkook growled against her skin.

Each dirty word he spoke made her hotter and wetter. She panted hard, trying to catch her breath between his forceful thrusts. As much as she second guessed her relationship with Jungkook , Baby could never deny that anyone else had made her this wet and turned on in a very long time. She wanted to deny it, but there was something about him…in some weird way he was becoming intoxicating to her. His voice, his  features, his incredible ability to fuck her senseless…she was almost disappointed that they were out instead of in one of their homes knowing that neither of them could go as wild as they wanted to. He was a perfect fit inside her. The soft sucking noises of his length pulling in and out of her lips was the sexiest thing she ever heard…next to his voice. 

As his hand travelled began fiercely rubbing her exposed clit Baby moaned loudly. She knew she wouldn't last much longer like this. Her eyelids slammed shut and Baby felt her knees begin to buckle beneath her as her walls began to constrict around him, pulsing. A simple instruction growled from above her broke her resolve to hold out any longer. “Cum for me, Baby” Jungkook demanded and Baby felt herself fly off the edge. As the heated seconds passed, the pulsing intensified until a fantastic sensation erupted inside of her. “Fuck!” She cried out, her head dropping back and her chestnut colored hair splaying over her shoulders as her walls spasmed hard, bathing Jungkook's probing length in a warm flood of her essence.

He latched his mouth to the gap of her neck and shoulder, sinking his teeth down into her overheated flesh, welcoming the rush of her sweet juices when she came. Despite her throbbing walls growing tight around his shaft, he kept on his fast-moving pace, bucking furiously between her legs. Baby flexed against his arms, trying desperately to free herself from the over-stimulation but it was futile. She groaned with a hoarse scream when she felt her walls spasm again and while she shook vigorously against his body Jungkook knew he was done for. “Shit!” He growled, stilling inside of the brown-skinned beauty. He gripped hard onto her hips, his cock trembling inside of her dripping cunt, spilling his release inside of her. Her pulsating walls still tightened around him, milking every last drop of his seed from his swollen tip, as a large satisfied smile emerged on his face. “Do you… do you wanna come back to my place tonight?” He asked, pulling back until he was no longer inside her. Choosing instead to encircle his arms around her waist. He buried his face in her neck and closed his eyes. Baby leaned back and rested her arms on top of his, using him for leverage as the bones in her legs felt like jelly.

"It's one in the morning Jungkook, I'm not taking a taxi all the way back to Harlem a couple of hours later" Baby sighed, reaching her arms backward to wrap her arms around his neck and Jungkook smirked, kissing the curve of her shoulder. He began a trail of soft kisses up from her shoulder to behind her ear.

"Then stay over, you're off tomorrow right?"

It was stupid; she knew it was but Baby couldn't stop herself from feeling elated at his very basic offer. It was the very first time he'd ever shown any interest in being with after they were done having sex. Obviously his offer was simply a prelude to them doing the same thing at his apartment once again but still.

It was a start.

Back at the table of friends June looked over to the other two girls and sighed. “She's not coming back is she?”

[eerythingisshaka]

Weeding It Out

[Groundskeeper!Chris Evans x Reader]

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: just a roll in the hay

Your patience wore thin as you sat in your backyard.  The goal before summer set was to get your vegetables planted and sprouting by fall but nothing could be done with the yard overrun by a thicket of poison ivy.  Your mother had already gotten her steroid shot after showing you where the best area is to start growing, unbeknownst to her that she waded through a gnarly amount of poison ivy.  You saw the blisters form on her arms and neck, you weren’t risking it.

You could use a nap though, feeling your head jerk backwards under the weight of sleep as the afternoon warmth lulls you.  But the gardener was supposed to be here an hour ago to spray the necessary elements that kill the weed.  If you weren’t so desperate to get it over with you would’ve cancelled long ago but luckily you cleared your afternoon for this.

Your phone dings with a message:

Your groundskeeper, Chris, will be arriving shortly.  Please remember to have someone 18 years of age or older present on the property while the maintenance is performed.

“Finally.”  You get up and make your way to your front door, noticing a truck parked outside.

You squint through the living room and notice the company name on the side.  What he was doing, you couldn’t tell, but you are more than ready to get this show on the road.

You walk towards the truck and knock hard on the passenger window.  The burly looking white dude peers over at you and rolls down the window.

“Ma’am?”  he asks.

“Yeah, are you Chris?  Supposed to have been here an hour ago?”

His face freezes in slow motion, looking at a notebook in his passenger seat and back to you.

“Yeah, sorry about that.  The last job-”

“Ok, it’s fine!  Long as you come on, I don’t have all day.”  You stand outside his truck waiting on him.

Chris squints, anxiously biting his lip.  “Ma’am, I gotta do some paperwork first, then I’ll be right with you.”

You bend into the window.  “You had over an hour of time to do paperwork.  And as a PAYING customer, I expect timely service or I can just find a manager who can serve me better.”

Chris rolls his window up and gets out of the car.  This comment may have struck a nerve in him, but you don’t care.  He struck your nerve first, why be polite when the rudeness arrived on time by being late.

He goes to the bed of his truck digging out a tool box and some hose contraption.  

“You have big arms for a gardener,”  you say matter-of-factly to him, lingering your gaze along sculpted mounds that make up his biceps.  Of course gardeners lug bags of soil and work with tools and heavy machinery sometimes, but dude was cut.

He closes the back of his truck, stopping short in front of you.  “What is that supposed to even mean?  You think I just pick flowers all day?”

You raise your hands in surrender.  “Isn’t that a compliment in the end?  You’re giving this attitude that I cannot be receptive to, despite how pretty you are.”

He scoffs, looking off toward your house.  His jawline is strong underneath the chestnut collared beard, it’s so obvious he is fine with or without it.  Quite the unicorn.  Even his odd length locks give off a vibe that tempted you to pull it back and give those baby blues more spotlight.

“Is the problem this way?” he asks, pointing to the gate leading to the backyard.  You nod and follow behind his perky behind.

Entering the backyard, Chris lets out a whistle. 

“And remind me how much work I’m doing in this jungle today?”  He walks slowly around the overgrown parts, shouldering his way past some vines.

You stammer past your embarrassment.  “I have added plants for aesthetic, thank you!  All I need is the poison ivy knocked out in that corner.  I can’t have that shit turning me into a mess.”

Chris looks back at you sarcastically.  “Right, that'll do it.  And these are all just weeds-”

“No opinions!  Get to work!”  You command, sitting back on your wicker seat to watch him work.  Chris sets down his box and pulls out gloves, a solution bottle, some handheld clippers, and a mask.  Putting it on, he looks toward the corner you pointed out and meanders over there carefully.  You can tell he lifts something other than flowers with a wide back like his and shoulders giving you more views than the nature surrounding him.  

The ivy falls to the ground as he snips away at it.  You sigh happily feeling your ancestors pride at the white man tilling your grounds.  

As he pulls out his bottle of solution, hooking it up to a hose he says, “You may want to step inside.  This isn’t safe to inhale and any wind could blow it on you.”

You shrug, getting up cheerily.  “Fine with me.  I needed a drink anyway!  Like I said, just don’t get into my other plants please.”

In your fridge you pull out a pitcher of lemonade you made fresh from powder.  You pour a glass for yourself and walk back to the sliding glass door to check out his handiwork.  Chris certainly came off as a professional, spraying only the necessary amount on certain parts of the plant.  His brow furrowed as he kept track of each misting of his equipment, working deeper into the brush.  

You hadn’t seen a man of his pedigree in a while.  Fit, fine, and fixes shit?  That checks your most important boxes of what stirs your pot in a partner.  You take a slow sip of the semi sweet drink and let the chill liquid do its work on cooling your thirst as Chris walks back out from the poison ivy area to take his shirt off.

You almost spat all over your glass as you stood further to one side so you weren’t fully visible.  As he peels his shirt off, you got the behind the scenes look of what he had to work with.  His pants ride low on his hips, exposing the dips in his hips that naturally lead your eyes to what his zipper hides.  The feathering of hair that outlines his pecs and down the middle of his stomach forced you to bite your fingernails to keep from reaching through the glass.  He folds his shirt hastily in a ball form and tosses it on his toolbox, resting his hands on his hips until he looks over at the other side of your yard.  He struts over to some of your vines, showing off his back end some more, giving them a once over before getting down on his knees taking off his gloves and pulling at the roots.

Your instincts jump into action as your set aside your drink and rush over to him.  

“Hey!  I said no!”  When you reach him he is still pulling at the ground.  You feel like it’s a trap to tap him on the shoulder since his skin is exposed and you weren’t shy about how you thought he looked earlier, but to hell with it.

Tap Tap.  “Chris!  You’re ruining my flower bed.”

Chris stops with a huff before looking at your and pulling you by the hand down next to him.

“You haven’t done anything to this ground, have you?”  He asks, digging his hands deep into the soil.  

You smack off the excess dirt he got on you.  “I spread some seeds once a while back,”

He chuckles, stopping to look at you like a lecturing parent.  “If that’s how the world worked, it would look a lot like your backyard.”

“My yard is fine!  And what do you mean, it’s growing,” you say with a pout.

“No, it’s suffocating.  That’s why you need to weed all this, it will overpower what you want to grow and kill it.  Look…”  he firmly grasps your hand and sticks it in the soil, making you snicker.

“See how dry the top layer is?  And I even see some seeds that barely sprouted and aren’t worth growing.  But dig a little deeper and you see those roots that are thick and long?  Those are weeds.  They survive on almost nothing because they parasite off of anything.”

You feel the cool soft soil he dug up, squishing it in your fingers.  “That really is nice soil.”

Chris scratches his neck.  “Yeah, it’s just bad when you don’t treat it right.  I can come back and show you if you want?  Make up for the trouble of being late.”

“Thanks, I would like that.”

You both sit in silence a minute, digging around the dirt for weeds and things, running across a snail shell.

“Ooh!  Look!”  He crawl on your knees toward him holding the delicate artifact.  “I loved finding these when I was a kid.”  You took his hand and dropped the shell in his palm.  “But Lord forbid if I ran across a snail in one, I flipped my wig!”

Chris holds it between his thumb and index finger, looking at you inquisitively.  “They don’t bite, you know.”

“I know, they were just slimy and gross.  Keep that one, I’ll find another I’m sure.”  You get back to tearing into the ground.

“Why did you laugh earlier when I pulled you down?  I thought you would snap my head off for putting you in the dirt,” he asks.

“Well I was startled at best, but it reminded me of how my Grandmother taught me about yard work and her flowerbed and shit.  I wouldn’t get near it if she wasn’t dragging me to it.”

“And how would she feel about your yard now?”  Chris asks with a slight smirk.  

“WOW!  Yeah she is rolling over in her grave, thanks Chris!”’ You say in a serious tone but smile the whole way through it, bringing out his laugh.  “And put your shirt back on, you ain’t that hot out here.  I mean, it’s not that hot out here.”

Chris shakes his head.  “I didn’t take it off for you...poison ivy can affect you if you touch anything that touched it, hence my shirt.”

You give a guttural laugh.  “Uh huh, likely story.”

Chris smacks the dirt off his hands, resolving himself.  “Then go get the damn shirt if you’re so confident.  See what pops up in the next morning or two.”

You cross your arms indignantly.  “I ain’t doing shit for you.  You work for me!  Think you so cute, probably pull shit like this on old white women but I ain’t-”

Chris pulls you closer to him by your wrists, saying in a tone coming from the depths,  “You’re a little stuck up for my taste.”

This sudden change in his demeanor triggered your fight response.  You wrangle your wrists free and start to get up but trip on a hole in the dirt, falling partially on Chris as he tries to catch you.  You knock some wind out of him as he lets out an oof.  

“Ow, shit.  Are you ok?”  You ask with a wince.

Chris holds you in his arms staring up at you with a wide eyed wonder.  You feel his heartbeat under your hands thumping hard.

You look down at his hairy chest and paw at its texture curiously.

“What do you want to do?”  he asks.  

You plant your lips on his right pec, feeling him inhale against your mouth.  You let out a deep satisfied moan for having achieved one desire.

Chris’ hands feel down your back and across your shorts, pulling your upward.

“Take them off,” he commands, helping you with the button and zipper.

You stand over him, pulling down your shorts and panties.  “I have wanted to put your face in the dirt since you came here.”  

Chris looks up at you with one hand behind his head, smiling.  “Oh yeah?”

“But this seems like a better idea, just don’t get cocky about it.”  You hover yourself over him before settling knees, sitting your pussy right on his mouth, beard tickling the inner softness of your thighs.  You rode your lips over his, using his hair as your reins.  His hands grip your cheeks sturdily as he works his tongue over your labia liberally, then finding your center to tongue fuck your walls.  

You sit up, resting yours hands on his chest behind you.  “If you don’t suck my clit, I swear to God.”

His eyes smile at your before your lips surround your clit and put in the work you required all this time.  So much for not getting cocky.  You buck against his mouth, fighting your body’s desire to flee from the over stimulation but Chris’ forearms lock your thighs down to keep you in place.  Your climax ran over him several times as you shrieked to the sun without a care of who heard.  

Before you knew it, Chris rudely flips you off of him, turning you over in the dirt.

“Just so you know the feeling is mutual.”  His hand lifts you ass up as you sputter weed clippings from your mouth.  

“I knew you weren’t shit,”  you say, looking back at his to see him having pulled down his pants, stroking his fully ready member and headed straight for you-

Your phone rings, waking you up from a deep nap.  

“Shit!  What the fuck!”  You curse in confusion as you drunkenly reach for your phone that fell off into the grass.

“Hello!”  you say loudly.

“Yeah, sorry for the late arrival, but I am at your front door.  This is Chris with the grounds keeping company.”

You almost drop the phone and run to the door.  How was that dream so vivid to not be real?  

You peek through the front door but the guy is facing away, so you open it reluctantly.

“Sorry, I dozed off there,” you say meekly.

The deja vu you feel when he turns around almost knocks you backwards.  The same hair, beard, wide shoulders.  But this time he was a lot more smiley on introduction.

“Hi I’m Chris.  You needed help with your back garden?”  he asks.

You lick your lips, put on a smile and ask, “Yes.  But how about a drink first?”

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@chaneajoyyy​

[lakesandquarries]

Jump the Fence Part One: Something Out Of Nothing

chapter one:  started with a big bang

summary: Post Black Mesa, things get weird. Well, weirder. The Science Team is back, but it's not just them, and Gordon has to learn how to readjust.

notes: series title from “jump the fence” by mother mother, chapter and fic title from “infinitesimal” by mother mother. this is part one of a four part fic and should be about 3 chapters. maybe.

AO3 Link 

Gordon wakes up on his couch, face pressed against the cushions. He’s sore in places he didn’t know existed and exhausted in a way that goes past physical, but mainly he’s confused. For a moment he just lies there, staring at the dark brown fabric of his couch, appreciating the fact that he’s alive. It’s only when he tries to sit up that he realizes things are off.

His hand is missing, replaced by a prosthetic. An admittedly cool looking one, sleek and orange, but - that wasn’t supposed to be real. It was all just a game - or a dream? His VR stuff is nowhere to be seen, and he did essentially just wake up. So why the fuck is he missing a hand now?

A sharp buzz interrupts his thoughts. His phone is on the coffee table next to him, ringing loudly. Gordon lets out a goran, rolling over to grab at it as it screams at him. The caller ID just says “Unknown.” Never a good sign.

“Fuck it,” he says out loud, and answers the call. “Hello?”

“Hello, Gordon!” A familiar voice says, and for a second Gordon thinks he might cry.

“Dr. - Dr. Coomer? Is that you?”

“Indeed it is!” Coomer responds.

“Holy shit,” Gordon says. “Holy shit.”

“I completely agree,” Coomer says, and in the background Gordon can hear other muffled voices.

“Is - is that Bubby?”

“Yes! Tommy is here as well, along with Sunkist!”

“Can you put me on speaker?”

There’s silence, followed by a very muffled conversation where Gordon can just make out Tommy’s voice.

“Mr. Freeman?”

“Tommy!”

“I’m here too, you know,” Bubby cuts in, and there’s a bark in the background.

“It’s so good to hear you guys,” Gordon says, and he means it. He’s smiling so wide that his cheeks hurt.

“I’m very glad to hear you as well, Gordon. However there’s a few things I must ask you! First of all, where are you right now?” Dr. Coomer asks.

“Uh, my apartment. Why?”

“Do you have a car?” Bubby asks.

“Yeah.”

“We may need some assistance,” Dr. Coomer continues. “For you see, we are all still in Black Mesa!”

“What’s left of it, at least,” Bubby grumbles.

“What do you mean?” Gordon asks, running his hand through his hair. Oh, that feels weird with the prosthetic.

“It’s real fucked up,” Bubby says, which explains absolutely nothing.

“It looks like it got hit by the Tri-State Tornado of 1925,” Tommy says, which also explains nothing.

“The most "extreme" tornado in recorded history was the Tri-State Tornado , which spread through parts of Missouri , Illinois , and Indiana on March 18, 1925. It is considered an F5 on the Fujita Scale , even though -”

“Cool, got it, thank you Dr. Coomer.” God, he missed them. Granted, he’s only been apart from them for like ten minutes, but that was ten minutes where he thought he would never see them again. “Right, okay, do you guys need me to come get you?” Oh, fuck, are they gonna need somewhere to stay?” With the initial excitement of hearing his friends fading, Gordon is starting to realize the actual logistics of this. Three entire people have apparently sprung into existence in a place that doesn’t exist. Plus a dog. Where are they gonna stay?

“I don’t wanna be here a second longer than I have to,” Bubby says. “How the hell did you get to wake up somewhere new while we’re all stuck in this shit hole?”

You’re not real, Gordon thinks but doesn’t say. “I dunno, man.” He puts his own phone on speaker, opening the maps app. How the fuck is he gonna find a place that doesn’t exist?

Except when he opens the app it shows him places he has saved. Right under Home is Work, and work is apparently located at “Black Mesa Research Facility”.

“What the fuck,” he says.

“What?” Tommy asks. “Is something wrong, Mr. Freeman?”

“Everything’s fine,” Gordon says. He doesn’t wanna reveal anything to them, not yet at least. That's not a conversation to have over the phone. “I’ll be there in 20, okay? I’m gonna hang up while I drive but call if - if anything happens. I’ll be there soon.”

“We’ll see you then, Gordon,” Dr. Coomer says, and with an echoing bye from the three of them, he hangs up.

---

He spends the drive over having a mild panic attack. The route feels at once new and familiar, roads he recognizes moving in ways that feel just a little off. Even the music on the radio seems weird, though that might just be his imagination - he doesn’t actually listen to the radio that often.

Black Mesa isn’t a far drive. Gordon can imagine working there, picking an apartment based on location, commuting everyday. But Black Mesa isn’t real . Or, it wasn’t, until today. Because regardless of what he remembers, he pulls into the parking lot and the building is right there.

He understands what the Science Team was talking about, now. The glass windows are all shattered, the door completely smashed. He carefully picks his way inside, avoiding especially large shards, and the front desk has been crushed by a fallen chunk of ceiling.

He opens his phone and redials Dr. Coomer’s number, hoping for a quick response. He picks up almost instantly. “Hello, Gordon!”

“I’m here! I’m in the front lobby, I think? The aboveground part. Where are you guys?”

“We’re in the main building! I suppose it would be easier for us to come to you, though, wouldn’t it, Gordon?”

“I really do not wanna go any deeper into this place,” Gordon admits. Coomer chuckles.

“I don’t blame you! Well, we’ll start trying to find our way up. Don’t go anywhere!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Gordon says, and he hangs up again.

He does a little exploring as he waits for the Science Team, wandering around the remains of the lobby. The ceiling has almost completely caved in, but he manages to find a small waiting area that's semi-intact, with one chair left miraculously unscathed. He takes a seat, looking over the assorted magazines left on the table. A couple he even recognizes. He flips through them quickly, and quite a few reference Black Mesa, mentioning their research in fields from genetic engineering to theoretical physics. Apparently the experiment that got them attention in the first place was a successful sheep cloning done decades ago, and that got them enough funding to branch out into other things.

What the fuck.

Well, no one’s here anymore. Can’t hurt if he just...takes them.

It’s then that he hears voices, distant and indistinct, but Gordon knows his friends well enough by now. He scoops up the magazines and starts heading towards the noise, grabbing the handle to the stairwell just as Coomer pulls it open. Gordon’s pulled with it, colliding with Coomer’s burly chest.

“Hello, Gordon!” Coomer says, wrapping him up in a hug.

“Hi Dr. Coomer,” Gordon wheezes as Coomer’s arms squeeze all the air out of him. He finally releases Gordon, who has to take a second and lean against the wall to get his breath back. Tommy pats him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man,” he says. Tommy beams at him. “Fuck. Okay. It’s good to see you guys again,” Gordon says, some of the tension leaving his shoulders for the first time since he woke up. “Whadya say we get out of here?”

“Please,” Bubby says.

Gordon leads them to the car. Tommy calls shotgun as soon as they step outside, which Gordon is happy to oblige, and soon enough they’re on the road.

“So, I’m not gonna have space in my apartment for everyone to stay. What do you guys think of getting a hotel?”

“We don’t have any money, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy says, turning his pockets inside out.

“It’s cool, I figured I’d cover it.” He doesn’t really have the money for this but it’s fine. It’s fine! He’ll work something out.

There’s a pretty decent hotel a couple blocks from his apartment. Gordon had stayed there once when the electricity got all fucked up and couldn’t get fixed for a week, and for a few dudes who have presumably lived in Black Mesa their whole lives it’s probably gonna seem amazing .

“They better have a hot tub,” Bubby says from the backseat. Gordon glances in the rearview mirror to see him scrunched up sideways in the middle seat, leaning against Coomer. Neither of them have their seat belts on, though somehow Sunkist does.

“Guys, come on. Wear your seatbelts.” He waits until he hears the click to keep talking. “I’m pretty sure they have one. Shit, maybe I’ll stay with you guys too. Be nicer than my apartment.”

“Uh, Mr. Freeman?”

Gordon risks a glance at the passenger seat. Tommy’s staring intently at his phone, propeller hat spinning slowly. “Whats up?”

“My dad just messaged me,” Tommy says. Gordon almost considers pulling over and demanding to see the texts. “He, uh, he said I can come stay with him?”

“I thought you were an orphan?” Bubby asks, leaning forward and grabbing onto Gordon’s seat.

“It’s complicated,” Tommy says. “But, uh, if you guys wanna come stay too, I’m sure it’ll be fine!”

Bubby makes a thoughtful noise. “Wait, is your dad the weird guy in the suit who was at Chuck E Cheese? Fuck no, I’m not staying with him.”

“I’d like to stay with Bubby,” Coomer says.

“Okay, well, I’ll guess we’ll...split up, then. Coomer and Bubby can get a hotel, Tommy stays with his dad, I go home.”

“We’ll see each other again though, right?” Tommy asks, eyebrows furrowed.

Gordon and Coomer both say “Of course!” at the exact same moment. Gordon keeps one hand on the wheel as he reaches over to Tommy and rests the other on his knee. “You guys are stuck with me whether you like it or not. Science Team stays together.”

Tommy pats his hand, and doesn’t say anything else as they pull into the parking lot of the Los Gatos Garden Inn. The four of them shuffle into the lobby, Sunkist staying in the car - windows rolled down, of course. Tommy and Coomer immediately get distracted by the tourist brochures, even though most of them advertise places a long drive from where they are. Bubby, at least, is being helpful. Sorta.

“Just so you know, we only have singles available right now. That’s a room with just one bed,” the receptionist informs them.

Gordon turns to Bubby. “You and Coomer gonna be okay with that?”

Bubby hunches his shoulders up. “I can sleep on the floor if I have to,” he says.

“If you insist.”

Gordon books it. It’s not as bad as he was worried it would be, but still, he has a need to check his bank account. To his surprise, when he opens his banking app, he’s informed that he has nearly a million dollars that were just deposited. Clicking the deposit gives him no useful information, the source being a string of glitched out text.

Okay. Sure. Fine! Why not.

Bubby’s eyeing him strangely, like he wants to ask something, but Gordon ignores him. “Okay! Coomer, Bubby, you guys are set. Do you, uh...need anything?” Oh, shit, they don’t have any stuff, do they? Everything they owned is probably still in Black Mesa, if it even existed in the first place. “Do we need to go shopping?”

Bubby picks up the collar of his lab coat, sniffs it, and recoils. “Yes, we do.”

“Alright. Let’s fucking…go to Target, I guess?”

---

Wrangling the three of them through Target may actually be harder than getting through Black Mesa. It feels like every second someone is wandering off, getting sidetracked by something. First it’s Bubby insisting he needs some space suit pajamas, then Tommy discovering the toys section, then Coomer harassing some random employee he somehow mistook for Gordon. At least Sunkist is behaving. She doesn’t have a leash, but she stays near Tommy anyway and doesn’t run off once.

“Guys, we do not need all this,” Gordon says as Tommy stacks a third 12-pack of soda in the cart. “We’re just getting the essentials. Some clothing, toothbrushes, that sorta thing. Okay?”

He feels like he’s aged several years by the time they make it out. But they’re out, and Gordon’s bank still says it has a ridiculous amount of money, and they have everything they could need for the next while, so. Gordon’s feeling confident. He drops Bubby and Coomer off at the hotel, helping them carry everything inside. They’ll be okay there. It’s one of those hotels you can basically live in long term, with a minikitchen and everything. He wonders how the single bed is gonna go.

Well, not his problem.

“Alright, next up is to take you to your dad’s, right?”

Tommy nods, buckling his seatbelt, then rattles off the address. Gordon plugs it into his gps. It’s barely ten minutes from his apartment.

Gordon’s running out of things to say, but Tommy seems content with the silence. They’ve never really gotten to have a peaceful quiet like this. In Black Mesa quiet moments never lasted very long, and the day has been extremely hectic. It’s not until Gordon is pulling up to Tommy’s house that he feels the need to speak.

“Holy shit , dude. Your dad lives in a fucking mansion. Why were you staying in the Black Mesa dorms?”

“I-it’s company policy, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy says, wringing his hands together. Gordon doesn’t press. Probably didn’t exist in the game - though in that case, how does it exist now?

He can worry later. Tommy’s getting out of the car, and Gordon offers to help him carry stuff but Tommy assures him he’s fine. Gordon’s glad, to tell the truth - he doesn’t wanna risk interacting with G-Man again.

“I’ll see you later, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy says as he waves goodbye, and Sunkist gives a single farewell bark.

“See ya soon, Tommy,” Gordon says, and he drives off.

[timextoxhajima]

I Wish (Part IV, Continuing from When You Love Someone)

Group: DAY6

Genre: DAY6 TRILOGY CONTINUATION (What Can I Do, I Loved You, When You Love Someone)

A/N: After like 4 years of people trying to get me into Day6, I’m finally here with What Can I Do playing on repeat in the bg to help me vibe with what I’m writing. Biggest thank you to the person who got me into this mess, I might just cry with how many things I have up my sleeves now.

"3... 2... 1... Younghyun! I'm coming to find you!”

!Younghyun covers his mouth with glee, listening to his best friend run down the hallway and right past the cabinet he was hiding in.

"Jieun, please be careful down the stairs!" He heard his mother calling out from downstairs.

"Okay!" Jieun's voice rings through the house as her footsteps trace back down the steps. Younghyun closes one eye to look through the gap between the two doors, watching Jieun return up to the second floor.

"Younghyun!" The eight year old boy covers his mouth, preventing himself from laughing. Hide-and-seek is an important game ans he cannot lose to a girl.

"Younghyun~!" She shouts in a sing-songy voice, closer to the cabinet than he would like her to be. Then Jieun suddenly turns to the cabinet, catching that little glimmer in her eyes when she realised he could be hiding in there.

Younghyun's mother can hear the excited screams and yells from the second floor when she assumes Jieun has found her son hiding in his favourite hiding spot, the sound of their laughter only bringing her joy and comfort.

In the night, Younghyun's mother leaves two waterbottles outside the tent they were sleeping in (that was pitched in Younghyun's room) before leaving, turning off the lights before closing the door behind her. Younghyun crawls out, grabbing a torchlight and shining the bright beam at Jieun's gameboy as it beeps to life.

Little did they know it would be the last time they could do that, or even fit into the tent.

Younghyun was a quick-witted child, understood things faster than normal kids would. Jieun's pink-blushed face was looking down at him through the window of the passenger's seat infront as her father thanks Younghyun's parents for the three-week-long babysitting.

"Where is she going? Why is she leaving? Is she coming back? Did I do something wrong?"

Jieun's father squats and pats Younghyun's head, offering the child a look of apology that he will not understand for the next five years or so.

"We'll come back to visit, okay? Thank you for taking care of my Jieun for me."

It's like the adult thinks he can replace Younghyun's best friend when he hands him a toy robot. Jieun's eyes are unable to peel away from Younghyun when the car jerks after her father shuts the car door. Younghyun's mother is desperately wiping her son's face and holding him in his arms while he watches the car drive off.

"We'll come back to visit" is one of the biggest lies an adult can tell a child.

Younghyun jerks awake from his sleep, the alarm jolting him out of his nightmarish memory. Slamming a hand down into the alarm clock, he shuts it off and sits up, fingers running through his hair with his eyes still closed.

Kim Jieun... do you not remember me?

Park Jaehyung and Kim Jieun look a little too close for Younghyun's liking, but what can he say? They had sleepovers when they were 8 years old -- had her father not dragged her halfway across the country then, he would be in Jaehyung's place right now.

Funny how all three new students were all dumped in his class though. Kim Jieun, Yoon Dowoon and Park Jaehyung. Yet, while Jieun and Jaehyung looked like they were having the time of their lives, Dowoon seemed like he'd be better off dead.

"Hi, are you three doing alright in school?" Jieun looks up to Wonpil, eyes halved into crescents as he does his job of being the class president. Younghyun watches Jieun and Jaehyung nod and thank him, but Dowoon's earpieces were shoved so far into his ear canals, Wonpil goes unheard.

"Yah," Younghyun is surprised when Jieun drops honorifics when she calls out to Dowoon. "He's talking to us."

Dowoon gives her a side stare, and proceeds to continue ignoring her.

"I'm sorry, he's been going through a hard time since the move. He'll be up and around in due time." Looking over at Dowoon again, she tries once more to get his attention.

“It’s okay,” Wonpil shakes his head, gently blocking her from reaching out to him. “I get it. He just needs time.”

Wonpil nods, giving Dowoon one more glance before returning to his seat. At the end of the day, Younghyun and Jieun had been rostered to clean the classroom, so he feels nothing but discomfort when she exhibits the diligence she was already known for back then. Picking up the mop and the broom, she starts cleaning the floor without hesitation, without giving Younghyun a second look.

Does she not remember me or--

"Kang Younghyun."

It feels like his heart had just been stabbed by an electric rod, and it takes mountainous effort for him to contain the shock and surprise he was about to barf out.

"Can you do your job?"

The boy rolls his eyes, frustrated and frankly, a little hurt that she doesn't remember him. A painful wincr of a smile shows up on his lips when she comes over, handing him one of the mops.

How many ‘Kang Younghyun’s are there anyway? Do I even look that different? Just what is keeping her from--

"When were you ever this useless?"

His eyes dart up from the table to hers, face blank but eyes full of meaning.

"I'll admit that I didn't recognise you the other day when we bumped into each other," Younghyun's heart is about to lurch out of his chest. "But it clicked so..."

The world is silent for some seconds. Younghyun's heart is yearning to reach out and hug her for he had lost the one thing he would have rather had for the rest of his life. But Jieun would probably take it the wrong way... or rather -- his replacement might not like it.

"How are you?"

The question takes Younghyun by surprise. Why did it take her so long to finally ask this? He, unfortunately, cannot swallow his pride and take her into his arms the way he wants to. 

“I’m fine,” He spits, grabbing the mop and moving off to mindlessly paint the floor with water that he wasn’t even sure was clean. Jieun's eyebrows flatten against her features, confused but silent in understanding. She can only imagine how angry he was, and when a child’s anger goes unanswered, unfixed for a decade... it turns into something of a grudge that she isn’t sure she can undo. 

Younghyun carelessly flings the mop around the space, the water sprinkling on all kinds of surfaces before Jieun runs over, nearly wishing to shove the mop into his face. 

How immature can he get, over something that wasn’t in my control?

“Younghyun--”

“I’ve done my job,” Offering her the most nonchalant smile he can force onto his lips, he raises a fist in a bid to ‘encourage’ her. Jieun huffs in disbelief, hand running through her hair as he leaves the classroom. “Have fun.”

Jieun: i can’t believe he was such a jerk about it

You: doesn’t he know you couldn’t have done anything about it anyway

Jieun: i don’t know

Jieun: i just wish he knows i was just as sad as he was when my dad brought me away

You: maybe you need to give him time, like dowoon does

Jieun: sigh

Jieun: you’re right

Jieun: you’re there already, aren’t you? 

You: yeah, what’ya want?

Jieun: nah, i’m okay. i’ll be back a little later though, had to clean up whatever younghyun didn’t

You: alright

Jieun: see you later!

Pausing right outside the cafe, Jaehyung locks the phone and sucks in a deep breath, the transparent glass providing him with a flawed view of the barista. Failing to remember the last time he had such a huge crush on someone he doesn’t even know, he gathers his courage in the palms of his sweaty hands as he pushes himself into the cafe.

“Welcome!” Her voice sounds like wind chimes and bells. “Oh! It’s you!”

“Right, hi,” Get your shit together, man. 

“I’m guessing two milkshakes?” My God, that smile should be illegal.

“Uh-- just one today, actually.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widen, enlarging all the sparkles in her eyes. “Do you want to try something else?” Leaning forward over the counter, she points to the menu board stuck upright. “You can try the cold brew coffee. It’s a new item and I’ve tried it myself, pretty refreshing.”

“Okay, sure.”

That was too quick a response, man. 

“Alright! Just give me a few minutes.”

I’ll give you all the time you need.

There was a struggle to contain all that admiration and envy for just a single person. When she brings the cup of coffee over, it looks like an angel serving you a cup of heaven.

She smiles not with her lips, but with her eyes, and Jaehyung cannot help but to purse his lips in a bid to contain his happiness. 

"I'm sorry, he's been going through a hard time since the move. He'll be up and around in due time."

Younghyun shifts his weight to the side, brain empty of thoughts besides thinking of the way Jieun spoke to Yoon Dowoon, spoke of Yoon Dowoon. The arcade had an occasional jingle sound to it due to the bell hung on the door, coupled with the rapid shooting from FPS games and then there’s the incessant smashing of game console buttons--

“Get out of my seat, cunt.”

Younghyun’s ears are drawn to the familiar voice -- a big burly dude who didn’t do much but torment the kids in the arcade. He knows better not to interfere so he plasters his attention back to the motorbike racing game he was on. 

“But I don’t see your name on the console.”

The voice wrings Younghyun out of his virtual competition, an instinct telling him to get up and stop the impending disaster. He couldn’t decide if it was because he knew the big guy was a bully, or if he’s figured out that Yoon Dowoon must be related to Jieun of some sorts.

“You little--” Yoon Dowoon braces himself for impact, arm covering his head, until he hears a thud right above him. His eyes travel up, logic taking awhile to settle around his saviour’s facial features as the bully’s wrist is held tightly in someone else’s palm. 

“He’s got a point. Console doesn’t have your name on it.”

Dowoon frowns when he connects the dots, suddenly more agitated that he needs another boy to help him out of his misery. Out of annoyance, and of the many options he could’ve chosen to carry out, he chooses to storm off.

Younghyun smirks to himself, letting out a chuckle of disbelief.

Dowoon finds himself stranded along the roadside after he’s bought himself a little bottle of milk, the kind that his father used to get for him when he was a kid, before his mother had chosen to remarry one of the richest Kims in the country. 

He fiddles with the ointment and the single hard-boiled egg in his pocket, silently hoping that if his classmate wouldn’t appear from the corner and beat him into a pulp the way he probably had been, Dowoon could show some kind of gratitude. 

Speaking of the Devil, Younghyun turns round the corner, slight frustration overwhelming his eyes when he spots Dowoon candidly sipping on his milk.

“You really know how to run away from a fight, don’t you?” He grabs the chair and plops himself down, already ready to shove that bottle of milk down Dowoon’s mouth for ditching him. Licking the corner of his bottom lip, he manages to restrain himself from wincing.

Dowoon pulls out the ointment and hard-boiled egg, gently pushing it across the table. The gesture catches Younghyun off-guard, a second smile of disbelief surfacing on his lips.

“Were you just waiting for me to show up so you could hand me these?”

Dowoon mischievously raises a brow, taking a loud sip from his milk. “Mhm.”

Younghyun cannot help but snort at Dowoon’s daring nature before he picks the egg up and rubs it across his cheekbone. 

“So,” Dowoon doesn’t hesitate to start. “What’s your relationship with Jieun?”

The smile falls from Younghyun’s face, and Dowoon isn’t an idiot. Contrary to his silent demeanor, he used to be known for being able to read people easily. 

“I see the way you look at her, and when you were rostered to stay back to clean up the classroom today... I heard a bit of it.”

Refusing to admit that he’s just been exposed, Younghyun cracks the egg on the tabletop. Begins to peel the shell of the milky white interior. The last few sips of Dowoon’s milk becomes particularly loud when he puts in the extra effort to suck it up, then he throws it in a nice toss into the nearest dustbin.

“You don’t have to hide anything, you know,” Dowoon says with calm in his voice. “It’s not like I’ll tell her anything. We might live in the same house but I know to protect a man’s pride.”

He can feel his saviour’s eyes pierce through his skull as he says those exact words. Good, I got it spot on.

“Same house, huh?” Younghyun takes a bite from the egg. “I’m guessing this is why she moved away ten years ago.”

It was Dowoon’s turn to fall silent, simply because he must’ve been crying about his father leaving him somewhere on the other side of the country too. 

“Why’d you guys move back here then? Only recently?”

“Mother invested in some new apartments nearby, got the suite and dumped us there.”

Younghyun hums, chewing on the egg yolk. “And... Jaehyung?”

Dowoon studies Younghyun’s inability to look at him in the eye. He’s jealous of Jieun’s best friend.

“You’ll find out when you ask Jieun yourself.”

[softdadcarlos]

Union

Masterlist

Fandom: Resident Evil/Biohazard

Pairing: Jill/Carlos

AU: Post-RE3 Carlos and Jill

Summary: Three years after Raccoon City, Carlos and Jill settle down.

Requested by @stardustfalling​ I hope you enjoy as this is the second half of your request! The wedding scene is really short because I hate weddings.

The first time Carlos met the team that Jill considered family was… tense to say the least. Mainly due to the fact that he used to be part of Umbrella’s clean up team.

The friendly chatter outside the front door came to an uneasy hush when Carlos opened it to them. Of course it would, they didn’t know the man, so it didn’t surprise Carlos one bit. Instead, he greeted them with a smile and stepped out the way so they could enter.

“Welcome, you must be Jill’s friends! Come in, she’s in the living room.”

He led them through and took a seat next to Jill, who reached out and held his hand to ease his nerves. He wasn’t blind to there glares he was getting. Especially the big burly man who, from the descriptions Jill gave him, he guessed was Chris. The short girl with short hair looked more concerned than anything, she must have been Rebecca. There were three people that he didn’t know, a blonde dude and brunette with long hair and a little girl…

Jill was quick to begin introductions, “Carlos, this is Chris, Rebecca, Claire - Chris’ kid sister, her boyfriend Leon and Sherry, who wants to be adopted by them. Guys, this is Carlos. He’s my partner and a former U.B.C.S. agent, we met in Raccoon City… before it was… blown up.”

Carlos didn’t manage to get a word in before Chris began his mini tirade.

“How can we trust him? How can you trust him? He’s an Umbrella agent, he could be lying about quitting. He could be feeding them intel.”

Jill sighed as if she was expecting that. And she probably was.

“He searched for me for half a day in a zombie-infested city, abandoning his mission, carried me all the way to the hospital, fought his way through the hospital to get a vaccine for me, fought his way back, administered it himself, stayed by my side until assistance arrived, fought off a zombie hoard as I was recovering, helped me melt Nemesis and then told me to open fire at him while he restrained a struggling Nikolai. The only rest he got during that whole ordeal was when he got knock unconscious for a couple of minutes. I think there isn’t a bone in his body that is capable of hurting me."

The girls nodded, that was enough explanation for them. Especially Sherry who had Claire go through a similar experience to cure her. Chris, on the other hand, stared Carlos down for a few beats longer before releasing a breath and reaching a hand out to him and a smiled.

“Nice to meet you Carlos, sounds like you took great care of our Jill.”

But after that initial meeting, he’s become close friends with all of them as they came by often to talk to Jill. In fact, he and Chris had become rather close with how both of them cared about Jill in their own ways. He found it difficult to talk to Leon despite being the same age having led completely different lives.

And three years later Carlos had found something else rather difficult… hiding the ring he had bought from Jill. He couldn’t have her find it, it would ruin everything. There was not much room for romance in their lives with Jill going out on missions to battle against whatever insane creation had been released upon the world. So he refused to let his planned proposal be ruined by doing a bad job at hiding a god damn ring.

He sighed as he gently tossed the velvet box in his hand. Jill wouldn't be leaving for her mission for a couple of days. What to do? What to do? Should he hide it in a draw? No too obvious. In the safe? No, she had the code for that. What about burying it in the vegetable garden?... Yeah, that sounded good. Carlos got up out of his armchair and went to the kitchen, grabbing a freezer bag to put the jewellery box in so it wouldn’t get covered in dirt. Heading out into their sizable garden, Carlos greeted the hens as he grabbed a trowel.

“You’ll keep my secret right chicas? Won’t go digging it up for Jill to see?”

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A week later and Jill was finally home. God she couldn’t wait to hop in the shower and crawl into bed. She had sent Carlos a message the day prior letting him know what time she’d most likely be back by. Opening the front door she was greeted to Carlos standing in the hallway. He was dressed a white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up to just above his elbows with a few top buttons left undone, black slacks and dress shoes.

“Welcome back supercop.”

Jill raised a brow at him, eyeing him up and down appreciatively, “What’s the occasion?”

He took her hand, leading her upstairs to their bedroom but paused before opening the door, “Just want to show you I care.” He opened the door, revealing a stormy grey knee-length chiffon cocktail dress. “Take your time. I’ll be putting the finishing touches on dinner.”

With that, he went back down the stairs leaving Jill alone. To say she was surprised would be an understatement because in their time together Carlos had never really done anything like this. That’s not to say he was never romantic, that couldn’t be farther from the truth, the man was a hopeless romantic. But with threats being around every corner with Jill’s line of work they never really had the luxury of going out on dates. Shaking those thoughts from her head Jill stepped into the room and picked up the dress holding it against her as she turned to the mirror, admiring it. Sequins trailed elegant floral designs across the bodice and halted at the beginning of the skirt, which was light-weight and soft. She smiled. It was perfect for what she had in mind.

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Dinner was wonderful. Carlos had prepared her favourite meal and lit candles. Hell, he even made mini melt in the middle chocolate cakes for dessert. But something seemed a tad off. Carlos was fidgety. Nervous. That didn’t stop her from being surprised about what he did once they finished eating.

“We’ve been together for three years now, having met in a living nightmare. If I had to go through all that again to be with you, I gladly would. Even being shot in the shoulder.” He chuckled. Moving out of his seat, he got down on one knee and pulled out the jewellery box and the diamond ring nestled inside. “What I’m trying to say is Jill Valentine will you continue to let me stay by your side as your husband?”

Jill let out a breathy laugh, getting on to her knees in front of him, pulling out a silver ring from a garter purse, “Only if you promise to marry me.”

He broke out into the biggest grin before pulling her into a kiss.

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Carlos and Jill stood in front of the makeshift altar in their garden. It was a small event with both of them only having a small number of people to invite. Rebecca was Jill’s maid of honour, Chris was best man and Sherry was the flower girl. There were laughs, there were tears but it was short and sweet.

“I now declare you mister and missus…” The officiant looked between the couple.

“Valentine.” Carlos beamed.

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A/N: This is the dress

I love hearing from you guys! Please tell me what parts you liked!

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[pandastern]

Gravity (Bakugou x OC)

Part 1: A Huntress stalks the night

Bakugou x Vigilante!OC

Warnings: angst, explicit language, violence

Word count: 2143

Genre: enemies to lovers ; angst ; romance

When a new student makes an entrance, Bakugou has a real bad feeling. There is something about this girl that just doesnt feel right. From the flaming hair to the calculating glint in her green eyes, everything about her just pisses him off.

Little does he know that his fate is intertwined with the person he despises so much, defining his future path in a way he would have never expected.

“Hostage Situation: six civilians inside, one with the criminal on the roof at gunpoint, all of them women.”

Katsuki looked up into the night sky, eyeing the small figures on the rooftop. The criminal was standing close to the edge, pressing a gun against the temple of the hostage in his arms. It was quite high up, and the building was old, so Katsuki would have to be careful going in. One wrong explosion and the whole thing could come down, burying heroes, villains and civilians all the same. He had to admit, the criminal was smart.

“Ground Zero?”

The voice of the police officer with his tablet at hand snapped him out of his thought.

“I know the goddamn situation,” he growled, and dedicated his attention back to the victim. He’d need backup for this one, despite how much he hated it. Usually he worked alone, his quirk versatile enough to ensure success. But this was different. Green lightning hit the ground next to him and made people around him gasp and jump aside.

“Seems like they were counting on you to show up here, Ka-chan,” Deku said, straightening after his landing and clapping his childhood friend on the back. “Got your call. What’s the plan?”

There had been times when the familiarity Deku treated him with had made him go off in a rage. But now he was older and knew damn well even he needed support at times.

“Seven victims. One piece of shit with a gun holding a hostage on the roof. Rickety building,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. He’d love to just blow this vermin to bits and be done with it. But it wasn’t that kind of day.

“Fuckin’ bastards.”

“Hmm. So, we have to be careful going inside. The building could-”

“I fucking know that. That’s why you’re here, for fuck’s sake,” Katsuki snapped. “You go inside and look after the women. I’ll take care of the vermin on the roof.”

Not being in the mood for quite so many words, he stomped off. Deku knew how to work with him, so there was no need to talk strategy.

Heavy rain drummed on the asphalt, soaking Katsuki to the bone. A shiver ran over his skin as he checked where best to enter and get on top of the building, the big full moon illuminating his way. He’d worked these streets as a hero ten fucking years now. It was becoming increasingly hard to be surprised at the cruelty and oftentimes stupidity of criminals and villains, putting civilians in danger or causing chaos in his city.

Soon, he found the back entrance of the neighbouring building. It was a little shorter than the one he was trying to get on top of, but he figured he could just blast himself up there with a well-planted explosion. Quickly, he strode up the staircase of the abandoned building, taking two or three steps at a time.

He had every reason to hurry. Criminals like this never had good nerves, especially those who held innocent people at gunpoint, and as soon as Deku started doing his thing inside, the man on top would surely be alarmed.

From outside he heard screams and the sound of guns going off. Speak of the devil…

“Shit! Fucking awesome,” he hissed and quickened his step, sprinting up the last flight of stars before throwing himself against the metal door of the roof. 

The moment he stepped outside, raindrops drummed down on him like hail, the wind up here turning the water droplets almost into shards of ice. Not that he was able to feel much cold.

Katsuki let out a curse and rushed to the edge of the building. Down on the ground, he could make out some of his fellow colleagues having it out with a group of villains that had emerged from the shadows. They would be okay, he knew that. His attention returned to the man standing alone in the moonlight.

They weren’t too far apart, so his calculations had been spot on. But he couldn’t just blast up there if he didn’t want to risk the life of the sobbing woman with the gun to her head.

Shit. Great. Because he was so good with negotiating.

“You better let her go, you shitfaced bastard!” he roared up through the heavy rain. “You know damn well I’ll blast you to shit if you hurt her.”

“Fuck you!” the criminal shouted back in a high pitched voice. ”You won’t do shit! Number two hero, my ass. You can’t do nuthin’ ‘cause you can’t have her dead!”

Growling a string of curses Katsuki desperately tried to come up with a way to get up to the building without endangering the victim so he could beat the ever living shit out of that arsehole.

“Ka-chan! What’s the situation?”

The voice coming out of the communication device in his ear made him flinch.

“That fucker has the woman too close to the edge,” said Katsuki. “I’m gonna blast up there and kick him in the face before he can actually shoot. Can you create a distraction inside?”

“Uhh.” The sound of shots being fired “I’ll do my best but im under fire! Give me a minute.”

“We don’t have a fucking minute, Deku!”

This was why he worked alone. Usually. This bullshit was ripping his nerves to shreds. 

“Just do it, Deku! Make yourself fucking useful and stop playing,” Bakugou hissed into the device.

“You fucking heroes think you can do whatever you want. I’ll show you! I’ll take this bitch with me before I die!” came another shriek from the upper roof. This dude really was pushing his luck.

Through the strong rain, Katsuki watched as the burly man dragged the helpless woman closer towards the edge. Was he going to throw her off?

His body moved quickly, getting ready to either blast up there or somehow catch the falling woman.

“You better not fucking move! I’ll rip you to shreds and feed you your own shi-”

Katsuki heard something slice through air and rain like an arrow, followed by a wet thud. The world fell quiet, as if time were standing still.

Katsuki’s blood grew cold. An ice arrow had lodged itself right between the criminal’s eyes. The burly man staggered, one step, then another, dropping the weapon he had been holding. Then he fell, and with him the woman.

“Fuck!”

Katsuki flung himself into the air, the explosion of his quirk giving him the needed momentum. He grabbed the falling woman in midair, wrapping his arms around her before the two of them hit the window of the opposite building. Glass shattered and sliced Katsuki’s exposed skin as he rolled over the floor, trying not to break any of his or the woman’s bones.

“Ka-chan!” Deku’s voice sounded relieved and shocked at the same time. “What happ-”

Katsuki had no time to reply. The assassin was still out there. He knew she was. Why the fuck was she here again? He should have known better. She always got involved in shit like this.

“Take her outside!” he barked, and thrust the woman he’d just saved into his friend’s arms. “It’s her! She shot the bastard.”

Realisation dawned on Deku’s face and he turned pale. Without a word, he picked up the sobbing but apparently unharmed woman and rushed downstairs while Bakugou flung himself out of the window again. It only took a few blasts for him to get to the top of the building.

“Where are you?” he yelled into the dark. It had to be her. He knew it was her. Only one person took out villains with that kind of technique. Arrows of ice - her one signature, because they never left any traces once melted. “Show yourself!”

“No need to yell. I’m right here, Katsuki.”

A chill ran down Katsuki’s spine. He’d recognize that voice anywhere. It had been haunting his dreams for so many years now. The slight drawl to his name, the accent forming around Japanese words.

He turned to face the assassin.

There she was, untamed red hair glowing in the moonlight like a flame, her small frame outlined by the full moon. The Huntress vigilante that stalked the night.

“Artemis,” he said. His voice sounded rough.

Something painful stirred in his chest and he cursed himself. 

She still had the water bow that her quirk had allowed her to form in her hand. Green eyes gleamed at him through the black mask that covered half of her face. There was a softness to them, something he knew she held only for him.

“It’s been a while,” she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Don’t give me that shit,” he hissed, his heart clenching in his chest. How many times had she spoiled his cases this way? Killing without mercy and leaving no traces behind. But he knew her. The way she moved, talked, even her scent was something he could pick out of a thousand people.

She shrugged and the bow in her hand disintegrated.

“You’re welcome, by the way. If I hadn’t shot him, I wonder what would’ve happened next. Would you have blown him off the roof? Flung yourself at him and gotten her shot? Or would you have waited for him to shoot her and then blow him up?” she purred with feigned disinterest. “Either way, there would have been a sacrifice… What great Hero work.”

“Oh, but shooting him in the face and making him drop her is better?” he growled.

“I think I’ve calculated quite well though,” she replied. “I mean, you did catch her, no?”

A deep growl rumbled in Katsuki’s chest.

“Stop playing games, Artemis! This needs to stop. Soon I won’t be able to keep them from putting a fucking bounty on your head! Then every Hero and their grandma will be on your arse.”

“Ah yes, the ever so dangerous hero grandma. How frightful,” she chuckled.

"You think this is a joke? You want to fucking die?”

Artemis’ face fell into a cool mask. “I don’t need your help. Like any of you was ever able to catch me. Don’t waste your time with things that don’t concern you, Ground Zero.”

Bakugou cursed again. How many times had he had this conversation with her? Why wouldn’t she just listen? What was all this for?

“Artemis.” He spoke her name as a plea. Ten years. Ten years of running after her. Trying to understand her. Trying to get her back.

“Ka-chan!” Deku’s voice echoed through the night, followed by green lightning as the current number one hero landed next to him on the roof. Deku had visible scratches on his skin and bruises that were about to form, but Bakugou couldn’t bring himself to take away his gaze from the woman standing in front of him.

“Hello, Izuku. Fancy meeting you here,” Artemis said as if greeting an old friend. “You’ve certainly looked better if I remember right. Have the men inside pushed you a little far? You’re getting soft.”

Deku’s green eyes widened as he met the eyes of the assassin. 

“No, I held back so I wouldn’t injure anyone beyond repair.” Delu spoke calmly, but there was a rare hint of steel in his voice.

Artemis shrugged before taking a step back towards the edge of the roof.

“Dont you dare think about fucking off like this!” Katsuki growled. “You stay right where you are.”

“Or what?” Artemis’ smirk sent a shiver down his spine. She was toying with him.

“Why are you doing this, Artemis?” Deku asked.

“I have my reasons,” Artemis replied with ice in her voice. “No need for you to worry your pretty little head with it.”

She took another step back, then another.

Moving at the same time, the heroes stepped forward, but the huntress held out a hand.

“Ah, I wouldn’t.” She held up a warning finger. “Before you act, I’d like you to remind you that it’s raining. Which means you’re outmatched.”

She was right. She was so right and Katsuki hated it. In an earnest fight, he could have overpowered her, but if she was just trying to make a run for it, her quirk would undoubtedly give her the advantage in this situation. Bakugou knew that. He’d seen it happen so many goddamn times.

“Well then, gentlemen. I bid you farewell,” she said, and pulled up her hood. “Stop searching for me, Katsuki. You won’t like what you find.”

With that, she flung herself backwards off the roof.

“No!” A scream ripped from Katsuki’s lungs as he rushed forward, trying to get a hold of her, but she slipped through his fingers like water and disappeared into the night.

He’d failed again. How many times more?

[meg-noel-art]

003 character - adora

DUDE, dude, yes.

A D O R A

I could talk about her forever lesgo:

1.) How I feel about this character:

I have never found Adora anything less than a fascinating and complex protagonist. She's got all the characteristics of a classic hero archetype: she's brave, kind hearted, strong, selfless.... But she's also unbearably human. She makes a lot of mistakes. She's afraid of her responsibilities and her 'destiny', she's stubborn and sometimes extremely narrow minded (her way or the high way kind of situation), she's insecure and has a guilt complex the size of the planet itself.

And what's great about that is that all of those flaws stem from her background as a child soldier. It's all surprisingly gritty and real for the protagonist of cartoon.

Her misguided motivations always make sense, they align with the character we've come to know and love for all of her complexities. She's a great role model in some ways, and in others, she's an example of behaviors to avoid. MORE CHARACTERS LIKE THIS PLEASE. More heroes with just as many flaws as the rest of us. Adora's easy to relate to in that sense because we all have issues too. And when the protagonist of your show, is as broken as your audience, it makes the entire world of Etheria seem that much more personal.

I love her.

2.) Any/all people I ship romantically with this character:

If you know me at all, you know I ship Adora pretty exclusively with Glimmer. But I also see merits to some of her other ships. I like the fact that Adora unabashedly crushes on giant burly lesbians. Like, amazing 10/10 writing. Same hat.

Anyway, I'm going to use this opportunity to go off on Glimmadora:

I love this ship. And sure, for all the normal reasons, it's cute, it's wholesome, it's soft. But I like it for a lot more than that. I sincerely think it's an excellent dynamic. The two start out as staunch enemies. But not personal ones. They've never wronged one another. They've never even met. They were simply born and bred to hate/fight one another. Glimmer is a princess, the very thing Adora has been trained from childhood to destroy. And Adora is a key cog in the Horde machine that took her father away from her, strained her relationship with her mother, and essentialy structured her ENTIRE life. She was born into a war, and has never known anything else. Neither has Adora.

And yet, within hours of meeting each other, when they are at first hostile, they are then forced to work together and quickly come to realize that there entire lives have been built on propoganda, essentially. Yes the Horde is evil. But this is just a girl who was drafted into an army, who has never seen the outside world until today, who doesn't know what her own birthday means. And this other girl is a Princess, sure... But she's not a monster. She's not burning villages or murdering Horde soldiers? Upon putting aside their differences, Glimmer and Adora accept one another for who they are as individuals and that only grows throughout the seasons. There's never a moment where Glimmer ever acts as anything but supportive towards Adora and her various insecurities for the first 3 seasons. And likewise, Adora depends on Glimmer's support and comfort and it bolsters her as both a person and in her role as She Ra.

More than that, they are both the person the other needs, in a sense. Adora needs a person who isn't afraid to challenge her own stubbornness and her sometimes single mindedness. She needs someone who gently supports her through the rough times, but who also pushes her to be better when she feels hopeless. Glimmer does all this for her and more, just by being herself. It's a wholesome, fluffy ship, sure. But it also makes sense and portrays what a sincerely healthy relationship looks like in media and that's SO GOOD. They have their drama, and their arguments, anyone in any kind of relationship does. But it all stems from a desire to protect and care for the other and I'm going on for far too long, moving on--

3.) My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character:

Scorpia!!! She and Adora are at odds from the get go because of their contrasting relationships with Catra. But they're really fairly similar and I think eventually they'll be good friends. They're both very kind hearted and brave and forgiving. I can imagine Adora really giving up on herself and Scorpia being there to tell her how great and strong she is like she always did for Catra. They'd also have 'strength-offs' or sparring sessions and it'd be super cute. Be friends pls ;-; season 5 pls...

4.) Unpopular opinion about this character:

Um.... I mean it's ship related, but I think Catradora is detrimental to Adora's character and development as a whole? It detracts from all of her growth as a character thus far as well as her escape from an abusive home environment. But that's a whole other post I could make, so I'll leave it there.

5.) One thing I wish would happen to this character in canon?

I think we all want this, but I want Adora to S N A P. I want her to break emotionally and let all that grief and rage and guilt fuel her for a bit. We've seen glimpes of it. But I want her to get a moment to FEEL everything she obviously stuffs down for the sake of being She Ra, everyone's hero and hope. I want her to just be Adora and to break down to her lowest point so that she can finally start to heal. I think season 5 has set it up perfectly and now it just needs to knock the pins down. And I can't wait to watch 👀

6.) Favorite friendship for this character?

BOW! Bow is a great friend in general, but he is EXCEPTIONALLY patient with Adora and really listens to her. I STILL remember the moment in Mystacor during season 1 when he listens when Adora says she used to punch things in the Horde instead of relaxing. When the hot springs don't work, his next suggestion is that they find her something to hit! He is a good boy ;-; and a gentle friend and I wish season 4 had given them more conversations. They had plenty of time together but they didn't actually interact or talk much, which is weird. Bow is the guy I can see Adora goes to when she has questions that embarass her about Etheria, or relationships, or big scary topics. Because he'd approach them calmly and wouldn't talk down to her.

I also really wish Adora and Mermista interacted more because their opposing attitudes contrast so hysterically.

7.) My crossover ship:

HMmMMmm interesting..... I'd probably go with Kara Danvers!! Supergirl. Both are essentially aliens to their planet, adopted by families that teach them how to BE a hero in both their personal and "professional" lives. They are both lovably dumb with hearts of gold that just want to do the right thing but fear they can't. They'd have a lot in common. Also both strong and blonde and blue eyed and I -- 👀👀

That's it!!! Thank you for letting me scream about Adora ❤❤🥺

[cursewoodrecap]

Session 16: No Not Like That

Aw, been a while since I wrote one of these! Anyway: we run into some dickheads and try to solve things the not-murder way for once. 

On the road outside Bad Herzfeld, the trolls slowly begin to peel off and go their separate ways. Dr. Kjeller and his new bodyguard Kjell are the last to leave the main road, stopping to say goodbye to the small contingent of humanoids.

“Welp, dis trolls’ moot has certainly been an experience,” Dr. Kjeller sagely intones. “I would not say a success. The two of us are going to tour around and tell all the trolls we can find to stay away. I believe a trolls’ moot is not uncalled for, but we must look for a different place. Ideally one not full of weird fungus people. And, please, if there is anything I can do to help you….well, I guess you’d have to find me first.” He tips his travelin’ hat and departs. Gral tips his mask in return. He’s getting the hang of these Valdian customs!

It seems like the Orcish outriders have already left to report back to Duke Shieldeater, so it’s just us, the Fairgolds, and the beleaguered innkeeper and his daughter. What do we do with the civilians? I mean, we’re headed to Mornheim, and even if we’re gonna fix the water it seems kinda rude to drop someone off in Zombie Town. Flynn offers to introduce Aaron to his innkeeper uncle back in Holzog, to see if he can get a job there.

Flynn and Fiona are gonna stick with us to Mornheim. “Look, you had all the fun up there in Bad Herzfeld; I’m not gonna let the four of you get all the glory. You’re gonna do a big ritual and save the whole town? I gotta see this.”

We spend a couple uneventful days hiking back to Three Oaks Junction, where we’ll split up with Aaron and Rebecca. The DM tries to waylay us with a destroyed bridge over a fast-moving river, but we have a Ring of Jumping and a magical alligator. We’re fine. We roll some bad perception checks on watch and our rations get stolen by Curse Raccoons.

ANYWAY. As we get back onto the major roads, Gral is the first to notice something odd: there’s no carts coming from the direction of Three Oaks. Sure, it’s late evening, but last time we were here there was still a heavy buzz of activity through the busy trade stop. We approach extra-cautiously, making sure the civilians are in the protected center of the group.

The town comes into view, and it’s immediately obvious something has changed. A hasty palisade wall has been constructed around the town, and a banner has been hung over the gate, white with a red insignia of a bloody chain.

Shoshana groans. “AAUUUUGH, are you fuckin’ kidding me?!”

“Um, did the town always look like that?” Rebecca asks hesitantly.

Valeria shakes her head. “Not last week, it didn’t!”

Gral pulls the duo aside and gives them the Cliffs Notes: “We’re about to run into the Penitents. Talk about Rack as much as you can and hide behind Valeria. I hate dealing with these folks, but it looks like they put this place on lockdown, and we gotta make sure y’all are safe.”

Outside the gate, there’s a uniformed Penitent Knight keeping watch over a group of citizens who are digging graves. The gate itself seems to be manned by standard town militiamen, being supervised by another Penitent. Valeria casts a quick eye over the scene with Detect Magic, but finds nothing amiss. As she approaches (we’re wisely letting the paladin lead), a guardsman shouts “Halt!”

She stops at a polite distance. “Kyr Valeria Argent, at your service,” she announces formally. “What’s going on here?”

“By order of the town council, all who seek admittance to the town must submit to examination for heretical artifacts or influences,” the guardsman recites, scriptedly. The Penitent behind him nods in approval.

She meets his eye with an intimidating draconic stare. “We have artifacts we need to bring to the Cursebreaker Knights. Perhaps we can check them at the door and pick them up later?”

“Uhhh,” the guy says, his script clearly not having prepared him for that. “…maybe you should talk to the Inquisitor. He’s gonna want to speak to you about these ‘artifacts.’”

He has us wait a minute, and we take a quick mental inventory. We’ve got an evil skeleton tapestry, spooky lutestrings, the Eyegis, and one (1) entire Shoshana.

A group of six Penitents arrive and escort us stiffly into the town. The place is crowded as all get out; it looks like a lot of travelers have been stuck here way longer than they anticipated. There’s only two properly empty spaces: one’s some sort of enormous construction site, and the other is the area where the circus tent was; it seems nobody’s been brave enough to move into the spot or even clean up the ashy, crumbling remains.

There’s a rather unusual cart sitting among the crowded caravan parking, immediately familiar from the two reptilian beasts of burden hitched next to it. There’s a bit of a staredown happening; two Penitents are remaining remarkably steadfast in the face of two enormous, glowering tattooed figures. We can’t pop over to say hi; our escort is hustling us along and we’re not sure that knowing us would do Lucinius any favors.

Valeria’s about vibrating out of her skin, indignant at all these unfairly-detained innocents, and looks about a second away from drawing her sword and opening up a can o’ Righteousness. But no time for that; we’re being ushered inside the sheriff’s office.

The small-town hoosegow is cramped; there’s been makeshift cages built all along one wall, seemingly as some kind of holding cells, all of them full. Shoshana appraises the prisoners out of the corner of her eye. They all seem to have slight Curse mutations, but so vaguely that it could just be garden-variety weirdness. Sure, that guy could be a werewolf, but he might just be a real hairy dude. That lady looks sallow and corpselike, but not more so than any garden-variety resident of Mornheim.

Shoshana, her clawed hands shoved deep in her pockets, is strung tense as a lutestring. Valeria’s still managing to feign chilly politeness, but both of them are half a breath away from fight or flight.

Gral’s not looking at the prisoners. He’s too busy looking at the guard. There’s two burly Penitents at the door, which is unsurprising, but Gral could swear he’s seen the one on the left before.

He’s pretty sure we killed that guy back at the roadhouse.

The guard doesn’t seem to recognize us at all, but he’s pretty badly scarred, exactly in the way someone might be if they took a hit from a drow soldier’s greatsword.

We’re pulled out of our wary observations by a familiar, unwelcome voice. “Ah. Kyr Argent, wasn’t it?”

“It is,” Valeria allows frostily, as the Inquisitor glides into the room.

“It is good to see you again – in a manner of speaking,” he says, chuckling at his own joke as he gestures to his blindfolded eyes. “Yes, from the descriptions of the heroes who defeated the heretical circus, I suspected I might have the pleasure of working with you once again. What brings you to Three Oaks Junction?”

“Oh, we’re just passing through. Y’know, like travelers do,” she answers, her polite smile showing just a little too much fang.

“Yes, of course. As you can see, this town has become very useful in our war against the Curse.”

“Is it, now.”

“After the incident with the circus, the town council was afraid. Many of them had attended the performance, after all. They were worried that there might be some…aftereffects. Fortunately, my people were nearby, and they summoned me immediately to examine the town for signs of the Curse’s corruption. As we were here, it became clear what an asset this town is – just as the heretics used it to corrupt many at once, we can use it to root out those heretics who hide among us.

“On our first day here, we found one who bore the mark of the curse. I examined him myself. Foul lycanthropy. He was, of course, executed. Now, none pass through this place without our inspection, and we have found many others. You may have seen some of them outside, awaiting a more thorough examination. My work has kept me too busy to give each case the attention it truly deserves.

“The town council has been very accommodating. I have written to my fellows, and we are working on converting and expanding their humble chapel into a true bastion of Rack’s justice, where the divine light of the gods may lay bare the evil that hides among us, that walks the roads of this land spreading its poison.”

Gral mutters, aside, “Don’t think anyone’s walkin’ these roads now…”

The Inquisitor claps his hands briskly. “Now. I understand you are in possession of some artifacts, objects that you are transporting on behalf of the Cursebreaker Knights. I fear for our brothers amongst the Cursebreakers; their mission is noble but they meddle with powers they do not understand. There are things in this wood it is better not to trifle with. Bring the items to me, and I will inspect them. Those I deem acceptable may remain in your protection, but anything too dangerous must be destroyed. Should the Cursebreakers fall to corruption, we would lose some of our greatest assets in this war. Help me protect the Cursebreakers, Kyr Argent. Show me what you are transporting for them.”

Valeria nearly decks him then and there, but a quiet brush of shoulders reminds her of the trembling sorceress behind her. Not here, not now, not when we’re surrounded. If they get an excuse to get aggressive, Shoshana’s sunk.

We busy ourselves with pulling out Weird Yet Harmless artifacts. What kind of random space trinkets did we find, again? Clem shows them the Eldritch Cookbook, and we take a gamble by letting them look at the Pale King’s tapestry, which is a bit large and hard to hide.

“Very well. I will examine these,” the Inquisitor says smoothly, his tone giving no insight into whether he knows we have far more blasphemous things to hide. “Gunter! Find them lodging within the town. Once I have examined these items for corruption, I must confirm that none of you have been corrupted by their presence.”

Valeria smiles tightly. “I’m certain they are corrupted, but not corrupting.”

“With all due respect, Kyr, I have made a study of corruption. Now, because of your…esteemed position,” he says, gesturing toward her rose-emblazoned armor, “you are no doubt on a mission of some considerable importance. I will endeavor to expedite your case as much as I can.”

“Oh, there’s no need to give us special treatment. All the travelers here need to get through,” she responds pointedly.

The Inquisitor’s serene, condescending expression does not change. “You may go,” he dismisses. “I am very busy. As I’m sure you know, the work of good in times of evil is ceaseless.”

Valeria bows to the exact millimeter that politeness requires, and no further. He’s blind, and doesn’t notice.

As we’re ushered back out, Shoshana tries to catch the eye of one of the caged prisoners. They mostly just look scared, not evil, and there’s no sign they recognize she’s also corrupted.

Clem, meanwhile, takes the opportunity to scrutinize the weirdly familiar guy at the door. He looks perfectly healthy, except for all the scars. She elbows Valeria, who confirms with her Divine Sense that this is just a normal dude, not an undead. He’s either one hundred percent living, or whatever nonsense that brought him back from murder is specifically cloaked in a way that would fool a paladin’s senses.

Our escort shows us to a place to set up camp. There are several inns in town, but all of them are fairly occupied at moment. We’re pretty sure that a Knight of the Rose, hero who slew the dread circus, could pre-empt a less fancy guest, but we’re all chill with camping as long as we get to hit up a food truck or something.

We meet back up with our friends. The Fairgolds, who are pretty familiar with Three Oaks, are pretty shaken by the drastic changes. Aaron and Rebecca, meanwhile, are shocked. “Is this what the rest of the woods is like?!” Aaron asks. “I knew things were bad out here, but I assumed once we got out of Bad Herzfeld…”

“Different places have different issues,” Gral explains kindly. “Some are the kind you’re already familiar with. And apparently some places are afflicted with Penitent Knights.”

“Even before that, there was an undead curse which afflicted this place-“

“-Which we DEALT WITH just fine-“ Valeria interjects grumpily.

“-and Holzog’s safe now, but it had its own weird issues we had to deal with too. The Curse is everywhere; you can’t really get around it without clear-cutting the forest,” Shoshana admits.

We get the lay of the land. Commerce has slowed, but not stopped. The Penitents are searching everyone going through here. If they find nothing, they let you go. Most of the crowd is just people waiting for their turn to get checked. We see a few times, though - if something about you pings them as weird, they take you away.

Basically, we are in line at the TSA.

Guess we’ll take a walk.

We skirt warily around a Penitent street preacher who’s shouting something about justice, and casting out evil, and how Rack appreciates your sacrifice in these trying times.

“Sacrifice is a WILLING thing,” grumbles Valeria.

We walk around and do some casual recon. Much of the town is still a perpetual campsite/bazaar, but near the more permanent municipal buildings, several work crews are busy with construction, which the locals tell us is supposed to be some kind of temple. Quite a few rough tents with Penitent insignias are pitched by that area. The town militia is out in force, and it’s much bigger than when we passed through last week. Maybe half of the people running around on patrol are actually trained fighters; most of the new recruits barely even look like weekend warriors. Every patrol, without exception, is being supervised by at least one Penitent.

People are scared, mostly. Nobody around seems happy with the Penitents, but a lot of the people around have reluctantly agreed that Something Had To Be Done about threats like the circus, and there weren’t any other available options. No one’s enthusiastic they’re there, but neither are they vocally critical. Then again, we worry, maybe anyone who’s been speaking out or causing trouble has, uh, disappeared.

We make our way back to our own wagon. If we’re gonna go Get In Trouble, like adventurers do, it’s probably time to part ways with our civilian friends. We pool 40 gold for Aaron and Rebecca (Clem contributing nothing because giving money is WAY too personal; Shoshana giving extra because she’s projecting really hard onto them) and Aaron’s eyes go wide. Oh, right, most people don’t make adventurer amounts of cash? It’ll be enough to get them safely set up in Holzog, with money to spare. They leave to set up their own travel plans, stuttering awkward thanks.

Flynn, meanwhile, grins. “Don’t think you’re getting rid of us that easily. You guys are terrible liars, I know you’re plotting something.”

We admit we don’t actually have a plan, but Valeria is adamant that This Nonsense Cannot Stand.

Let’s go recruit some allies, maybe? Gral wanders within Message range of Lucinius’ wagon, which is very clearly cordoned off and under guard. Bjorn and Ingborg are still there, but there’s no sign of the dragonborn.

“Heyy it’s us, what’s going on? Over.”

“Hello. We cannot leave. The Professor was taken. They wished to search the cart. He explained what he has and what he has found, that he is carrying important research. He would not allow them to confiscate his research, and he went to speak to the one in charge. That was three days ago; we have not seen him since. It is our duty to protect the man, but we have not seen a way to fulfil that duty without getting ourselves killed.”

We promise to keep them posted, and ask them to sit tight so when we make our move, it’ll be coordinated.

Next, Gral and Shoshana go down to the local pub to see if we can find anyone that’s particularly malcontented with the Penitents. We assume religious zealots are not much for hanging around bars. They don’t seem to be much into worldly pleasures, coughzombiecough.

Nobody’s talking too much shit until they get a couple of drinks in them but we do find some people griping, mostly merchants passing through. Pierre the Demish furrier, who we met back at the Holzog roadhouse, has turned up again; apparently the Penitents seized a good deal of his stock. And he’s been reduced to drinking BEER. He has OPINIONS about that. (It does not stop him drinking lots of it; he has to drown his sorrows at being denied worthy alcohol.)

Gral tries to butter him up a bit by letting him ramble about Demish wine. “When you drink a bottle of Demish wine, you taste centuries of tradition in that vineyard! You taste the earth itself, the hands of the farmers. It is sweet and it stings and it is good. What is this? Barley? Hops? HOPS? Hop is a verb, hop is not an object. Hop is for bunnies. The bunnies may eat the hops, and then I will cook the bunnies,” he mumbles into his unsatisfactory beer.

Gral fumbles for sommelier expertise. “I come from a smaller river village; wine tastes different farm to farm. It’s not just about the plants, but the social experience.”

“It is the same for us, yes? A region’s wine is its SPIRIT. You go to the border of the goblin swamps, and the wine there tastes like fire and blood, like the steel of the chevaliers that defend it.”  Go to Petit le Fere, it tastes like long summer nights. Go to Marsène, the wine tastes like – have you ever been in love, Monsieur Orc?”

“Uh, n-no?”

It tastes like the first time you and your lover locked eyes and laughed together. That was my favorite wine. This? This tastes like mud with pretensions of alcohol.”

“It’s not the steel of the chevaliers, but it’s the taste of hardworking people. And if the penitents have their way, there won’t be a town here anymore.”

Gral butters the guy up enough to find out a few basic details: there’s about two dozen proper knights, but they’ve got local militia and volunteers to swell their numbers. A lot of people are very keen to get on good terms with the new bosses, whether it’s because they’re afraid of the Penitents or afraid of the things out in the woods that the Penitents have promised to fight.

“I was here to get a blood-red deer pelt with wolf’s teeth,” the trader complains. “I know a chevalier who would pay dearly to have it worked into his armor. And now it has been taken away!  For my ‘protection,’ apparently. I had to surrender the rest of my stock to avoid being thrown in those cages.”

Everybody in the tavern seems to be on good behavior – sure, there’s folks displeased with the Penitents, but nobody’s gonna do anything about it; if you look like you might be up to something, you’re gonna get dragged off. And Pierre’s been keeping a low profile ever since he saw that blue dragonborn get dragged down into the basement of the sheriff’s office.

Shoshana, meanwhile, slides over to a tough-looking lady at the end of the bar in militia-style leather armor. “Hey, you look like you’d know the system here. We just got in to town; how long before they search our cart and let us go?”

“A couple days; we got a huge backlog,” the woman, who’s introduced herself as Vanessa, tells her. “Depends on how much they suspect you. Some people, they like to leave ‘em here for a while, to watch ‘em for anything suspicious.”

“You say that like you’re not involved? You’re dressed like you’re with the militia.”

“Technically I am. Second-in-command, or I was, before all this. Not sure who is now. Hell, I was the one making noise at Sheriff Wilbur about getting more muscle after that circus thing. If you folks hadn’t shown up, I dunno what would have happened.”

“So you all get bossed around by the Penitents now?”

“Look, half the kids in the militia right now barely know which end of a spear is up. The Penitents agreed to supplement what we had.”

“…yyyyyeah, it kinda feels like they’re calling the shots, though?”

She sighs. “Yeah. Look, I had the idea that we needed to beef up, bring in experienced vets. I was hoping to get mercs or something, and then they showed up and filled the role. They made some kinda deal with the town council, y’know, they’d provide extra security in exchange for being given jurisdiction over anybody found to be corrupt. Sounded fine to us at the time. See, we didn’t make the connection that if they were with the militia, they’d be the ones making the call who all’s corrupt or not.”

“How many people have been deemed, uh, ‘corrupt’?” Shoshana asks.

“More than I’d like, but not enough to get everyone all up in arms. Everybody’s pretty sure that most people will be fine. Hell, most people probably will be. When someone goes to trial, they take ‘em to the sheriff’s office. That Inquisitor guy looks at ya, says a few magic words, and most of ‘em he lets go. A few get taken to the cages for a further exam. I dunno what that means – don’t know anybody who’s been let go after that. A couple of times he just made a motion and bam, those knights beat the poor bastard to death on the spot and burned all their belongings.”

Vanessa doesn’t look too thrilled about that, so Shoshana decides it’s time to confide a little. “Even with the entire town vouching for me that I helped with the Circus, I’m worried I’m a target.”

“Well, I don’t mean to say anything, but I saw y’all leaving the sheriff’s office. You’re gonna get called in; you’re exactly the type. Even before all those stories about burning down circus tent with your magic powers.” She stares into her beer. “They’ve gotta be crazy. There’s plenty of crazy in the forest for them to deal with, why the hell are they in my town?!”

The problem is, the Town Council, which is what passes for a governing body in Three Oaks, have signed off on the whole deal. “The council’s just three people – the sheriff, Burgermeister Menner, and Remick – he’s the guy who keeps the shrine up and running. They all agreed to have the Penitents come in, but we haven’t seen much of any of them except the Sheriff since.”

Shoshana files that info away for later. “You said the sheriff’s still out and about?”

“He’s – look. Wilbur’s never been the most enthusiastic about bein’ sheriff. We served together, way back, in the house guard of the von Kempt family. Even back then he got the job because he’d been a sergeant. The guy was always happiest taking orders, rather than giving them. And hell, most of the sheriff job was just keeping things running today same as yesterday. But he got pretty spooked by the circus thing. That kinda shit’s scarier than your ordinary pack of wolves or bandits. I tried to get him to do something, but he seems comfortable with penitents calling the shots. He trusts they’re the experts and know what’s best here.”

The Burgermeister’s been pretty busy with this whole thing, apparently, and Remick hasn’t really left his little shrine. The Penitents don’t use that one – they’re more into big prayer ceremonies and dramatically flogging themselves in the street, and they’re starting construction on their own grand temple. Something about “showing faith by constructing a worthy house of worship,” and all that.

Vanessa’s grumbling about the heavy restrictions on the gates into town and the perimeter patrols, so Shoshana strategizes. “Have you had problems with people hopping the fence?”

“I mean, normally, no? Town regulations say go through the gates, but we’ve always had teenagers hopping the wall, or people with business outside who don’t feel like walking all the way to gate – never a real problem, until this whole nonsense. I’m not on patrol anymore, but as far as I can tell people are too scared to try in case they get caught. Probably a good way to get declared a potential heretic.”

Apparently the wall isn’t super well maintained; there’s plenty of places a few charming scamps could get in or out if they’re willing to scramble a little. It’s a trade stop, not a fortress.

We don’t get too much more info around town, and decide to investigate the town council in the morning. We take watch overnight, but nothing happens.

In the morning, we split up to cover more ground; Clem and Gral head to the Burgermeister’s, while Valeria and Shoshana try to hit up the local chief cleric.

Clem and Gral arrive at the biggest house in town. There’s a Penitent standing guard outside the door. They skulk around nonchalantly to the back to properly recon. There’s no Penitents watching the back, so Gral slinks up to a window to peer inside. It’s pretty normal; there’s a woman baking bread. Clem points out that we’ll definitely look like the bad guys if we break into an occupied home, so…the polite approach it is.

“The Burgermeister is not feeling well and cannot see visitors,” the knight at the gate intones.

“We’re here on urgent business,” Gral improvises. “We are the adventurers who defeated the circus; we wish to talk to him about the restoration efforts.” He rolls a properly bardic persuasion check, but it’s still like talking to a brick wall.

However, the door opens behind the stoic guard. “Who is it?” An elegant middle-aged woman peers out at us. “Wait, don’t I recognize you?”

“Yes, we assisted in deposing the circus!” Gral replies warmly. “Gral Omokk’du; I serve Duke Shieldeater.”

“Clementine Haxan,” Clem offers laconically.

“Ah, yes. Please do come in. You left town so quickly, my husband and I weren’t able to properly thank you!”

“We had urgent business elsewhere,” Gral admits, the picture of good manners. “I suppose that’s how life is.”

They make pleasantries with the woman, Meredith, who falls easily into the role of gracious host.

“We had concerns to bring up with the Burgermeister, but what’s this I hear about him being unwell?”

“Yes, he’s been bedridden the last week. A bit of the flu; he’s getting to that age. Mostly it’s just the fatigue, really.”

Clem tuts. “I’m a bit of a medic myself. The flu can be very serious when someone is in advanced years. I could potentially give a clearer diagnosis, maybe alleviate some of his pain?”

Meredith visibly brightens. “I was thinking about sending for a doctor anyway; please come on up, I’ll see if he’s ready to take visitors.”

The Burgermeister has CORONAVIRUS and we’re in QUARANTINE.

She leads them upstairs. “Dear? Aldrich? Remember those people who helped with the circus? One’s a doctor!” She listens for a moment. “You’re tired? You’ve been tired for a week. No, that’s not normal. It’s normal to get a doctor!” She turns back to the two visitors. “He’s being silly, come on up.”

“I don’t need a doctor, just rest!” we hear a harrumphing voice complain.

He is lying in bed in his pajamas. Ah, this is the burger kingdom! No, it’s my burger meistdom

“Hello sir, I’m Clementine Haxan. This is my nurse, Gral Omokk’du.”

“An orcish nurse?” the Burgermeister

“I’m not as experienced as Miss Haxan, but I served as a medic during the Ascension War,” Gral seamlessly bullshits.

“Look I’ve just picked up a bit of a bug and I need rest;” he grumps. “It’ll go away after a bit and I’ll resume my duties.”

“That may very well be true, but gods forbid it’s serious,” Clem says in her best Bedside Manner Voice. “It’ll be good to have it looked it.”

“Ugh, poke and prod me, do what you have to,” he reluctantly concedes.

Clem makes a medicine check with Dr. Wendell’s assistance. The man’s not entirely healthy - his cholesterol is a bit high maybe - but he’s hardly an invalid. He genuinely seems to have some kind of cold or flu, but it’s very mild at this point. There’s no way he should still be bedbound. Maybe it’s just Clem’s standards as an army doctor, but if a soldier came up to her with these symptoms asking to be let off duty the prescription would be “stop wasting my time and go dig latrines.”

Gral insights the guy. He’s not lying; he honestly believes he needs rest. But the way he keeps repeating the word “rest” feels a bit weird. The vibe isn’t “this person feels sick and fatigued,” it’s “this person has an insistent conviction that He Needs Rest.”

“Rest” isn’t a Prisoner buzzword, but Gral’s seen bards cast Suggestion before, and that seems to line up a little too well. Unfortunately, he can’t just Dispel Magic the darn thing; it’s too artful and subtle for that.

Gral decides to fish for a bit more info. “Before we leave you to your rest, how long have you had this flu?”

“About a week? The Inquisitor comes by every morning to update me on the town’s situation. Though I must rest and cannot attend to my duties, a town’s Burgermeister still must keep up with the times!”

“When did you first come into contact with him alone?”

“Oh, I insisted on a meeting when he first came into town a week ago.”

Interesting. The Burgermeister falls ill just in time so that the only information he gets about the town comes from the Inquisitor himself.

Wife doesn’t go out much, armed guard outside

Did he update you on the cage and the executions?

Have been capturing some neer do wells that seek to do harm to town, held for further questioning, some eliminated to protect town like common bandits or beasts.

Saw people in cages! How would you describe them, Clem.

Clem: didn’t strike me as especially dangerous folk

“Well, neither did that ringleader! He only seemed as eccentric as any other traveling performer!”

“Sure,” Gral argues, “but that’s when he had time to prepare his lies and his magic. These scared people in cages wouldn’t be able to hide if they tried. Honestly, the worst I saw was an excessive amount of body hair.”

“Fine, fine, I will inspect these prisoners personally as soon as I feel better, which should be any day now!”

“With all due respect, you fell ill right after this Inquisitor started talking to you. I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Miss Haxan says you’re fine-“

“No I’m not! I need rest!” the Burgermeister interjects heatedly.

“We saved the town, and we’ve had trouble with Penitents before. I believe he has a spell on you. Please, let me try to remove it.”

“I’ve no time for your insane ravings, orc. The Inquisitor is a man of faith! Now leave me to my rest. Dr. Haxan, I appreciate your diagnosis, but I tire easily these days. Have my wife show you out.”

Gral knows the effect of Suggestion is only about 8 hours, but it’s subtle mental manipulation; it lasts. If the Inquisitor is coming by every morning, that’s the perfect opportunity to refresh the charm.

The two of them head out, Clem politely prescribing a short calisthenic routine for the man and, oh, he’s on the mend but just in caaaase he’s contagious the Inquisitor probably shouldn’t visit for a few days?

His wife agrees that sounds reasonable, but it probably won’t stop the guy. They say their gracious goodbyes.

Meanwhile, Shoshana and Valeria are headin’ to church. It’s a tiny thing; there are naves for the three gods we expect, but it doesn’t have the traditional empty throne of Oberok and we’d be surprised if it had a proper hidden shrine for the trickster god Guile. There’s a few people around, and luckily no Penitents posted outside.

Valeria, of course, stops at the Rack shrine for a short prayer, still getting used to how odd it is to see him depicted as human instead of dragonborn. We notice a few little notes – the Lethe shrine’s sponsored by the local blacksmith. You too can have a sword or hammer just like these, in our showroom down the lane!

A few folks are doing their daily prayers and making offerings. They’re all locals and travelers; there’s not a single Penitent in sight, which is pretty odd. There’s no services right now, so we head over to the old man who’s cleaning up candle drippings under one of the offerings. Valeria introduces herself, at your service as per usual.

“Ah, Kyr Argent! I remember you, from that blond man’s story about the circus! Keeper Remick, at your service. How may I aid you?”

Valeria asks him how, as a keeper of the faith, he feels about the Penitents.

“Well, in these times, faith is very important. And they certainly have plenty of that. And that’s a good thing, isn’t it? As a paladin, I’m sure you agree.”

“Faith is one thing, but I can’t say I’m pleased with what they’ve misguidedly done here,” Valeria sniffs.

“As I see it, they’re keeping the town safe. The Inquisitor explained it to me. It’s the will of the gods! Desperate times call for desperate measures, and, well, times are pretty desperate when you can’t even trust a circus! With your mind, that is. With your wallet, Guile walks with them, doesn’t he? Anyhow. These Penitent fellows, they seem extreme, but is there any other option?”

“There must be,” Valeria declares. “They’re detaining people at a crossroads, that’s the work of oppression.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far – see, the Inquisitor explained it to me. He is an experienced scholar of the faith, with a keen – not eye, I guess. A keen sense for the corruption that lurks in the hearts of men. I am, to be honest, just a glorified janitor!”

“I’m certain you’re more than that,” Valeria objects.

“Oh, there’s no need for that. It’s a role I’ve found fulfilling, keeping this place and these people.”

“Well, it seems like they’re brushing past this place in search of something new.”

“Yes, heh. I believe the intent is to make this town a bastion of faith. I’m sure that my little spot here will still remain in use, but more glorification to the gods is good, right?”

We botch an insight check and don’t get a real good sense of him. There isn’t the sense that he’s lying about anything – our impression is he believes it’s not his place to stand in the Penitents’ way; they must know better than him. He’s an old man who’s done a noble job, but he doesn’t think he’s cut out for determining who is or isn’t a danger to the town.

We try another tack: “I understand you’re on the town council?”

“I am. Don’t know why, really. We used to have a proper cleric, decades ago. When he died, I was closest thing to a replacement we had! As the keeper of town’s faith, I hold one of the three seats. Burgermeister Menner does most of running the town, but for the big things he calls in myself and the sheriff and we all take a vote.”

“Then you must have been a big part of bringing the Penitents in?”

“Well, Sheriff Wilbur’s the one who brought their offer to us. I did vote in favor, yes. The Inquisitor showed up personally with his people and described the whole arrangement he had in mind. The Penitents would reinforce and train our militia, and those guilty of corruption would be remanded into their custody for justice. It all seemed very reasonable; sheriff Wilbur does his best but clearly he and his deputies aren’t enough on their own, not against this sort of curse. Burgermeister Menner fell ill shortly afterwards, and I’ve been very busy here doing what I can to keep up folks’ faith.”

Shoshana butts in. “Have you actually been out to see the Penitents work?”

“Yes, once. It disturbed me, but I understand it couldn’t be avoided. The Inquisitor suggested it might be best to avoid seeing such things that upset me so.”

“But if it upsets you – wouldn’t you be the one with authority to change things?!” Valeria demands, failing a persuasion check.

“Oh, voting on anything like that has to wait until the Burgermeister feels better.”

“Can’t council members do anything on their own?”

“Like I said, we’d have to convene to vote…”

“Sure, for the big things,” Shoshana argues, “But the sheriff and Burgermeister have their own duties, don’t you have your own authority as well?”

“I - I suppose I could call clerics from other towns to take a look?”

Valeria puts a gauntleted hand on his shoulder and sparkles at him with all her charismatic piety. “You’re not just the keeper of the shrine, you’re the keeper of this town’s faith. I know you can make a difference.”

The dice land in her favor. “Yes!” the old man declares. “I will-I will do something. What is it I should do? I’m new to this. I’ve held this seat for 20 years but, well, doing something is new. Mostly council meetings are that the Burgermeister says I’d like to increase the tolls, I say the gods probably won’t argue, the sheriff says it won’t cause a riot, and then he does it. I am not suited for a crisis.”

“Well, what kinds of things do you normally do?”

“Er, sometimes I have to sit in on a trial and make sure the prisoner has an advocate?”

OH YOU’RE A PRISONER ADVOCATE, HUH. WELL BOY DO WE HAVE SOME PRISONERS FOR YOU.

“Why, don’t the Penitents do that as clerics of Rack?”

We politely do not laugh in his face. No, no they do not.

“Oh, then I must go at once!”

We’re gonna reconvene with the rest of the party, and then will see the gods’ justice done! After lunch!

The four of us, plus the Fairgolds, meet up. Flynn reports that there have been no changes; the Penitents let all carts through but seized some items, mostly books. We swap info about the Burgermeister and Keeper Remick. The town leadership is hardly good in a crisis, but the Penitents have definitely been separating and keeping them down on purpose.

The first step is to bring in Keeper Remick as our prisoner advocate for those folks being held in the basement. The old man puffs himself up with as much importance as he can, aided by all of us backing him up looking tough. “AHEM,” he announces to the nonplussed Penitent guard, “as a member the of town council and keeper of town’s faith, let me speak with your prisoners!”

Silence.

“Can I speak to your manager? I mean leader!”

The Penitent shakes his head.

“Now listen here young man, what seat do you hold on the town council?!”

The Penitent finally speaks. “I have been instructed to-“

“To work WITH the town council,” Remick retorts, showing a surprising amount of backbone. “No matter how much experience you all may have, it is my solemn duty to speak with the town’s prisoners! Allow ,e to do my duty or I will be forced to write a sternly worded letter! APOLOGIZING FOR FORCING OUR WAY PAST YOU!”

The Inquisitor glides up behind his guard, listening to Remick’s speech. “Very well,” he intones in his eerily calm voice, “You may…enter.”

We are brought down to basement. It’s a set of maybe 6 cells, more suited to being a drunk tank than any long-term holding cell. In one cell we spot the distinctive scales of a blue dragonborn, and as our footsteps clank on the stone, an equally distinctive voice begins to shout indignantly.

“You brutes, I demand you return my research materials to me! I was in the middle of some important work when- oh, you aren’t the warden. My goodness! Kyr Argent! I must say, it’s rather good to see a familiar face.” Oh, hi, Lucinius.

The cells are overcrowded – there must be 20 prisoners across 6 cells. Lucinius and everyone else crammed in with him look pretty beaten up. They all look completely normal; the ones with visible mutations have been imprisoned where people can see. These are the prisoners they wouldn’t be able to get away with holding publicly.

Lucinius has clearly got a rant building up. “I explained to them many times that I am a professor from Golden Academy, and they refused to listen! They said my studies are ‘heretical’ and my magics ‘invoke the name of the tyrant god’ – yes, obviously, they were written during the Aquilian empire, they said ‘Oberok’ every other word! It’s not a dirty word! Anyhow. Are you here to let us out?”

“We’re here to be advocates!”

“Oh, we’ve had advocates!” Lucinius huffs. “The Inquisitor is the prosecution, while one of those fanatic knights serves as our ‘advocate.’ It’s quite far from ideal; their position as advocate is that we ought to confess, if we understand the gravity of our crimes. And then they hit us a bit.”

“I’m unfamiliar with the customs of this land,” Gral allows, “but that doesn’t exactly sound like proper advocacy.”

“Well, I certainly don’t know how things are done in this country! I’ve never been accused of a cr- well, I have been accused of many crimes,” Lucinius admits. “I find it’s best never to assume about local customs. That got me into a LOT of trouble with the goblins. Did you know they have a ‘trial by fire?’ I misunderstood it, they just light a big fire to keep the courtroom warm while the trial goes all night. I went to great lengths to cast Protection from Energy! And of course it turns out casting spells as a prisoner is double illegal…”

“Double illegal?”

“Yes, it means they bring in twice as many judges.”

As he rants, the sight of innocent prisoners in miserable conditions seems to be a pretty strong argument. Remick’s fully on board with booting the Penitents out as soon as he can convene the town council.

Gral’s going to make a show of it. Loudly, he declares, “This is a violation of these citizens’ basic rights! We’ll need a full meeting of the town council before any Penitent activities continue!”

The Inquisitor hmms. “That’s…certainly something the Burgermeister could order. But nobody may leave if they have not been inspected. If we cannot continue our inspections, the town would shut down entirely.”

“The lockdown would only start once the Burgermeister declares it, which hasn’t happened yet,” Valeria interjects testily.

We’re politely and pointedly escorted out.

Lucinius shouts after us, “Don’t be long! Tell my bodyguards these people are not allowed into the cart without a warrant signed by someone of noble rank, or at least with a judicial position! Also, contact the embassy! They can’t do this to me, I have tenure-!”

The session closes as we discuss how the hell we’re going to get a Proper Council Meeting with the sheriff out “receiving instruction” from the Penitents and the Burgermeister convinced he’s indisposed. And we’ve got to get at least two of the three to vote the intruders out. That’s not gonna happen without them feeling like they have some way to protect the town from the Curse.

We fondly reminisce that our previous campaign’s party would definitely have started murdering people by now.

[theobxhummingbird]

Unreachable (Chapter 4)

(GIF credits to owner) (A JJ Maybank and Nova Fleming love story)

                                                                   The morning, John B took the HMS Pogue and arrived at the Cameron's boat, to drop off the scuba gear. After all, the compass had reached him; it was definitely some sort of sign. His dad was alive and John B was sure of it. He parked the HMS Pogue and hopped on the Cameron's boat. The glass door opened and revealed sleeping Sarah. He looked at her and then started walking; the scuba gear making noises. -Wheezie, shut up. -she moved around and rubbed her eyes. But as John B proceeded to walk, the metal hit something, which made Sarah completely awake. -God! You're not...Wheezie. -Correct. Yeah. -he sighs, -I'm sorry. -What are you doing? -Um...I'm just dropping off some scuba gear. Sarah fixed herself and got up in a sitting position. -What-what are you doing here? -It's our boat? It's also the only place with air conditioning. -Right! -Did you, um...top up the tanks? -Uh...No, no, power's down so the compressors were off. -he cleared his throat. -So, you're sneaking onto our boat at 5:00 am with empty tanks? -she said, looking at John B's speechless face. -I'll make sure to tell Ward. -Okay...okay. -he dropped the gear on the floor. -Yeah, yup, the middle of the room is fine. -Yeah...pretty much, that's what he told me to do. Bye! He started to walk, but then took a step back, -Actually...you know what--what exactly were you going to tell your dad. -Nothing much. Just that you poached our scuba gear. -Okay...uh...I borrowed it for a few hours. Okay? And then I brought it back intact and unharmed. -Minus air. -Okay, please don't tell him. He'll fire me. -What are you going to do? Pull a gun on me? -I didn't know JJ would do that. -That's convenient to believe. Maybe you should get better friends. -Well, maybe you should get a better boyfriend. -John B mocked her moves. -Like one who doesn't poach? -Look, please just don't tell him, okay? -Relax. I'm not going to tell him anything. Your secret's safe with me, John B. -they smiled at each other, -Okay, you can leave now. -Right, uh...I'll leave that--right there. -Bye. -said Sarah, pulling the blanket over herself and going back to sleep. After John B left, Wheezie showed up; now, not only Sarah knows about John B's secret.

Nova got ready for work; getting to the Wreck five minutes earlier this time. Her things were settled in one place and she put her waitress uniform on. There weren't many people at the Wreck, so she had time to text Pope about what their plans are for the day. He texted her saying, him and Kie will be at John B's later that day, and they'll be waiting for her there. While waiting for anything to show up that'll have to do with her job, she took out the journal:

-" Being cared about. A feeling I've been unfamiliar with for a long time. Or I might even say, having people who really care about me. After everything that had happened, I'm not scared anymore; let anything rule wars with me. And that, letting people in my life fear? That's long gone as well.  Maybe this is not who I am, but who I should be. The person I was; that fearful person, transformed into a completely different body. I'm not scared of having friends anymore; knowing they'll never leave me, because they're just like me. Sometimes, I'm scared of being sure; but, what if that's the only thing I need to be? To be sure that everything's going to be good; to be sure that no matter what toughness comes my way, I'l fight through it; no matter what occurs my home life, I'll be there to fix it. I feel like I should be here; the Outer Banks. The one place I never thought of, is now the place I belong to. How weird..."

-Nova. -said Mrs. Carrera, -How are you sweetie? -I'm doing well, Mrs. Carrera, how are you? -I'm well, thank you. Can you please organize a table; we're having friends from business over? Think you can do that? -Yes, yes of course. I'll reserve it in the garden, like always. -Thank you. Have a nice day. -she said, walking away to the kitchen.

The Pogues had already gathered in the Chateau. Earlier, John B and JJ, visited Ms. Lana's house to ask her if she knows anything about the compass. And the both of them, didn't only see Ms. Lana, but the two men who were shooting at them.

-And we were outside like this. -said JJ, leaning on the fireplace-chimney. -And all we hear is just, "Bam, bam, bam!" Knocking paint off the wall, G! From the inside. All right? And I'm just looking at him like-- Wait, first off, look at this. JJ shakes his hair, as white dust comes out of his hair. -That's dandruff, disgusting. -said Kie, looking as it falls on the ground. -Okay, thank you. -said Pope, moving him away. -Look at all this, all right. That's paint. At that point, I was just like... I'm waiting for death. -Oh, okay, so you saw the guys that shot us, right? -said Pope. -Yeah. -Did you get a good description of them? What did they look like? -Yeah, anything. -added Kie. -Anything we can bring to a police report? -Yeah. -Burly. -said JJ. -...Burly? -Yeah. You know like-- -That's not very helpful. -Okay, well, no, like the type of guy at my dad's garage. I mean, you guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers. -Yeah, yes. No, we know. -I can tell you with full confidence,guys. These boys, these killers, -he takes a blunt, -they're square groupers. -They're square groupers, like narco square grouper? Like Pablo Escobar square grouper. -Yeah, man. -You guys, not everything is kingpin movie. -Okay so, what does this square grouper look like? Specifically. -Dude, you weren't there, bro...-JJ raised his voice. -Because apparently, you don't know what to look for! -Dude! -said JJ, -I wasn't taking little mental Polaroids the entire time, man, I was under duress, okay? But I can tell you...I can tell you by the way that Ms. Lana was screaming... that these guys are serious, serious hombres, man. It's a heavy vibe right now, okay? I'm not liking this very much. -Why do they want the compass? -said Kie. -It's a piece of shit. You couldn't pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to. -Pope turned to John B, -No offense. I know it's in your family-- -The office. -said John B. -My dad. My dad's office. He always kept the office locked because he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research. We used to laugh at him like he was going to find it. But now that he's gone, I've just...I just left it as he kept it. -Yeah for when he gets back. -Kie eyes JJ and Pope not to say anything. The four of them walk into Big John's office; crowded with research and many books, as well as maps. John B takes a pinboard, to show the amount of owners that had the compass, before it was passed down to his dead. And surprisingly, everyone dies with it. -Hm. Sounds like there's a reccuring theme here. -JJ adds. -Yeah, you have a death compass. -said Pope. -No, I do not have a de- -You have a death compass. -Get rid of it. Seriously, dude? It's cursed and made its way back to you. -My dad used to talk about this compartment in here. Soldiers used to hide secret notes. -John B sat down, twisting the compass and shaking it to see if something falls off. -What's that? -Kie referred to the cap, where there was a writing. -That wasn't there before. This is my dad's handwriting. -How can you know that? -Because he does these weird Rs with the-- See it? -Can I see it? -said JJ, - "Red--Rout--" -No, I think that's an A. -It says Redfield. -said Kie. -Right. -Okay, well, what's Redfield. -Besides the most common name in the county... -Oh maybe--maybe it's a clue. Maybe it's a clue to where he's hiding. -Okay... -A clue? Come on, that's -- Kie shakes her head for Pope not to say anything, that'll bring John B down, -But if it is a clue, maybe it's an anagram? -Yes. Perfect. Anagram. You need paper. -John B reached for paper and pen and gave it to Pope. -How can you concentrate with that thing crowing at you? -said Pope, referring to the rooster in the coop that kept crowing the whole time. -JJ loves the rooster. -I love the rooster. -Okay, let me think. John B took a paper and wennt to the window, where he can easily write on the table. -Seriously, think. -said Kie. -Dedfiel. Colors--That's stupid. -What about... Ritalin? -Dreidel? Fiddler? -Let's stick with what we're...Defile. Does that mean anything to you? -Guys. -John B looks out the window; a car pulling up at his house, next to the Volkswagen, but no one's listening and they keep guessing. -Guys! Somebody's here. Everyone walks over to the window and sees the same guys that shoot them and the ones who beat up Ms. Lana. -Guys, guys, is that them? -No. -Is that them. -This is suboptimal. -Nova's here as well. Damn it! -said John B. -The girl needs to stay there, she'll get hurt. -What? -said Pope, peeking out the see his friend enter the Chateau, -Oh no! -John B, I told you. -said JJ. -Why does it always--JJ! Hey, look at me. -John B pins him to the wall. -Where's the gun? -Gun-uh-I- -Now you don't have the gun, the one time we need the gun? -Kie starts to pace around in panic. -It was in my backpack, and then I-- -Backpack-- On the porch. -It's on the porch. -JJ walks out, but slips over when they start entering the house and goes back to the office. -John Routledge! -Where's the gun? -They're on the front porch, guys. -Nova's going to come in, we're screwed bro. -said Pope, his hands finding their way on top of his head. -We need to help her and get out of here. -Oh no! Guys, window! Window! Hurry, hurry. JJ and Pope run over to the window, trying to lift it up, but it remains stuck. -Why is it taking so long? -It's painted shut, okay. -Routledge! -Guys, guys, here, I got it. -Kie brings an envelope knife and gives it to the boys. -Shh. One of the men walks over to Big John's office and smashes the door. -You better not be in there! He keeps kicking the door and it manages to crack a bit; pulling his gun out and shooting at the mechanism. Nova's eyes shot up at her friends, and JJ quickly intertwines his hand with hers and they run to the chicken coop. The men open the door and look around Big John's belongings, while the Pogues remain quiet in the chicken coop. They come out with some things from the office; loading them in their car. John B peeks to see what they're doing; Kie panicking and crying on his side. But the rooster keeps crowing. -Do something, Pope. Shut him up. -JJ says through greeted teeth, as his and Nova's hand stay intertwined. -What do you want me to do? -Pet it, or talk to it. I don't know. -Kie said. Rutter closes the back of the jeep, and looks over to the chicken coop, taking out his gun after the amounts of time the rooster flies in it and crows. John B sits down next to Kie. -He heard it. -Nova said, squeezing JJ's hand; the clucking continuing as he walks slowly. -JJ...he heard it.

-I got you, emerald girl. -he said, caressing her hair quickly.

-You do something. -Pope whispers. When the rooster flies over, JJ grabs his neck and pins it to the ground, squeezing it hard until it goes quiet. Kie sobs at the sound of it dying and John B puts his hand over hers. JJ comes and intertwines his hand with Nova's, who peeks to see if he's too close to the coop. -Ratter! What the hell are you doing? Let's go. The guy walks over to the jeep and climbs in it, shutting the door. Kie cries and they all breathe heavily, as the engine starts working; John B peeking to see when they leave. Nova sighs, as the five of them leave the coop, still holding JJ's hand. -Sorry, Novs. -Kie hugs her friend tightly; her whole body trembling. -Are you guys okay? Any of you hurt? -she asks looking at them. -Except the rooster, -said JJ, -the rest of us are fine. The three other friends scratch their head, looking at JJ and Nova, who were unaware of the tight grip of each other's hands. When JJ turns around, he sees them all staring at something. -What, bro? -he said to Pope, swinging his hand in front of his face to get him back to reality. While Kie, eyes Nova at their hands. -Uh...-she slips her hand off of JJ's, -sorry...it was in the heat of the moment. -Yeah...at least you didn't, you know, get hurt because of us. -he scratched his forehead. -Let's go guys, get in the van. -said John B, jumping in the driver's seat.

-I mean, it's obvious, right? -said John B, looking partly at the road and partly at his friends, -A family heirloom. What better place to hide a message? He had to know it was going to get back to me, right? -Yeah, it's possible. -It could also be possible, -spoke Pope, -that you're concocting wild theories to help, you know...deal with your sad feels. -Pope? -Bro, you know how I process my sad feels. Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies, that's how I do it. -I'm not concocting, okay?- John B raised his voice, -My dad's trying to give me a message. -If it helps you believe, John B. -said Kie, licking her lips with a small frown curving them. -Look, I-I don't need a therapy session, okay? Look, I'm not tripping out. -It's okay to trip, bro, but-- -Look, my--dad is missing, okay?Missing. You know what it's like to have the person closest to you vanish and then have no idea what happened. Just wake up every morning wondering. -I understand your pain John B, -Nova added, -really, I do. Your situation is different of course, but not having your parent in your life suddenly...it's just... indescribable. -It's been almost a year. -said Kie. -Hey, he could have been kidnapped. That's definitely a possibility. -Or he's somewhere lost on a desert island; looking for help. -Yeah, he could also be in a Soviet sub, getting interrogated by the KGB somewhere. -Absolutely. -JJ agreed, -Uh...or Atlantis. -JJ. -Kie warned him, turning back to John B, -What do you think the message is? -Redfield. Redfield Lighthouse. That's my dad's favorite place. The Volkswagen parked in front of a big lighthouse; the five of them exiting it and coming in front of the Redfield Lighthouse. -Right. -John B turned to JJ, -You're going to post up and look out for bogeys, okay? -Wait..why me? -Because you're not coming. -said Pope. -Why? -There are independent and dependent variables. And you're an independent. We don't know what you're going to do. -Shut up! Shut up! -Listen to me for a second. Pope, you stand look out with JJ. Okay? Nova will be here too, we won't put her in more danger. If we get split up, we meet back at JJ's house. -Great. -said Kie, stepping away together with John B. -I'm gonna work on my merit scholarship essay and I'm trying to keep felonies to a minimum. -All right Pope, would you just shut up already. -said JJ, juggling a pinecone. -Leave the kid be, already. -said Nova, leaning against the van. She looked up at the sky, observing the blueness. -Nova. -Pope came over to her, - Can we talk about something, so JJ cannot complain, because there's the two us? -Sure. -she said, looking at Pope,  -Open a topic. -For example...um... what's the possibility, John B finds what he's looking for in that Lighthouse? -In my opinion, he's looking at the wrong place, since the easiest way you find it, is always the wrong place. Big John must've known he'll find this place easier, and left it to a more secretive place than the lighthouse. Maybe there's another place called Redfield. Or maybe I'm just making up my own theory. But something about this place, doesn't feel right to me. -What feels right to you anyways? -said JJ. -Unassuming guys? Safety? It could be. -said Nova. -Wait...what's the deal with you two anyways? -said Pope. -Ms. Nova shall explain the unwanted situation. -No, I know what happened, just why do you have to hate each other? -I don't hate JJ, he's being all presumptuous the whole time. -I don't trust you, okay? Maybe you're Rafe Cameron's secret girlfriend and spread the information all the way to him and then he tells his dad. -I have no idea what Rafe Cameron looks like in first place. I've only seen Sarah and Wheezie, but not Rafe. So stop making assumptions. -You know what, I think you love each other. -Pope, you can't love a person that you met just a few days ago, it's impossible. -Love at first sight? -Yeah bro, you believe in that shit? -Uh, yeah, since you're arguing like a married couple, a person wouldn't think other. -Let's just look out for bogeys and leave these topics for a different time. -Nova said and started looking around to see if she spots an intruder. Suddenly, she hears sirens and spots a police car. -Oh shit! -Pope and JJ start running, leaving Nova behind. -Guys! My foot. -she tries to pull it from the branches. JJ runs back to her, cleaning away the branches from her foot and running back to the van hand in hand with Nova.

After a long time of not coming, JJ, Pope and Nova looked over at the sound of a horn. John B with the van. -Let's ride! -he yelled as the three of them loaded in the van. -This better be good, bro. They drove to the Wreck, where Pope went inside to get Kie. -She said she's not coming. -What'd you do to her, John B? -Shit. Hang on, I'll deal with it. -he opened the door and stepped outside, going to Kie. Suddenly, Nova's phone buzzed and she got a text from Kie saying: "John B kissed me." -Oh! -Nova yelled at JJ's ear, making him jump. -Yo, what is wrong with you, emerald girl? -Just...sudden shock and surprise...sorry.

-You mind if I just relax on this one? -said JJ from the back of the van, -It's been a long day, and a lot of weird stuff's gone down. I'm just going to lay low. Oh, did you want a hit of this? -I keep the signal clear. -said Pope, pushing away JJ's hand. -You, emerald girl? -I keep the signal clear too. -Dude, okay. Do you understand that your problem is that you don't get creative? -said JJ, as Nova rolled her eyes, dropping her head back against the van. -If you got creative, then-- -Look, I--I know I was wrong about the lighthouse, all right? And pretty much wrong about everything else going on. But, I--I was right about one thing. Okay? My dad is trying to tell me something.

-Come on, hey. -said John B in the darkness. -Hey, come on. -I'm coming. This place is scary. -said Kie, stepping out of the van. -I feel like in a Scooby-Doo mystery hunt. -said Nova. -John B what are we doing? -Shut up. Okay. You know how you're trying to remember a song and can't remember who sings it? -Yeah? -So, Redfield. This whole time I thought it was a place, right? But it's not a place. It's a person. -he lights the lantern up to a grave stone, with the name 'Redfield'. -Voi-effing-la. -said JJ. -It's my great-great-grandmother. Olivia Redfield. That was her maiden name. -Help me with the door, come on. One...two...three. -John B and Pope push the door slightly open. -Are you pushing? -said Pope, grunting as he pushes the door. -Yeah, I'm pushing. -Come on. -Hold on. I got it. -JJ comes over for help. -Come on, this door's like 700 pounds. It's not going to budge. -We didn't come this far to get this far, all right? -Whoa! -Pope jumps back, as a snake appears from a crack. -A snake! -Whoa, whoa, whoa! -That's a moccasin, all right. Ye olde Dr. Cottonmouth. Death in tall grass. -JJ starts barking to the snake. -JJ, shut up. Shut up! -Oh my god, it's going to bite him, what is he thinking? -said Nova, trying to nudge him to move back. -You're going to freaking wake the dead, man. -They're afraid of dogs. Everyone knows that, man. Wait, hold on, hold on, hold on. -What? -John B and Kie say at the same time. -If there's one, there's probably dozens. All around. -What? -Stop. You're scaring me. -Kie said, as he continued barking. -Stop barking at the snakes. -Shut up! John, look. We're not going to get in there, all right? It's not budging. -I can get in if you want to; I'm not afraid of snakes, did a lot of lab experiments on them. -offered Nova. -No, you're not going in there, emerald girl. Not risking your life for the third time today. You’re staying here with us. -JJ was quick to react.

-Okay, mommy. -said Nova, getting a side glare from JJ.

-We should probably just go. -I can get through. -said Kie. -What?No,no,no,no. You think you're gonna fit through the hole? That hole? -said John B. -Look this is about your dad. And honestly I really don't believe in it, but you deserve to know the truth. I'll do it. Come on. -she walks closer to the grave. -Give her a boost. -I'm going to boost you, all right. -JJ kneels a bit, -I've seen it in the movies several times. Ready? -Remind me what we're looking for. -You'll know when you see it. -Hold my flashlight. -she gives it to Nova. JJ boosts her up and she goes into the grave. -Okay, flashlight? -I got it. -Nova reaches in and hands it to her. -You alive? You got like, a --a heartbeat and everything? -So far. -she looks around. -Uh I need some more light. -Yeah, yeah, here, I got you. -said John B, reaching his lantern inside. -Did you find something? Is there gold? -Oh my god. -said Kie, walking over to a place and stunningly looking at something.