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lewmagoo · 2 months

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six summers | bob floyd

description: it's been six years. six years since you walked away from the man you loved. six years since the night that your own foolish actions led to the disappearance of sixteen-year-old melissa seresin. you’ve spent these last few years living with crippling guilt. and after everything that happened, the last thing you are expecting is an invite to return to the camp and reassume your role as counselor. but here you are, staring in disbelief at a letter asking you to do just that. providing you with the opportunity to make things right. will you be able to come to terms with the past and allow yourself to accept this second chance? or will you let your guilt consume you?

characters: bob floyd x reader, the dagger squad as their respective characters, pete mitchell, penny benjamin, a number of my own ocs

warnings: 18+ only, mentions of death, guilt, references to sex, mentions of anxiety

series status: ongoing

listen to the playlist here!

this story is inspired by @ryebecca and this fantastic moodboard she made ; i also drew some inspiration from riley sager's the last time i lied

*this is my own original work - i do not consent to having it reposted or redistributed in any way

July 30th, 1980

1:15 am

All you felt was terror. Icy cold, like someone had shoved their frigid fingers beneath your shirt, digits pressing harsh, angry bruises into the skin while they were at it. Your arms were wrapped around yourself as you stood in the damp morning air, your eyes flitting about nervously, your gut churning with nausea.

“You do realize that your negligence in this situation is going to come with consequences, right? How could you be so stupid?!” Penny Mitchell’s voice had a sharp edge to it, despite her lowered tone. Her eyes were piercing. You couldn’t look at her.

“Don’t try to pin this all on her. I’m just as much to blame.” That was Bobby’s voice, coming from beside you, an air of protectiveness emanating from him as he stepped closer, standing in solidarity with you.

“Oh, trust me, I’m holding you responsible, too. But she’s the one who was supposed to be in charge of that cabin. If she would have been at her post, this wouldn’t have happened. But no! The two of you were off doing God knows what, while one of our campers wandered off into the night!”

Penny got into your face, pointing her finger, her anger palpable, radiating off her in waves. “You had better pray that girl is still alive, because if she winds up dead, her blood is on your hands, counselor.”

May 18th, 1986

10:30 am

“Mail’s in!” The voice of your roommate carried through your apartment, pulling your attention from the rhythmic tapping of the antique typewriter you’d picked up from a yard sale. Without a second thought, you sprang from your chair, flinging open your bedroom door, bare feet quick against carpet as you hurried toward the kitchen, where Margie was just walking through the door with a stack of mail.

“Any of it addressed to me?” You asked, a hopeful inflection in your voice.

Margie nodded, tossing the envelopes onto the countertop. “Yeah, you’re popular, got two letters addressed to you.”

Eagerly, you shuffled through the stack before you located the letters she was talking about. One had no definitive markings, so you had no idea where it was from. But the other had a promising logo on the front– The Capital Gazette.

“The Gazette sent something back!” You exclaimed, flipping the envelope over, fingers trembling as you tore into the seal.

Margie gasped, her attention immediately zeroing in on the letter you held. “What did they say?!” She exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Gimme a minute!” You shot back as you rushed to unfold the paper. Your eyes hurriedly scanned the contents, but within moments, your shoulders fell, the thrill of hope fading away to heavy disappointment. The words we regret to inform you were all you needed to read to know what the letter was about.

“I didn’t get the job,” came your glum statement.

“What?” Margie snatched the paper off the counter when you let it drop, reading it for herself. “Oh, come on! You’re the best damn writer I know, how could they turn you down?!”

You shook your head, fighting the tears of disappointment that had gathered on your lash line. “They don’t need me. They’ve got better writers.”

“That’s bullshit!” She huffed, shaking her head, knocking some of her unkempt curls loose from her haphazard ponytail.

“Whatever,” you said, bitterly. “There are other newspapers I can apply to. Other magazines. People are hiring all over the place,” you said, hoping to instill hope in your own heart. But it did little to lift your spirits.

Your roommate sighed softly, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “I’m sorry. Really.”

“Thanks, Mar. So am I.”

Her attention shifted to the other, unopened letter on the counter. “What’s that one say?”

With a clueless shrug, you reached for it. All it bore was your address in handwriting that was oddly familiar. Tentatively, you tore into the envelope, brows furrowed as you unfolded the paper and began to read.

And then, “holy shit.”

“What is it?” Margie demanded, curious. When you looked at her, she noticed the expression of worry etched into your brow.

“Camp Mitchell,” you whispered.

At that, the woman’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God.” And then, she waved her hand, motioning you on. “What does it say?”

“They…they want me to come back as a counselor.”

I hope this letter finds you well. I am reaching out to you because I wanted to extend a formal invitation to return to camp as a counselor this summer. I know that things ended on a sour note for all of us involved, but Pete and I desire to breathe new life into this camp. We want to give other campers the chance to experience the wonder and magic of summertime at Camp Mitchell. I understand if you would prefer not to return, but it would be an honor to have you back with us again. Think we can agree to let bygones be bygones? I sure do hope so. Please give me a call at the number below and let me know if you would like to return and reassume your role as a camp counselor. Arrival deadline for counselors is May 24th. Hope to see you soon!

Best wishes,

Penny Mitchell

You stared at the words in absolute shock. They wanted you to come back? After everything that had happened? After your own foolishness had resulted in a girl going missing? You had to admit, it was a bold move on Penny’s part.

The police had heavily investigated you when young Melissa Seresin went missing six years prior. Penny had even blamed you for the girl’s disappearance. It was hard to imagine her wanting you to come anywhere near her camp ever again.

“I need to sit down,” you muttered, tossing the letter back onto the counter and stepping toward the kitchen table, where you hurriedly pulled out one of the chairs and lowered yourself into the seat. Two life-altering events had just taken place in the span of five minutes. You needed to process all of it.

As you tried to regain your wits, Margie scanned over the letter. Then, she sauntered over to you, letting out a sigh as she pulled out the chair across from you and flopped down into it, her legs parted, arms falling down to dangle over the sides. She blew a pesky curl away from her face.

Sympathetic brown eyes landed upon you, and the girl before you smiled softly. Understandingly. “What are you gonna do?”

“I really don’t know,” you said. “Since the job with The Gazette fell through…I might have no choice but to take up the offer to go back to camp. At least I’d be making some kind of income during the summer while I try to figure things out.”

Margie raised a dark brow. “Listen, you do what you think is best for you. But…after everything that happened there, are you sure you’re ready to go back? It’s only been six years.” She was not coming from a place of judgment. She was coming from a place of genuine concern for her friend.

You groaned softly, placing your head in your hands. “I dunno know what to do. Honestly, I’m not ready. But then again it might give me closure. And maybe that’s what Penny is thinking. If she wants to make things right with me after the way things ended…maybe I should go.”

The girl sighed. “Yeah, I guess closure might be something that comes outta this. I just don’t want you to have to go through all that shit again, though.”

Your mouth quirked into a grateful smile. “I know, Mar. I’ve gotta think about it, first. I’m not making any decisions yet.”

“Well, let me know what you decide. Whatever choice you make, I’ll support you.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

As Margie left you at the table to be alone with your thoughts, you considered the weight of the situation. It had all happened so fast, and you felt as if you were caught up in a whirlwind. You only had a week to make a decision, because you had to be at camp on the 24th if you decided to go.

Were you ready to go back, after only six short years? The thought made your stomach turn. Camp Mitchell was a place that held a lot of trauma for you. Your life had fallen apart there.

You had been a first-year counselor in the summer of 1980. A job meant to get you through the summer, before you returned to college in the fall. You remembered being so hopeful and excited about what the summer held.

Camp Mitchell was a camp situated in Michigan’s wilderness. Secluded, surrounded by forests as far as the eye could see. Quaint little wooden cabins. A mess hall. A volleyball pit. A lake. All the other amenities that a typical summer camp would have.

You were put in charge of the junior/senior girls' cabin. Eleventh and twelfth graders. You were slightly intimidated because you were only a few years older than they were. You worried that they would not respect you. But much to your relief, the girls accepted you with open arms.

Throughout the many weeks of camp, you bonded with several different girls who passed through your cabin. But none of them connected as well with you as Melissa Seresin.

July 1980

She was the younger sister of one of the other counselors, Jake Seresin, and she was sweet as could be. She attended camp most of the summer, because her brother worked there, and she didn’t want to remain stuck at home alone while her parents traveled for the summer.

So, she tagged along with Jake. Unlike her brother, she was not cocky. She had a very kindhearted demeanor. A little spoiled, once in a while, due to being the youngest and only girl of rich parents and a doting older brother, but nothing you couldn’t tolerate.

Melissa remained a semi-permanent fixture in your cabin, even as groups of girls from different places — schools, church youth groups, family groups, so on and so forth — passed through all summer.

She knew the camp like the back of her hand, and had spent a few summers there already. You didn’t have to worry about her like you might other campers, because she was well aware of the camp’s procedures.

That was why it was so jarring when, one night in the middle of the summer, she disappeared without a trace.

Late one night, after lights out, the girls in your cabin noticed her absence. Melissa was always in bed come lights out. Not always asleep, but certainly always present. Her neatly made, unoccupied bed raised suspicions, but it was her missing backpack that made the girls think that she had left altogether.

You were not at your post like you were supposed to be. Earlier that night, you had enforced lights out, but soon after had slipped out into the night to meet someone. The girls ranged from fifteen to eighteen years old, so you were not particularly concerned about them getting up to mischief. But in your haste to leave, you neglected to double-check that Melissa was present.

To your utter shame, you had left to meet up with another counselor. The head counselor of the seventh and eighth-grade boys' cabin, Robert Floyd. Bob to his friends. Mr. Bob to the campers. Bobby to you, and only you.

It wasn’t in your nature to sneak around. Neither was it in Bob’s. But you had gotten tangled up in an impassioned summer fling, and you took advantage of every free moment you had to be together.

It was in that time span of you and Bob sneaking off to the lake, that Melissa had gone missing. And when you returned to the cabin an hour later, the girls were all awake, in a slight state of upheaval.

“Where have you been?!” Asked Claudia, one of the senior girls. “I was about to leave and go find Mrs. Mitchell!”

“I needed some air. Why, what’s up?” You cautiously asked.

Claudia motioned to Melissa’s empty bed. “Melissa never made it in for lights out.”

You stared at the bed, its covers untouched and meticulously tucked in, as a hotel bed would be. That was the way she made it every morning. She hadn’t been in that bed since last night. “No, she was here when I left!” You insisted.

“Um, no she wasn’t,” Marissa, another senior, piped up. “Plus, her backpack is gone.”

“Oh, God. Well, that’s my bad for sure. Okay, um, I’m sure she can’t have gotten far. She knows this camp well. Don’t worry, I’ll go take a look around. The rest of you, stay put. Lemme just do a count to make sure nobody else went off with her.”

After a headcount, you came up with fourteen girls. Melissa would make fifteen, so she was the only one missing. Huffing out a sigh, and attempting to keep yourself calm and neutral so the girls wouldn’t panic, you squared your shoulders.

“I’ll go grab another counselor and we’ll take a look. Claudia, you’re the oldest, so you’re in charge. Make sure no one leaves. The rest of you, try to get some sleep. I know you’re a little freaked right now but it’s gonna be okay.” The biggest lie you could have told them. It was, in fact, not going to be okay.

“What should we do if she comes back?” Claudia asked, running a nervous hand through her thick brunette locks. Her dark eyes were fearful, although she was trying to appear brave, just as you were trying to do.

“Just make sure she stays put. I’ll come back and check in a bit, if I don’t find her, and we can touch base then.”

Once you were certain the girls understood the plan, you excused yourself again, stepping out into the humid July night. Crickets sang as you ambled down the path that led to the boys’ cabins, but the pounding of your heart in your ears drowned out the sound.

Your hands shook, unsteady as you held your flashlight before you. Tears blurred your vision, and the heat of embarrassment washed over you. How could you be so stupid? Here you were, off getting laid while one of your girls was nowhere to be found.

You had to look for her, but you weren’t going to do it alone. Hurriedly, you ascended the steps of cabin 13, the first of the boys’ cabins. Light on your feet, so as not to step on any squeaky boards, you crept closer to the door.

Three soft raps, five seconds apart. That was your code. And sure enough, within moments, the door inched open, and there was your Bobby. You had just seen him twenty minutes prior, but he’d already changed into his sleep clothes. An old camp shirt and basketball shorts.

Brow furrowed, he quietly closed the door behind him, stepping out onto the porch. You reached for his hand and guided him off the porch, onto the soft, sandy ground. “What’s goin’ on, Kit?” He asked. The nickname he’d dubbed you for reasons so much more lighthearted than the situation you were facing.

“Melissa’s gone,” you whispered. “The girls said she was never there for lights out.”

“Huh? But you checked on them before you left.”

“I did, but I…I guess I just missed Melissa. I thought she was there, but tonight was so chaotic…God, I can’t believe I could be so stupid” You despaired.

“Shh,” Bob soothed, reaching out to run comforting hands down your arms. “Hey, she probably just went for a walk. I’m not close to her, but I know she likes to go and write in that journal of hers a lot. She’s probably doing that.”

“But that’s not like her. Yeah, she writes in her diary but she’s never done this before. Just…up and left like that. I’m scared, Bobby. I think something might’ve happened to her. And it’s all my fault.”

But he was already shaking his head. “No, don’t even let your mind go there. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” His hands had moved to cup your cheeks. “Tell you what, I’ll help you look for her. If we don’t find her in the next hour, we can tell Penny and get a search party goin’.”

You prayed it wouldn’t come to that, but the sick feeling in your gut told you otherwise. It was your fault, no matter how much Bobby tried to assure you it wasn’t. If Melissa was truly missing, then you were the one to blame. But you didn’t dare speak it into the air. You couldn’t.

“O-okay. We can look together, then.”

And so, the two of you set off on the search for Melissa Seresin. Missy, as her brother liked to call her. You thought of Jake, who was in charge of the senior boys’ cabin. You knew he’d be pissed that you didn’t wake him up immediately and tell him what was going on. He was very protective of his baby sister. But you didn’t want to involve him just yet. You had to try to find her yourself, first.

You set out to search all the places she frequented. Melissa wasn’t as outgoing as her brother. She had a vibrant personality, but also had introverted tendencies. She cherished her alone time, so it wasn’t odd for her to be at the lake, or the horse stables, writing. But she was always visible, and she had never sneaked off before. And certainly not after dark, either.

These woods were terrifying at night. It was easy to get lost in their vastness. Even a girl who knew her way around could get lost. But you prayed that wasn’t the case.

You took to searching her usual hangout spots. The lake, even though you and Bob had been there a half hour ago, and hadn’t seen her. Sure enough, she wasn’t there. Then, you took a peek in the horse stables. The camp had not yet obtained horses to occupy the stables, so it was just an empty building.

Hopeful, you followed Bob inside, holding your breath as he called out, “Melissa? You in here, honey? It’s Bob Floyd.”

But you were met with dead silence, so deafening it brought a shiver down your spine. “Oh, my God. She’s gone. She’s gone forever. This is all my fault!” You panicked, burying your face in your hands.

Bobby, ever the calm and steady one, gently soothed you. “Hey. Hey! Look at me.”

You lifted your tearful eyes to his face, illuminated by the yellow glow of your flashlight.

“It’s gon’ be okay, alright? We’ll find her. We just need to go get Penny and Pete and tell ‘em what happened. We can get a search party organized. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

Lovingly, he took your hand, and together, you made the trek back toward the main part of camp, where the office, mess hall, and staff quarters were. The entire walk, your mind was spiraling with all the possibilities of what could have happened to Melissa.

Something was wrong. You knew it.

And, as it would turn out, you were, unfortunately, right. Melissa Seresin never was found. Not when you and the other counselors organized a search party. Not when the police got involved. Not when Jake and Melissa’s dad, an agent in the FBI, got his team involved. It was as if she’d vanished into thin air. Gone without a trace.

Jake blamed you. But that was okay, because you blamed yourself, too.

Your own negligence was the reason Melissa was gone. And the police grilled you for it. Much to your utter relief, the Seresins chose not to press charges. But you were left to live with the guilt, and that was punishment enough.

And now, here you were. Six years later. Wounds from the past only partially healed. Presented with an opportunity to go back to the place where it all started, and ended. If you did return, would those wounds reopen, and drain the blood from your veins? Or would those wounds finally heal?

And most importantly, did you have the guts to find out?

One Week Later

A ticket reading Harper, Michigan was clutched tightly in your hand, the paper rumpling from your grip. Your suitcase and duffel bag were beside you, as you stood at the bus depot, waiting for the Greyhound to pull up and take you to your destination.

“I still think you’re crazy for this,” Margie spoke from beside you. She’d come to see you off.

You turned to her, taking in her soft smile, despite her disapproval of your choice. “I know,” you replied.

“But I also understand why you want to do this. I really hope it gives you the closure you’re looking for.”

You threw your arms around your friend’s shoulders, hugging her tight. “Thanks, Mar. I’ll try to give you a call at some point in the next few weeks, but the only phone on the property is the one in the main office and I doubt I’ll have time.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can tell me all about it when you get back,” she assured you.

You took one last good look at her, as you knew you wouldn’t see her for a few months, if you fulfilled your commitment to work the entire camp season. The late morning sun shone down from the sky, illuminating her dark curls. Always so unkempt, but the style suited her.

“I’ll be seeing ya,” you finally said.

She nodded, squeezing your hand. “Take care of yourself. And good luck.”

The bus pulled into the stop as you bid your final goodbyes, and then, you handed off your luggage to the attendant to pack away beneath the bus before you climbed the steps into the large vehicle, flashing your ticket to the driver. You took a seat toward the back, settling in and placing your purse beside you, hoping that you would get two of the tackily upholstered seats all to yourself.

As soon as you were settled, you fished your Walkman out of your bag, unraveling the headphones and placing them on your head. As soon as you hit play, the opening sound of the 1975 Eagles album, One of These Nights, filled your ears.

You had purposely chosen this tape to accompany you on your trip, because it held a lot of nostalgic memories for you. Namely, it had been a gift from your Bobby. He’d given it to you in the beginning stages of your romance, after you’d expressed to him that the album was one of your favorites.

“I want you to have it,” he insisted. “A memento that you can have all the time, to remind you of what a great time we had together here.”

And you did have a great time. But the trauma of Melissa’s disappearance had soured the whole thing. All you had left of Bobby was this tape, and a few braided jute bracelets he had made you, from plant fibers. You still wore them on your wrist to this day.

He had tried to keep in contact with you after the camp shut down. He’d sent letters. Called your home phone. But you never answered. As much as you loved him, the reminder of what had happened was too painful, and you let your connection to him fizzle out.

But as you listened to the familiar cords, a rush of memories flooded you, the wave so intense that it took your breath away. Flashes of Bob’s beautiful face. Twinkling eyes, blushing cheeks, a crinkled button nose. The prettiest laughter you’d ever heard.

Large, warm hands exploring. Lips trailing searing kisses down your sternum. Whispers of your name. Groans of pl–

With a gasp, you snatched the headphones off your head, eyes flickering about, as if someone around you could have heard your thoughts. But everyone else was in their own little world, completely oblivious to the salacious flashbacks you had just experienced.

But they made you warm with shame nonetheless.

You’d be foolish not to admit that you’d thought of Bobby over the years. Looked back on your encounters with fondness. With desire. You’d been sexually involved with a few other people since then, but the entire time, you could only think of him. It was why you’d stopped seeing other people. They weren’t your Bobby.

You wondered if he thought about you, too.

More importantly, you wondered if he’d be returning to Camp Mitchell like you were. Were you ready to face him again? The thought made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

You imagined he’d moved on. He had to. Hell, he probably had a wife and kids already. Imagining such a thing sent a queasy rush through you. You still weren’t over him, and you supposed you never would be. He was your first great love.

But he wasn’t the only person you would potentially face from your past.

Your mind went to the other counselors you’d worked with that fateful summer. Specifically, you thought of Jake Seresin. Surely he wouldn’t return to camp, right? Not after his baby sister had disappeared from that very place. It had to be too painful for him.

Little did you know, everyone you had worked with was also traveling from their own respective homes and cities, headed right for Camp Mitchell, just like you were.

The camp was founded by Pete and Penny Mitchell, a husband and wife duo. They had started it with the best of intentions. It was in its fifth successful year when you came on staff. And that just so happened to be the last year it was in operation.

Until now.

What had made the couple decide it was a good idea to reopen the camp, you had no idea. But you were going to give it a chance. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

But several hours later, as the Greyhound pulled into the station in Harper, a tiny town boasting of a general store, a bus depot, and a long, winding road that led up to the camp itself.

As you stepped off the bus, you realized one very important detail: you had no idea how you were even getting up to the camp. Would they send a driver down to retrieve everyone?

Your question was soon answered when you caught sight of a large white poster board propped against a nearby lamppost. CAMP MITCHELL STAFF WAIT HERE. A DRIVER WILL ESCORT YOU TO CAMP.

With a sigh, you rolled your suitcase over to the post, hoping you wouldn’t have to wait long. And you didn’t. About five minutes later, an old teal-colored truck came down the road, its engine obnoxiously loud. On the side, Camp Mitchell was printed in bold letters.

You straightened, smoothing out your travel-rumpled clothes as you grabbed your belongings, prepared to help load everything into the truck. It didn’t even occur to you that you might know the driver. You expected to meet someone entirely new.

As soon as the vehicle pulled to a stop at the curb, you were already moving to the truck bed, hoisting your duffel bag over the side, letting it land with a satisfying thump.

“Here, let me,” a familiar voice spoke up, and in moments, a pair of hands were stealing your suitcase away, heaving it into the bed.

You looked up at the man assisting you, and your blood ran cold. As he turned from putting your luggage in place, he froze, too. Wide blue eyes, no longer hidden beneath a pair of wireframes, locked with your own.

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t.

But he did. In a voice as smooth and soft as butter, yet breathless with surprise. “Kit?”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

Kit. The nickname he’d dubbed you six years ago. It was something so simple. So silly. You’d had an affinity for KitKat bars that summer. They were the only candy bars you liked from the camp store. As a joke, Bobby had said “I should call you KitKat, since you like those things so much.”

And thus, it was shortened to Kit. The name stuck.

Hearing it again made your head spin. You felt woozy on your feet. You swayed a little. A memory flashed in your mind. You and him. Sitting under the old weeping willow. His fingertips wiping chocolate from the corner of your mouth.

It sent a burning ache through your chest.

“Oh my God,” you whispered. “B-Bobby.” The first words you’d spoken to him in six years.

He let out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

You gathered yourself, trying to regain your composure. “I didn’t either,” you whispered.

He offered a tentative smile. “That doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you, though.”

You lifted your head, brow furrowed in confusion. “You are?”

“Gosh, I am. It’s been too long. I didn’t…didn’t know what happened to you. You never responded to my calls or letters. I thought maybe…” He wouldn’t speak it out loud. He couldn’t.

But you inferred what he meant from his tone. He’d feared that the trauma of what had happened had been too much for you to handle. That you’d succumbed to it all.

“I was working on myself. Trying to heal.”

He nodded. “Understandable.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled again. “I really am glad to see you, though. You look well.”

You shrugged. “I’m workin’ on it. And I’m glad to see you too.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and you realized how much he’d changed, but also stayed the same. He’d filled out. His shoulders were more broad. Muscular. His glasses were gone, presumably replaced with contacts. His hair, once close-cropped, was longer now, curling at the nape of his neck, peeking out from beneath the baseball cap he wore. His jaw was shadowed with stubble.

He looked like a man.

But there was still that boyish glint in his eyes, and hiding behind his smile. Still that same gentleness reserved particularly for you. It was overwhelming, and you could feel your chest beginning to tighten.

“Are you, uh, are you ready to head up there? Or do ya need a minute?” Bobby asked, his voice low. Laced with concern.

You stepped back. “I thought I could do this. Maybe I can’t.”

He let you have your space. “Take all the time you need.”

The rush of memories flooding you was overwhelming. The last time you saw him. The last thing you said to him.

Six Years Ago

The day you left camp, it was raining. Pouring from the sky in sheets, washing everything in a gray hue that made the world look like a watercolor painting.

The sandy ground squashed beneath your feet as you walked toward that old truck, with the camp’s logo on the side. Your luggage was stuffed into the truck bed, wrapped in plastic garbage bags so it wouldn’t get wet in the downpour.

As you climbed into the cab, Bobby came running out of the main office, making a beeline for the truck. He scrambled to wrench open the door and join you inside, breathing labored as he settled into the seat.

For a few moments, it was silent, save for the sound of him moving to start the engine. He fiddled with the heat dial, hoping to reduce the fog on the windows, as the rain had made the air unseasonably chilly that morning.

You both sat there, staring out the windshield, watching the water trickle down the glass. He made no move to put the truck in gear.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Bobby—”

“No, listen to me. I’m sorry it came to this. It shouldn’t have.”

“What’s done is done. Please, let’s just get out of here. I can’t stay in this place another minute.”

Bobby lingered for a moment, his eyes on you, even as you refused to look at him. You were afraid that if you did, you’d melt into a fit of tears. So, with a soft sigh, he put the truck in drive, and began the journey down the winding dirt road that led out of camp.

The trip was silent. You had nothing left to say, because you’d exhausted all your words these last few weeks. Countless hours of interrogation. Recounting that night over and over again. The conclusion was that a girl was missing, and it likely would not have happened if you’d been doing your job. That was a sense of guilt that you would have to live with for the rest of your life.

Bob pulled into the bus station fifteen minutes later, and you didn’t hesitate as you hurried to slide out of your seat, shoes colliding with wet asphalt. Your chest was tight, eyes blurring with tears as you rushed to grab your luggage.

“Would ya stop for a minute?!” Bobby exclaimed, reaching out to gently grab at your arm.

But you jerked away from him. “Please, don’t…don’t make this harder than it is,” you whispered.

He stared at you, brilliant blue eyes wide, filled with emotion. “So, what, you won’t even say goodbye?”

You feared that saying goodbye would break the dam, and you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself together. You’d fall into his arms, sobbing your heart out, and you would never get on that bus. The man before you sighed, shaking his head before he moved to haul your suitcase out of the truck, placing the plastic-covered bag on the sidewalk.

“That’s it then?” He spoke, his tone grim.

Squaring your shoulders, you nodded, forcing yourself to hold it together. “Goodbye, Robert.”

You turned to leave, and he watched you go, his heart falling to pieces within him. He was losing you, perhaps forever, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He wanted to go after you. Wanted to shake you and tell you to just listen. But you were so entrenched in the trauma of what had happened that he wasn’t sure you could listen to reason at all.

So he let you leave. He watched you climb onto that Greyhound, bound for home, all while he was left there with a wound in his heart, wishing that things could have ended differently. Wishing that your love for each other had been enough to keep you with him.

But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. And that was something he had to live with.

May 1986

Seeing you again was a lot for him. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. Even more so, now, if that was possible. He was also hit with a rush of emotions. He never thought he’d see you again. When he’d received the letter from Penny, inviting him back to camp, he had thought about you, and was sure you wouldn’t come back.

But here you were, standing before him, uncertain and anxious, and he found himself wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms and comfort you. But he kept his distance, not wanting to invade your personal space. You weren’t his any longer. He could not touch you the way he used to.

You took a moment to pull yourself together, taking a deep breath, counting to ten, trying to ground yourself. Then, you fixed your posture, and nodded in Bob’s direction. “Alright. I think…I think I’m okay. We can, um, we can leave if you’re ready.”

“Okay. Let’s go then.” He opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into that old truck once again, just as you had six years ago.

Everything had come full circle.

Bobby rounded the truck and settled into the driver’s seat, and soon, he’d started the engine, pulling away from the curb, turning onto the road that led up to camp. Your gut churned with anxiety. You were really doing this. There was no turning back now.

The radio played softly as Bob drove. Some old country song. Hank Williams, you thought. Its grainy, peaceful tune did well to calm your anxiety. Your hands had stopped trembling.

“It’s been a while,” the man beside you murmured. His accent seemed to have gotten thicker, a slight twang to it.

“I know,” you replied, staring down at your lap. Then, “God, I’m so sorry, Bobby. I shouldn’t have gone no contact like I did. I got the letters you sent. And I got every message you left on my answering machine. But I just…I couldn’t bring myself to respond.”

He shook his head. “No, I get it. I should’ve given you more space. I know everything that happened was a lot for you.”

“But that’s no excuse for me to just ignore you. It wasn’t right of me. I’m really sorry.”

“Apology accepted. It’s in the past, Kit. We can leave it there.”

It was that easy. A soothing sense of relief washed over you, warming you from head to toe. That exchange made you feel a little more at ease, and the conversation soon shifted.

“Did everyone come back this year?”

He nodded, humming lowly. “Most of ‘em, surprisingly. Bradley, Natasha, Mickey, Reuben, Javy. Half got here last night. The rest came earlier this mornin’.”

You hesitated, picking at a jagged nail on your right hand. “And…Jake?”

Bob was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, him too.”

You recoiled in confusion. “But…why would he come back?”

“Penny didn’t say it in her letter, but they’re doing a dedication ceremony for Melissa. There’s a new garden area they installed in the main part of camp. It’s gonna be called Melissa Jo’s Garden. They had a plaque made and everything. Jake agreed to come for the ceremony. I dunno if he’s staying all summer though.”

“Oh.” It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from your lungs. You had not left things on a good note with Jake. He harbored deep resentment toward you for neglecting to watch over your cabin. He blamed you for his sister’s disappearance.

“He seems to be handling everything alright. He might actually be okay with seeing you again.”

But you weren’t so sure. There was that nervousness again, roiling in your gut. Did you have the nerve to face him? And how would he react? You doubted he’d welcome you back with open arms.

You’d soon find out, because just up ahead, the Camp Mitchell sign could be seen. Large, deep green in color, with white lettering. So familiar, yet so foreign all at once.

You couldn’t believe you were back. What if this turned out to be the most foolish decision you’d ever made?

You didn’t have time to consider that, because Bobby was pulling into the common area in no time, and killing the engine. It was time to face the past you’d been running like hell to get away from.

As Bob got out to gather your luggage, you pushed the old, squeaky passenger door open and let your feet land in the soft sand.

The scent of pine and honeysuckle filled your nose. It sent an intense wave of nostalgia through you. So much had changed, and yet nothing had, all at the same time.

The layout was still the same. Clinic. Main office. Mess hall. Common area. But in the middle of the main entrance was a small garden. Stone paths weaved throughout. Spindly bushes, multicolored flowers, and other plants decorated the soil. Right in the middle of the garden was what appeared to be a large stone, covered with a tarp. You assumed the plaque for Melissa was hidden beneath the tarp.

And then, a voice caught your attention. You looked up to find Penny Mitchell approaching you. Blue cotton shorts, accessorized with a belt. A blue and white striped t-shirt tucked into them. A pair of hiking boots were on her feet. Practical, that one was. Always ready for an outdoor excursion at a moment’s notice.

You braced yourself, unsure of how she would behave toward you. She had rightfully held you responsible for Melissa’s disappearance, and you weren’t sure if she’d moved on from that. But, if she’d invited you back, she had to have at least found it in her heart to forgive you. You hoped so, anyway.

“Welcome!” She said, sweeping her arms out in greeting. “I’m glad you could make it!”

“Oh, um, thanks. Me…me too,” you said, unsure of the proper response.

Bobby sidled up beside you. You didn’t feel so alone with him there.

“Did Bob fill you in on everything on the drive up?”

“Kinda, yeah,” came your answer.

Penny nodded. “Once everyone is settled, Pete and I will take you on a tour. We’ve made a lot of changes these last few months.” Then she looked at Bob. “Would you show her to her cabin? We’ll put her in cabin five.”

“Sure thing,” he replied.

“We’ll have a little orientation meeting after dinner. There’s a whole itinerary we have to go over. I put a schedule in your cabin. Any questions?”

Yeah, lots. You stared at her for a moment. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you invite me back? After everything that happened?”

She regarded you silently, her expression neutral. Then, she said, “Because I believe in second chances. Or, rather, my husband does. He wanted to bring all of you back and start with a clean slate. Whether or not you’ve earned that second chance remains to be seen. But I hope you have.” Her words sent a painful ache through your chest. You didn’t blame her for being wary of you, but it still hurt.

As she excused herself, you were once again left alone with Bobby. “Y’alright?” He gently asked, cadence low and comforting.

You processed his words for a moment. “Yeah…yeah. I’m okay.”

“You need a minute?”

“No. Let’s just get my stuff to my cabin.”

With a single nod, he grabbed your suitcase and duffel bag, moving to walk up the hill. You followed closely behind, letting the rush of memories ebb through you. The cabins were small, build from dark wood, with green paint detailing the shutters and doors. They looked like they’d received fresh coats of paint, but otherwise, everything was still the same.

It didn’t take long to reach cabin five. Bob carried your things inside, and you slowly followed, your heart quickening as you stepped through the door. The scent of cedar and pine was familiar and painful all at once.

This wasn’t the cabin you’d been in when you were here last. You were in cabin two then, just one over from this one. Even so, it looked so eerily similar that for a moment, you were transported back to the summer of 1980.

Funnily enough, Bob had been the one to show you to your cabin for the first time that year, too.

“You’ve still got ‘em.”

Your eyes flickered to him, and your brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“The bracelets I made you.”

Oh. You looked down, eyeing your wrist, where the two braided jute bracelets remained, from when he’d made them for you that year. Dyed faintly with berry juice. Fraying at the edges, but still intact. “Um, yeah…I do. Guess I just could never bring myself to take them off.”

He stepped forward, reaching his hand out. You let him gingerly take your wrist into his palm. His fingers brushed against the braided rope, and his touch sent goosebumps across your skin. “After all these years,” he whispered, afraid that if he spoke any louder, his voice would fail him.

All at once, you were floored with an intense wave of emotion, so powerful it nearly drove you to your knees. It hit you out of nowhere, like a gut punch. “Bobby,” you whimpered.

Shocking blue flickered to meet your wide-eyed gaze, and his face crumpled, bottom lip quivering. “Kit.”

You weren’t sure who moved first, but you were in each other’s arms then, holding on tightly, as if the other would float away if you loosened your grip. The sound of soft sobs reached your ears, and you realized that they were coming from you.

“I never should have walked away from you. Never, ever!” You cried against his chest. “I’m sorry!”

“No, shhh,” he soothed, cradling your head against him. “Don’t do this to yourself. It’s okay, you’re forgiven.”

You pulled back to look at him, shaking your head. “It’s not okay!”

Two large hands came up to hold your face. “It hurt me, alright? I’ll admit that. Broke my heart in two. But I never held it against you, because…because I knew everything you’d been through. I know that summer was the worst time of your life. It made sense to me if you didn’t want to speak to me ever again. I would’ve just been a reminder of everything that happened.”

“But I did want to talk to you, Bobby. I did. I just couldn’t get past the goddamn trauma.”

He shook his head, his face kind. “I know. But we’re here now, together. That’s gotta count for something.” Maybe we’ve been given a second chance, he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to move too fast. He was well aware that your romance might never be rekindled. However, he was content to just remain friends with you if it meant that you would be in his life again.

You went quiet, letting your head fall against his chest again. You couldn’t believe you were here, standing in the middle of a cabin at the place where you had lost everything. It felt so surreal. It was as if a million years had passed since you saw him here last, and yet, it also felt like no time had passed at all.

There was so much that needed to be discussed. But there was no hurry. For now, you were just relieved to know that you had not burned a bridge with your first great love. If nothing else went right for you this summer, he was the one good thing that would come out of it.

“I’m glad…I’m glad it was you who picked me up at the station,” you admitted.

Bobby smiled softly. “So am I.” He searched your face, as if memorizing it. “I really thought I wouldn’t ever see you again.”

You hummed in agreement. “Me too. But I guess fate wanted us to meet again.”

“She’s a tricky one, that Fate.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Finally, he parted from you, though the absence of his body made yours feel cold. He didn’t want to overstep. “Well…I guess I’ll let you get settled.” He moved toward the door, but your voice gave him pause.

“Actually, wait for me. I don’t want to face everyone alone. I’d prefer it if we walked together.” Bobby might be the only person in this damn place to accept you again. You wanted to cling to that, and the security it provided.

He gave a single nod. “Alright. You want any help getting settled, then?”

Together, you set about getting everything situated. Bob went around and checked the cabin for spiders, because he knew you weren’t a fan of the little (and sometimes big) guys. He found one, which he very gently coaxed into his hand (murmuring “c’mon, little buddy” as he did) and released it outside.

Once you had your stuff organized, and did a quick clean sweep of the cabin, you were ready to join everyone else. There was a paper posted on the wall just beside the door, detailing the itinerary for counselors and other camp staff. In about fifteen minutes, dinner would be served in the mess hall.

Directly following that, there would be an orientation meeting in the meeting hall, a place where staff meetings usually took place. Assemblies with the campers were also held there. It ws in that hall that you would be forced to face people from your past. Namely, you’d have to face Jake again.

The thought made your stomach churn, and your hands tremble. But then, Bob’s gentle presence brought you back to the presence, and your racing heart calmed down a little.

He offered you a kind smile. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod.

Together, you walked out of that cabin and into the camp grounds, falling into silence as your steps synced up. There were so many things Bobby wanted to say, but he didn’t want to inundate you with questions and confessions, so he left it. He knew you had to be terribly overwhelmed as it was. He didn’t want to be the cause of more stress.

So, silence it was, all the way until you got to the mess hall. He stopped to open the door for you, and you hesitated.

“It’s okay,” he assured you. “I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

You liked the sound of that.

So, with a deep breath and squared shoulders, you stepped through that door, entering the room. Dark wood stretched out before you. The mess hall was a similar design to the cabins, just much bigger. High ceilings with unfinished wooden beams. Wooden floors and walls. Dark green paint detailing. Windows on each wall to let in natural light. A large stone fireplace in the middle of the room.

It was very cozy, but as your gaze shifted to the table of faces to your left, you felt a chill run over you. Here goes nothing.

You appraoched the table, taking in each person seated there. At the head of the table was Pete Mitchell, Penny’s husband. He lifted his head and offered a smile, but you couldn’t quite place the look in his eyes. Beside him, Penny glanced up at you.

Then, to her right, you saw Natasha Trace. Another person you had once had a connection with. She was good friends with Bobby before you met him. The two of them had gone to school, and eventually college, together. Beside her was a woman you’d never seen before, but judging by the way Natasha held her hand, you inferred that they were in a relationship. It was no surprise to you. Nat had always made it clear that she only had eyes for women.

Then, on the other side of the woman was Mickey Garcia, another one of Bob’s good friends. His best friend, in fact. Mickey offered you a smile, and you took that as acceptance of you. He always had been rooting for you, all those summers ago.

Beside Mickey was Javy Machado. You couldn’t get a read on him. His face bore a neutral expression as he regarded you. Back then, he’d been best friends with Jake, and had therefore been completely on his side. You assumed the sentiment was still the same.

Then, of course, there was Bradley Bradshaw. He was Pete and Penny’s surrogate son, in a way. After Bradley’s mother died when he was a teenager, Pete had brought him on to learn how to run the camp. One day, he would take charge of the place, after the husband and wife duo retired.

All of them were seated around that table, but you noticed that one was missing. You had no idea where Jake was. Maybe he wasn’t joining everyone for dinner. Maybe he’d left. A part of you hoped so.

“Wanna sit here?” Bobby asked, motioning to two seats next to Bradley.

You nodded, and he pulled out your chair for you. Once you were seated, he took his own seat beside you, between Bradley and you. The other man leaned over the table, and you got a look at his face for the first time in six years. He’d lost his baby face, and was now sporting a defined jaw. A neatly kept mustache shadowed his upper lip. You thought it suited him. “Good to see you again,” he said.

Bradley’s statement seemed to break the ice, and a few murmurs of greeting echoed around the table. Even still, an air of awkwardness hovered over the group. You wanted to crawl out of your own skin. But you were here now, and there was no turning back.

The food was set up around the table like a regular family dinner. Simple foods. Sandwiches. Veggies and dip. Chips. You grabbed a sandwich, but you found your stomach in knots, and the thought of eating anything nauseated you.

“Well, Penny, you did it. Got us all to come back. Good on you,” Natasha spoke up.

Penny shrugged. “Pete and I have been talking about it for a while. I know the way things ended back in ‘80 was…bad, to say the least. But we really feel that this place has potential, and we could breathe new life into it.”

“What do the Seresins think about that?” Javy asked, his brow raised.

“We think it’s an okay idea,” a voice spoke up from across the room.

The group looked up all at once to see the man stepping through the door. You tensed, taking in a breath. Your heart rate picked up, thudding against your chest as the chill of anxiety crawled along your spine.

“Really?” Natasha piped up.

Jake nodded as he approached the group. “Yeah. Seeing as how Penny wants to dedicate this place to Missy. We all remember how much she loved it here. I firmly believe she’d want it to keep going.”

Penny smiled. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, Jake.”

He stopped at the empty end of the table, hands coming up to rest upon the back of the chair there. “But I do have one question.”

“What’s that?” The woman asked.

Jake smiled, but you could tell is wasn’t a real smile. In fact, when you looked at his eyes, the pale green was filled with snake’s venom. “What the fuck is she doing here?” He jabbed his finger in your direction, and you froze, your eyes growing wide.

That was more like the reaction you’d been expecting.

Penny faltered, her smile fading. Beside you, you felt Bob stiffen. But you didn’t dare pull your eyes away from Jake’s accusatory glare.

“I-I just thought that–”

“I don’t care. Look, Penny; I really appreciate you putting this all together, but in what world did you think it was okay to invite the person who had a hand in my sister’s disappearance?”

“She isn’t the one who wanted to invite her. I am.” Pete stood from his seat, his eyes narrow. “I thought that she deserved a second chance. And I wanted you to find it in yourself to allow her that chance.”

“Oh, really? What, is she gonna bring my sister back? Hm?” Jake’s gaze was so cold. You wished the ground would swallow you up. How on earth could you have thought this was a good idea?

“No, but–”

“If she stays, I’m refusing the dedication. She’s the reason I lost Missy. She doesn’t get to just stand there and pretend she’s sorry, while my parents and I are still grieving.”

Your eyes had blurred with tears, and your chest was tight. You should never have come.

But then, “leave ‘er alone, Jake.” Bobby stood up, facing the other man.

“Oh, you coming to her rescue is rich, Baby on Board. Wasn’t it your dick she was sucking when my kid sister went missing?”

The room went dead silent.

Bob took a breath. Then two. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. She’s here, whether you like it or not. And she deserves another chance, just as much as anybody.”

“No, you know what? You’re right. This was a mistake. I should never have come,” you spoke up, rising from your chair.

But Bobby grabbed your arm. “No. Don’t let him drive you away.” His eyes were pleading.

You pulled away from his grasp, sadly shaking your head.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Then you turned to Jake. “I wish I could bring your sister back. But I can’t. You need to know that I cared about her. And I should have been more thorough when I did bed check that night. I regret it every day, and I’ve lived with that guilt for the last six years. But my guilt is nothing compared to the loss you and your parents have had to endure. And for that, I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll leave, if that’s what you’d prefer. I never should have come in the first place.”

With that, you ducked your head, pushing your chair out of the way as you scrambled toward the exit. You could hear Bob calling your name, but you ignored him, your legs carrying you quickly toward the door. Your vision had tunneled, and your chest was heavy. You had to get out of that building. You felt like you were suffocating. Like someone had pulled a plastic bag over your face.

You threw your arms out in front of you and shoved the door open, letting out a great heaving sob as you stumbled down the front steps. You made it a few feet from the stairs before you leaned forward, hands braced on your knees as you fell apart.

“Oh, God!” You cried. You heard footsteps quickly approaching. It made you whirl around. “Just leave me the fuck alone!” Came your wail.

“No! I don’t care what he says, you deserve to be here!”

It was Bob, you realized.

“What do you want me to do, then?! He doesn’t want me here, Bob! And I never should’ve come. So just…just pull the truck around and I’ll get my luggage and get the fuck out of here.”

“No.”

“Either you take me back to the station, or I’ll get someone else to do it!”

“No other buses are running until tomorrow morning, so you can’t leave anyway! You’re stuck here for the night.”

“Goddammit!” You yelled. “I just want to leave!”

He grabbed you by the shoulders. “You’re not listening to me! I can’t handle watching you walk away from me again. I lost you once, and I’ll be damned if I let Jake Seresin be the reason I lose you again!”

And then, silence.

“Oh.”

He released your shoulders suddenly, his face stricken. “I-I’m sorry. I’m coming on way too strong. This is probably super overwhelming for you and I’m just making it worse.”

“No. No, you…you aren’t.” A pause. And then, “I don’t want to walk away from you again, either.”

“If you want to leave, then I’ll take you to the station tomorrow morning. But I just want you to try and stay. I know Jake doesn’t want you here, but I’m sure Pete can convince him to at least give you a chance.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

However, back inside the mess hall, a discussion was happening. “I’m sorry, Jake. I know we should have told you we invited her back. I take full responsibility for that oversight. But your parents…they knew she was coming. We checked with them beforehand. Your mom is of the belief that we should give her another chance.”

“What?” Jake asked, incredulous.

“Yeah. So, I know it’s hard for you, but if your mom is willing to forgive, then I’m going to respect that, and give this girl a chance. You know she’s lived with this guilt for so long. I think that’s punishment enough.”

The blonde sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. If it was up to me, she’d be on the next Greyhound outta here. But if my mom wants her here…” He looked out the window, eyeing you and Bob as you spoke to each other. “It boggles my damn mind, but I’ll respect my mom’s wishes. That doesn’t mean I forgive her, though. I don’t think I ever will. But you go ahead and keep her on staff. Something tells me it ain’t gonna end well, but what do I know?”

And with that, Jake stalked off in a huff.

He swung the screen door open, and your head shot up, your eyes widening as you saw him coming down the steps. Bobby took a protective step toward you.

“You can stay,” Jake said as he walked past. “But only because my mom is the one who wanted you here.” Then he leaned in close. Well, as close as Bob would allow him to get. “But just know this. If you fuck up in any way, shape, or form, I’ll ship you back home myself. We clear?”

“Y-yes,” you responded with a curt nod.

“Good.”

And with that, Jake Seresin walked away.

You let out an unsteady breath, your shoulders slumping. Bobby looked at you, his gaze questioning. “What are you gonna do?”

You shook your head. “I…I don’t…”

“You don’t need to decide now. Just sleep on it. Make your decision with a fresh mind, alright?”

“Yeah,” came your whispered reply. “Yeah, that’s–that’s what I’ll do.”

He took his baseball cap off, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot for you. Do ya wanna just turn in early? I’m sure they’d understand if you skipped orientation.”

You considered his words, and finally, you shook your head. “No. I’ll, uh, I’ll try to go, and see how I do. But I think I’m going to just go and lay down for a while until then.”

“Want me to walk you back?”

“I’d like that.”

With a soft smile and a nod, Bobby began to guide you back toward the cabins. Your hands were shaking, and your head was spinning. It felt like someone had shoved their hands into your chest and taken hold of your lungs, squeezing them with all their might.

It was a painfully uncomfortable feeling, and you hoped that it would pass soon. But as long as you were here, in this place that held so many memories, it would probably remain a permanent fixture in your body. The only thing that soothed it was Bobby’s presence.

Even after all these years, and after the sour note you’d left him on, being near him still felt so comforting and peaceful. It was an odd, but welcome, sensation. You hadn’t expected it to be this way. When you thought of seeing him again, you imagined it would be painfully awkward, or that maybe he would refuse to speak to you.

But this was Robert Floyd you were talking about. He didn’t hold grudges. And if he did, then he’d been deeply hurt beyond repair. It was a relief to know that things were not beyond mending between you. At the moment, you were too overwhelmed and emotional to even consider what it might mean for you in the future. You were just grateful that he was near you again.

So much had changed. When you’d left him, he’d been more gangly. Twenty-two years old. Large wireframes perched atop his nose. All round cheeks and softer features. Now, he seemed a little taller. Or maybe, his slight bulk made him appear so. Gone were those gangly limbs, replaced with muscle that had been defined by physical labor.

His hands, though. His hands had stayed the same. They’d always been big, but he’d grown into them. They suited him now. Strong and steady. Farmer’s hands.

“You want me to come get you when it’s time for orientation?” The low cadence of his voice jarred you from your daydream.

“If you would? I forgot to pack my battery alarm clock, so have no way of keeping time.”

He nodded. “Sure. I can get ya one of those clocks. I actually have two, you can have one of mine.”

“You sure?”

“Yep, I don’t need two anyway. I’ll bring it to you later tonight.”

You shot him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Together, you stopped just outside your cabin, lingering at the foot of the stairs. Bob’s face was gentle, his eyes kind. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. I know it’s a for you lot to be back here. And Jake didn’t help anythin’ by reacting the way he did. But if no one else is happy to see you, I want you to know that I am. I’ll respect whatever decision you make, but I really do hope you’ll stay.”

You considered his words, mulling them over in your mind. He didn’t expect you to decide at that very moment, and you knew your brain was too overworked to make that decision then as it was. So, the best you could do was nod your head. “I’ll see you in a bit, Bobby.”

He hummed, mouth quirking into a smile. “See you in a bit, Kit.”

You watched him walk away, his footsteps sure, his stance confident. He had a swagger to him that he didn’t have six years ago. It suited him well.

With a soft sigh, you finally turned and made your way into the cabin. As soon as the screen slammed behind you, you surged forward, collapsing into your bed, which was right near the door. Immediately, you buried your face in the pillow, and everything you’d been keeping inside came spilling out of you in bitter waves.

What had you gotten yourself into?

to be continued...

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@withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @ryebecca @up-thereinthesky @oldfangirl30 @attapullman @sebsxphia @delopsia @damrlova @fairyheart @hangmanapologist @laracrofted @callsignspark @bobfloydsbabe @milesmillergf @bradshawsbitch @bradshawsbaby @floydsmuse @senawashere @creatchie8

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd smut #bob floyd angst #story: six summers

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luffyvace · 22 days

Text

Dating ~ Sanji Vinsmoke ~ headcanons pt2

Pt2 of my Dating ~ Sanji Vinsmoke ~ headcanons

(cuz I ran out of characters 😭) it’s the post before this but I’ll link here: Dating ~ Sanji Vinsmoke ~ headcanons

⚠️(whole cake spoiler but you can read over it)⚠️

Dating Sanji Includes respect.

this man respects you more than he respect nearly everyone. And I mean it! Your up there with Zeff! And that’s the man that saved his life!!

Dating Sanji includes boundaries.

Going into what I just said Sanji respects you, which means he respects your boundaries! Now he finds you very alluring so he might push them but he won’t EVER cross them! Especially since that dude is on cloud simp 😭🤦‍♀️

Dating Sanji includes forgiveness.

Tying into that Sanji might push your boundaries..so forgiveness with him is essential! Hopefully your not stubborn! 💓

⚠️(whole cake spoiler)⚠️

you’ll also need to forgive him for leaving the crew at whole cake- and for almost MARRYING someone else- despite the fact that he always proclaims his love for you and says he wants to marry you. 😐

Dating Sanji includes comprising.

As said, this guy is pushy! So compromising can help strengthen your bond! “Dearest darlinggg~ could we take a bath together??~” *nose bleed*

it’s simply much to early for this sort of thing and you know Sanji’s a pervert 😵‍💫

”how about you prepare me a bath and make me some food while I’m in it? I’m really craving some (fav food :3) right now :)”

”right awayyyyy my scenic beloved~ you know I love doing anything for youuu~ especially cooking~ 😍🧑‍🍳”

compromise :)

by the way when i say Sanji is pushy I don’t mean it in the overly annoying way I mean it in the negotiation way, like that thing where you go:

‘50 dollars!’ ‘20!’ ‘30!’ ‘35!’ ‘Deal!’ 🤝

Like that type you know? He wouldn’t never actually cross your boundaries….it’s more like (harmless) loopholes ☝️🤓

Dating Sanji includes loyalty

very very very very very very obvious.

this man wouldn’t trade you for the world, and take that in because I mean that literally. Now if ykyk but whole cake was to protect you!! If it’s to protect you Sanji will find a way to minimize the damages instead.

anyhow- on a lighter note, you undoubtedly believe he will be faithful to you because you know it’s true and for that your grateful.

he’s always thinking about you 24/7- he doesn’t even have time to think about himself sometimes!! (He needs to)

Dating Sanji Includes active listening

top notch listener! As I said in part 1 he loves your voice so he could listen to you all day

he never gets bored or tunes out and you can tell! He consistently asks questions and maintains eye contact even if he’s doing something! :) it makes you feel so loved and heard 💗

Dating Sanji includes affection

only if you want it tho!! He has all love languages really (😭) but has no problem adapting to yours! So if this isn’t your forte, not to worry! He will never force this on you!

that’s talking about physical affection tho.

And there are many different types!…For the record- you get them all. 😊 he will emphasize on whatever’s your favorite to ensure maximum comfort <3

but this is where the communication from part 1 comes in!! You’ve gotta tell him what you like dear!! He’s not a mind reader 😃

Dating Sanji includes support

definitely this!!

he’s one of those guys who goes broke to support your dreams! (Remember the time Sanji almost sold Luffy out to the marines to buy Nami some PAPER?? Yeah..that’s you now)

everything is yours at the drop of the hat! Supplies?! He’s on it! (If you sell something) low sales?! He’s putting on one of those goofy mascots and twirling the sign around :) Karen Kustomer? Call security! (It’s Sanji- could you guess?!)

Dating Sanji Includes patience

this goes both ways truly..if your a bit more hot headed then you’ll definitely need this when it comes to him. He isn’t a idiot he just argues with Zoro too much…and Simps a lot too.. 👍

as for you I mean this in the sense that he already has plenty of it for youuuu!

he never gets angry at you for any reason.

I stand on that.

no matter how many of your shenanigans him and the crew have to go through, or how much chaos you’ve caused he’ll defend you to the end of it

”Oi! Why’d you have to go and do that?!”

”SHADDUP SHABBY SWORDSMAN!! my picturesque partner~ HAS DONE NOTHING WRONG!!”

😆

- You

(after causing chaos)

Dating Sanji Includes acceptance

self explanatory :3 he accepts you no matter who, how, where, what you are and he loves you through and through. From the highest point of your hair to the bottom of your feet 🤓😱

all that jazz~ 💖👌

Happy b day Sanji!! I’m totally not late for this!

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 16 days

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AITA for pretending to be poor?

I was taught by my parents how to be smart with money, how to budget, what a credit score is etc. I have always been frugal. Always go for things on sale, use coupons, have always went to thrift stores, and just generally try not to spend a lot of money frivolously. I dont use a credit card unless i know i can afford it and i pay it off in full each month. To me, this is just being smart and savvy with money and was how I was raised.

I met someone at university and we now live together. We date for about 3 years. I pay for some dates they pay for others. They've talked about getting me a ring.

Well I had been looking at my budget when they came home. One of my bank statements had fallen to the floor and they picked it up. They saw i had about 50k in my savings account and flipped out.

Anytime we had discussed finances I never gave an exact amount that i owned. It just wasnt that big of a deal to me. If i love someone i love you whether you have 5$ or 500$ to your name, yeah it may be harder at times but id rather be poor and happy rhen rich and miserable. My partner had brought up getting a prenup.

They accused me of pretending to be poor because I used coupons and wore clothes that had holes in them around the house(no I just have a favorite shirt that I've owned for years and is the perfect texture and softness and I cant find another like it), that i was lying by withholding my expenses. That even though i told them i made less then them (they know the exact amount, I make 30 something an hour and they make exactly 15.50 more then me in their field) that i had more in the bank. They claim that I have broken their trust and that I need to prove that I care. Not sure how as they won't tell me how, just that I need to prove it.

They accused me of being an asshole and pretending to be poor and letting them spend a ton of money on a ring and get in more debt when I could have helped them out. I told them I never wanted them to spend a lot of money or be in debt, and that I tried to explain why they shouldn't make just the minimum payments on their credit card. That I had offered to help them budget before and was told I was overstepping. I'd buy my own damn ring but now I dont even know how to feel because they keep berating me and saying I'm a liar and that I'm pretending to be poor and "what else are you hiding" AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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chaosgremlinmunson · 3 months

Text

STWG prompt: “I couldn't lose you”

For @hitlikehammers happy birthday sweetheart!!

Steve was running around the fair like a chicken with its head cut off, the kids were following him yelling at the top of their lungs. They'd all only turned their backs for a minute, where had Eddie disappeared to? Was this another UD thing?

Steve came screeching to a halt when he caught sight of Eddie standing in front of a sale booth of jewelry and trinkets fiddling with a sunshine yellow gem necklace.

“Edward Maurice Munson!” Steve bellowed, Eddie jumped in the air, his hand clutched to his chest necklace still in his grip, “Just what the hell do you think you're doing wandering off. We were worried sick!”

Eddie's face broke into a wild grin before leaning up into Steve's space.

“Aww, did you miss me, Big Boy?” He twirled a curl in one of his fingers, the attendant behind him was smiling though seemed a bit annoyed still, oh, right, Eddie hadn't paid.

“How much?” Steve nodded to the necklace Eddie still had in his hand.

“Well, he said it's for his maiden fair, so I'll bring the price down from $30 to $10, that way he can get his beloved more trinkets. Sounds fair?” The merchant leaned against the stall.

Eddie whirled to them handing over the cash and picked up a matching bracelet, plus two cross earrings. “How about $30 for all of these things then, my maiden fair would love them, don't you agree” Eddie let his dimples pop out, he leaned onto the counter.

The man standing behind the stall blushed a furious red, “Yes, that sounds reasonable. How lucky they are to have such a devoted lover.”

Eddie smiled at the man as he packaged the items and skipped back to Steve and the kids.

“Oy, Eddie, I thought Steve was your boyfriend. Why are you buying jewelry for a maiden?” Mike sneered from behind Dustin.

“Oh, mini Wheeler, who's to say Stevie boy isn't my damsel.” Eddie grinned.

“If I recall, I was the one who carried you out of hell, not the other way around, princess.” Steve leaned in to lower his voice beside Eddie's ear.

“Y-yeah? Well, uh, well.” Eddie stumbled over his words and thrust the bag into Steve's hand.

“I couldn't lose you Eds,” he whispered, still right by his ear, “you're everything.”

Eddie's eyes were wide and he swallowed visibly. He was in so much trouble, he bagged someone who could melt him with little words and touches, and here he'd been ready to romance his Sunshine only to be thwarted by that honey dripped tongue.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #fanfiction #stwgdailyprompt #flustered eddie munson #harrington charm

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artandshid · 1 year

Text

“What’s this, some goody goods for the debate club?” you look up to see your best friend, Eddie, stopping by the bake sale table to take a look at all the treats you and Nancy spent all yesterday afternoon making.

“Yes they are goody goods and they’re not meant to be touched unless you’re planning on buying them.” you tell him sternly while he picks up a neatly wrapped brownie.

He holds his hand up in surrender, “I’m sorry sweetheart, how much for the pack of the two cookies?”

“One dollar.”

His eyes go wide and his eyebrows shoot up, “A whole dollar?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes Eddie a dollar, 50 cents per cookie. It’s a great deal they were made with love. And if you can’t finish two you can share them with a special lady.” You wiggle your eyebrows jokingly at him.

He sighs and starts digging in his pocket for change. He pulls out a few dimes and some nickels and starts counting the change on the table.

“Eddie there’s a line behind you hurry up.” You say with a laugh.

He takes a look behind him, “I’m so sorry everyone, this will only take a few more minutes.”

The people behind him in line rolls their eyes and groan, while Eddie just laughs. “30 cents, 35 cents, 36 cents, oh there’s a dime…”

You stifle your laugh and tell Eddie to move over so you can take the other customers.

The line shortens up very quickly and just as the last customer walks away you hear, “….and one whole dollar, I will take the lovers cookies now.”

You laugh at him, “Thank you it’s about time.”

He grabs the chair that was previously being used by Nancy and takes a seat next to you.

“Yeah I was about to start a riot there huh?” He laughs out loud and opens his pack of cookies.

“Y/n, these smell spectacular.” He takes a dramatic sniff and groans.

He takes one out of the pack and puts it in his mouth and then hands the other to you.

“Oh so I’m your special little lady?” you say jokingly.

He puts his arm around your shoulders and says, with a mouth full of cookie, “you’re the specialist little lady.”

just a short little bestfriend!eddie blurb because I have not written in forever omg.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x you #best friend! eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson request #eddie munson smut

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heeracha · 1 year

Text

## end of the line. — p. jongseong

synopsis: thinking it was a hotline for people who just need someone to talk to, jay calls. but why did a clueless student answer? with jay’s phone call has a time limit, you, the clueless student, insists on staying with him until the end of the line.

pairing: jay x f!reader

content/genre: college au (wow shocking), slowburn, fluff, angst and crack, smau.

warning(s): swearing, mental health deteriorating, lonely thoughts, i'll put it on every chap if there's anything you need to look out for.

note: hahaha im horrible, yes, delaying wob again, im so sorry. i just,,,,, idk lets say this is self-indulgent bcs fuCK its obvious im not doing too well for the past months lmAO AHHSDH,,, anyway,, yep. hope u enjoy whatever the fuck this is T_T. TAGLIST CLOSED. remember my bullshit last night about this not being as angsty as ymtm? yeah i take it back, i have the alt ending written already. HA.

tags: r.asks: eotl, eotl updates, eotl thoughts, eotl spoilers

profiles. / profiles 2.0

ep 1. — the one with the moving in (pilot).

ep 2. — the one with mommy looking for a daddy.

ep 3. — the one with too much workloads.

ep 4. — the one with donald duck.

ep 5. — the one with the hotline.

ep 6. — the one with the ppg leader, blooming.

ep 7. — the one with the style note.

ep 8. — the one with y/n's 15 minute-bf.

ep 9. — the one with reunited by peaches & herb.

ep 10. — the one with sulley and boo.

ep 11. — the one with the ghosting.

ep 12. — the one with the ghosting 2.0.

ep 13. — the one with three am bbq.

ep 14. — the one with bubs coming back.

ep 15. — the one with the cat naming.

ep 16. — the one with the lukewarm coffee.

ep 17. — the one with jay cooking his sadness away.

ep 18. — the one with the giggly simp in sunoo's dorm.

ep 19. — the one with the cream puffs request.

ep 20. — the one with jay's sweater.

ep 21. — the one after the bake sale.

ep 22. — the one with the three boxes.

ep 23. — the one where jay (almost) won.

ep 24. — the one with the backup plan.

ep 25. — the one with the rude girl and the guy with no manners.

ep 26. — the one with the sad face.

ep 27. — the one with the "you too" replies.

ep 28. — the one with the "i fell first, they never did" trope.

ep 29. — the one with jay can't because he's busy.

ep 30. — the one with sunoo blocking jay in his priv.

ep 31. — the one with sunoo leaving the group.

ep 32. — the one with jake throwing a shoe at jay.

ep 33. — the one with bubs' messages.

ep 34. — the one with bubs and honey catching up.

ep 35. — the one with jay trying to talk to y/n.

ep 36. — the one with jay's way of confessing.

ep 37. — the one with jay being so close (for the millionth time).

ep 38. — the one where honey called bubs by her real name.

ep 39. — the one with ur mom vibes.

ep 40. — the one with y/n crying for the hundredth time.

ep 41. — the one where minho gets a headache.

ep 42. — the one with sunoo becoming a caregiver.

ep 43. – the one with the letter.

ep 44. — the one with sunghoon being a drama queen.

ep 45. — the one with the matching icons.

ep 46. — the one during y/n's sad hours.

ep 47. — the one where jay doesn't care about y/n.

ep 48. — the one where jeongin spoils y/n.

ep 49. — the one where they decide they either fix it or have closure.

ep 50. — the one where everything's okay.

ep 51. — the one where minho will airfry jay and y/n.

ep 52. — the one with the ending, but not the end of the line.

alternative ending. — the one with y/n staying with jay even after the line ended.

#pls work or i will cry #Hiraya-M #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen socmed au #enhypen smau #enhypen soft hours #jay imagines #jay reactions #jay fluff #jay scenarios #jay x reader #jay smau #jay social media au #jongseong imagines

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phoenixyfriend · 1 month

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Ko-Fi prompt from Isabelo:

Hi! I'm new to the workforce and now that I have some money I'm worried it's losing its value to inflation just sitting in my bank. I wanted to ask if you have ideas on how to counteract inflation, maybe through investing?

I've been putting this off for a long time because...

I am not a finance person. I am not an investments person. I actually kinda turned and ran from that whole sector of the business world, at first because I didn't understand it, and then once I did understand it, because I disagreed with much of it on a fundamental level.

But... I can describe some factors and options, and hope to get you started.

I AM NOT LEGALLY QUALIFIED TO GIVE FINANCIAL ADVICE. THIS IS NOT FINANCIAL ADVICE.

What is inflation, and what impacts it?

Inflation is the rate at which money loses value over time. It's the reason something that cost 50 cents in the 1840s costs $50 now.

A lot of things do impact inflation, like housing costs and wage increases and supply chains, but the big one that is relevant here is federal interest rates. The short version: if you borrow money from the government, you have to pay it back. The higher the interest rates on those loans, the lower inflation is. This is for... a lot of reasons that are complicated. The reason I bring it up is less so:

The government offers investments:

So yeah, the feds can impact inflation, but they also offer investment opportunities. There are three common types available to the average person: Bonds, Bills, and Notes. I'll link to an article on Investopedia again, but the summary is as follows: You buy a bill, bond, or note from the government. You have loaned them money, as if you are the bank. Then, they give it back, with interest.

Treasury Bills: shortest timeframe (four weeks to a year), and lowest return on investment. You buy it at a discount (let's say $475), and then the government returns the "full value" that the bond is, nominally (let's say $500). You don't earn twice-yearly interest, but you did earn $25 on the basis of Loaning The Government Some Cash.

Treasury Notes: 2-10 year timeframe. Very popular, very stable. Banks watch it to see how they should plan the interest rates for mortgages and other large loans. Also pretty high liquidity, which means you can sell it to someone else if you suddenly need the cash before your ten-year waiting period is up. You get interest payments twice a year.

Treasury Bonds: 20-30 years. This is like... the inverse of a house mortgage. It takes forever, but it does have the highest yield. You get interest payments twice a year.

Why invest money into the US Treasury department, whether through the above or a different government paper? (Savings bonds aren't on sold the set schedule that treasury bonds are, but they only come in 30-year terms.)

It is very, very low risk. It is pretty much the lowest risk investment a person can make, at least in the US. (I'm afraid I don't know if you're American, but if you're not, your country probably has something similar.)

Interest rates do change, often in reaction or in relation to inflation. If your primary concern is inflation, not getting a high return on investment, I would look into government papers as a way to ensure your money is not losing value on you.

This is the website that tells you the government's own data for current yield and sales, etc. You can find a schedule for upcoming auctions, as well.

High-yield bank accounts:

Savings accounts can come with a pretty unremarkable but steady return on investment; you just need to make sure you find one that suits you. Some of the higher-yield accounts require a minimum balance or a yearly fee... but if you've got a good enough chunk of cash to start with, that might be worth it for you.

They are almost as reliable as government bonds, and are insured by the government up to $250,000. Right now, they come with a lower ROI than most bonds/bills/notes (federal interest rates are pretty high at the moment, to combat inflation). Unlike government papers, though, you can deposit and withdraw money from a savings account pretty much any time.

Certificates of Deposit:

Okay, imagine you are loaning money to your bank, with the fixed term of "I will get this money back with interest, but only in ten years when the contract is up" like the Treasury Notes.

That's what this is.

Also, Investopedia updates near-daily with the highest rates of the moment, which is pretty cool.

Property:

Honestly, if you're coming to me for advice, you almost definitely cannot afford to treat real estate as an investment thing. You would be going to an actual financial professional. As such... IDK, people definitely do it, and it's a standby for a reason, but it's not... you don't want to be a victim of the housing bubble, you know? And me giving advice would probably make you one. So. Talk to a professional if this is the route you want to take.

Retirement accounts:

Pension accounts are a kind of savings account. You've heard of a 401(k)? It's that. Basically, you put your money in a savings account with a company that specializes in pensions, and they invest it in a variety of different fields and markets (you can generally choose some of this) in order to ensure that the money grows enough that you can hopefully retire on it in fifty years. The ROI is usually higher than inflation.

These kinds of accounts have a higher potential for returns than bonds or treasury notes, buuuuut they're less reliable and more sensitive to market fluctuations.

However, your employer may pay into it, matching your contribution. If they agree to match up to 4%, and you pay 4% of your paycheck into an pension fund, then they will pay that same amount and you are functionally getting 8% of your paycheck put into retirement while only paying for half of it yourself.

Mutual Funds:

I've definitely linked this article before, but the short version is:

An investment company buys 100 shares of stock: 10 shares each in 10 different "general" companies. You, who cannot afford a share of each of these companies, buy 1 singular share of that investment company. That share is then treated as one-tenth of a share of each of those 10 "general" companies. You are one of 100 people who has each bought "one stock" that is actually one tenth of ten different stocks.

Most retirement funds are actually a form of mutual fund that includes employer contributions.

Pros: It's more stable than investing directly in the stock market, because you can diversify without having to pay the full price of a share in each company you invest in.

Cons: The investment company does get a cut, and they are... often not great influences on the economy at large. Mutual funds are technically supposed to be more regulated than hedge funds (which are, you know, often venture capital/private equity), but a lot of mutual funds like insurance companies and pension funds will invest a portion of their own money into hedge funds, which is... technically their job. But, you know, capitalism.

Directly investing in the stock market:

Follow people who actually know what they're doing and are not Evil Finance Bros who only care about the bottom line. I haven't watched more than a few videos yet, but The Financial Diet has had good energy on this topic from what I've seen so far, and I enjoy the very general trends I hear about on Morning Brew.

That said, we are not talking about speculative capital gains. We are talking about making sure inflation doesn't screw with you.

DIVIDENDS are profit that the company shares to investors every quarter. Did the company make $2 billion after paying its mortgages, employees, energy bill, etc? Great, that $2 billion will be shared out among the hundreds of thousands of stocks. You'll probably only get a few cents back per stock (e.g. Walmart has been trading at $50-$60 for the past six months, and their dividends have been 57 cents and then 20.75 cents), but it adds up... sort of. The Walmart example is listed as having dividends that are lower than inflation, so you're actually losing money. It's part of why people rely on capital gains so much, rather than dividends, when it comes to building wealth.

Blue Chip Stocks: These are old, stable companies that you can expect to return on your investment at a steady rate. You probably aren't going to see your share jump from $5 to $50 in a year, but you also probably won't see it do the reverse. You will most likely get reliable, if not amazing, dividends.

Preferred Stocks: These are stock shares that have more reliable dividends, but no voting rights. Since you are, presumably, not a billionaire that can theoretically gain a controlling share, I can't imagine the voting rights in a given company are all that important anyway.

Anyway, hope this much-delayed Intro To Investing was, if not worth the wait, at least, a bit longer than you expected.

Hey! You got interest on the word count! It's topical! Ish.

#economics #capitalism #phoenix talks #ko fi #ko fi prompts #research #business #investment #finance #treasury bonds #savings bonds #certificate of deposit #united states treasury #stocks #stock market #mutual funds #pension funds

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niftukkun · 10 months

Text

New from RECAP Weekly!!! An Exclusive Interview from Hermitopia's Emperor?!?

for the third week of @shepscapades ’s hermitcraft character design event, i offer grian as an empires smp member!

ok so first off, that head. thats just p03 from inscryption. but grian. it fits! but also! go play inscryption go go its on sale Right Now (until june 30) go play it its so good then go watch this video afterwards join my fandom please please please join us

ok back to hermpires! so i originally was gonna take an empire from s2 and just insert grian into it, but while browsing through the esmp s2 wiki i came across/remembered hermitopia and my brain went yep! this one. so i thought a bit about what grian would do if he was an empires smp member and how hermitopia would happen, and i think grian would crash the economy on purpose. i mean it almost already happened when the hermitpires crossover happened so i dont think im too far off. i think grian originally exported something simple, like maybe sugarcanes or mud, something easy to farm yknow, but then i dunno got bored or something so he made a couple more farms. then kept making more farms. then the hermitopia we all know and love happened!

actually maybe hermitopia isnt grians first empire. i think grian has a separate empire but decided to invite his friends to help him make some farms and then it just kept going. then hermitopia happened. i like the collaboration aspect of hermitopia so i think thats how that happens. hermitopia isnt necessarily grian's but its under his command so it gets called his. (isnt there a word for this? was it vassalage? i think its vassalage)

with that in mind i went with a robot-y grian because grumbot and a snazzy cool suit because business man (sidenote im looking over my pre art notes and one of them is just capitalism man and. yeah! not wrong). i gave him more steampunk-y wings than the usual feathery ones cause that fit better. i gave him a crown not really sure why but it fits since without it the design was more Just A Guy but with it he's more Emperor yknow. the buttons have a g on it because he would and an (attempted) gold trim cause that looked nice and fancy. originally he was gonna have four wings cause fun fact four wings is part of my base grian design but four wings kind of crowded the drawing so i didnt include them (sad) and i also didnt include the tail hes supposed to have because i couldnt find a good way to add it in with the pose. but in my heart he has both four wings and a tail

now why magazine style artwork? i 'unno. i thought itd look cool. and it does!! it looks SO cool!!! im so proud of it. recap magazine!! because of course im gonna make a hermitcraft recap reference are you kidding me recap is practically already a magazine reporting what gossip is happening on the hermitcraft server on any given week. its very specifically volume 9 issue 34 because thats when the crossover happened season 9 week 34 babey we love little esoteric details hell yeah!! i looked up how magazine covers work and its supposed to be like, main article big and smaller supporting side articles just kinda floating around so i did that!! and i made them funney references because of course i did! local bard catches scurvy because you cannot convince me that oli orionsound would not catch scurvy he would. does god is gay is a reference to that does bruno mars is gay nonsense article that makes me laugh everytime specifically in reference about mr smallish bean because he. has so many children. and none of them as far as i know from the lady server members theyre all lovechilds from gay lovers its hysterical and hilarious. quit your job join our sun cult is about the dawn empire because thatse the vibe that empire gives me and i think its funny. also!! thats hermitopia!! in the background!! i got the image off of the empires smp wiki and just Biggen'd it and it makes a bomb ass background hell yeah ^-^!!

also version with no text here lookit it!!

#gamble the queue #reblog #art #my art #digital art #artists on tumblr #drawing #fan art #fanart #hermitcraft #grian hermitcraft #hermitcraft recap #empires smp #hermitcraft empires crossover #fake magazine cover #shepshermitdesign23

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gutghost · 3 months

Text

[Hot Single yanderes near you! (PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEAS-)]

Part 0

Gn reader

To be completely honest, you had not really been expecting to have your phone call picked up when you called the number under the ridiculous "Hot single yanderes near you!" Ad, but here you were. It all started out when you were scrolling on illegal movie sights, trying to find that one movie that just came out that you wanted to see, but were too lazy and too poor to go and watch it in theaters, when a shady ad popped up, at first, you thought it was one of those 'horny milfs wanna F!!!!!#!#@' ads, but on close inspection it didn't really seem all that similar, there were guys. Extremely cute guys. All different from one another.

Half sleep deprived you decided to click on the link, which led you to an entire page on the damn thing. It took you an hour to figure out what to do and when you finally did you had to fill out big ass forms that left you tired as hell. But you weren't gonna just go through all this and not call for an appointment, so that's how you got here, matted hair and big eyebags under your eyes. Your phone, half dead pressed to your ear as you hear the crackle of the phone being picked up.

"Hello, this is Veni, with the company LoveR, how may I help you?"

The persons voice on the other end was crisp, professional, and honestly sounded like a sales guy trying to sell you a shit car. Sputtering for a moment, you'd respond.

"O-oh yeah, I was calling about the hot single uhm...yanderes near you ad?"

Now that you actually said it out loud it sounded completely ridiculous, and you half expected the guy on the other end to laugh. But he was calm, albeit abit too enthusiastic about the topic at hand.

"Oh yes! Have you filled out all the consent forms? We want to make sure you have a...comfortable time with our rentals."

From there on the conversation went...surprisingly normal, you had to give them your card information but hey who said this was gonna be completely safe? It's yanderes after all. You had a consultation on Monday and had to be there at 1:30 sharp. Everything felt abnormally normal, to the point you half expected to show up to a random ass abandoned building to get mugged.

So...

Why was this big ass skyscraper looking thing – with the company name the guy on the phone mentioned, no less – standing infront of you?? You couldn't help but feel astonished, mouth open as you stumbled to try and find the right words to comprehend what you were staring at. You probably looked so stupid standing there with your mouth wide open like a fish out of water but really, how could you not? You had looked up the company name, and you didn't find much...so why did this large ass building not come up on any of the pictures, websites, anything?

Finally, after figuring you and your thoughts out you rushed inside, admiring the sleek architecture as you shyly made your way to the front desk. For a moment you wanted to run away, hide – but you didn't. Instead, you begrudgingly approached the guy at the front desk, holding onto upur bag with a tight fist. With as much confidence as you could muster you spoke up.

"Hello, I was supposed to have an appointment at 1:30...M-my name is (Y/N) (L/N) if that helps?"

The man at the counter would look up, and for a moment you wanted to piss yourself. He was incredibly good looking, his cheek bones defined, his skin tan and his hair a deep black that almost looked abit red if you looked at it at a certain angle. His smile was the kicker though, you were sure he could charm anyone with how kind that smile was.

"Ah, (L/N)! Yes your appointment will be on the 12th floor, there's another lobby there that handles the entirety of LoveRs...more...peculiar sessions."

Why was that omnious...no seriously, why was that so ominous??? Quick to try and not let that uneasy feeling creep too far into your gut you'd quickly nod and give a smile of your own,

"O-oh thank youuuu...."

You'd trail off, glancing over to see the name tag on the desk. Trying hard not to sound like a completely dunce pronouncing his name.

"Kabir, Thank- uh, thank you."

Jeez, if you could die, you would not even wait for a response as you fumbled to run off to catch the elevator, face feeling hot as you bit at your inner cheek.

The elevator went up at a leisure pace as you tried to calm yourself, your heartbeat being able to be felt through 0ractically your vains. What you didn't expect was to actually get everyth8ng settled both mentally and physically in that damn elevator. It was taking so long to rise to the top... Jesus. how big was this building again? Whatever the case, the metallic doors finally opened, revealing a lobby area, much like the one downstairs. The color scheme was relatively the same, black and pink sofas that look insanely stiff with throw pillows sitting across from each other infront of large windows that went through the entierty of the wall, revealing a blue sky with fluffy clouds. Which, wouldve been beautifulif it werent for tge rest of the sky scrapers. Rugs that seemed smashed in due to how many times people had walked on them framed the two couches as you stepped out, the elevator quick to descend.

Turning your attention away from the little sitting area you'd haul ass towards, go figure, another front desk. This time, a lady sat in the front. Her curly hair fell over her shoulders like harsh waves as she glanced up from her computer, quick to stop whatever she was doing. Her lips formed a professional smile as she spoke, her voice sending pleasant goosebumps on your skin. jeez - was everybody here hot??

"Hello ma'am/sir. How may I help you?"

This time you were ready to answer, inhaling softly before opening your mouth.

"The man from the front desk downstairs sent me up here for my meeting at 1:30? My name is (Y/N) (L/N),"

Recognition sat itself on her face as she typed away at her computer before standing up, grabbing a weird looking black folder as she did so. Her heels clicking across the tile floor as she made her way around the desk and in front of you. Her smile not at all faltering as she turned to gesture towards a rather intimidating hallway.

"Ah yes, right this way Miss/sir (L/N)."

#x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #oc x reader #yancore #yandere series #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #gn reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader

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billthedrake · 1 year

Text

THE SALES GUY

Business travel is OK, until it's not.

Thunderstorms back east had cancelled one flight and seriously delayed another. Even with the time difference, it was almost 9 when we landed in Denver. At least Carson and I had status and were upgraded to business class. We were the first off the plane, rolling our business carry ons behind us through the airport, making our way toward the rental car area.

Carson Wells is one of the sales guys in our group. The dude's young, about 30, but he's good at his job and moreover has a crazy ambition. It's why he was paired with me on a prospect this big.

I'll be honest, I used to hate the folks in Sales. I felt like we did the work, and they cashed in their commission checks. And Carson was the very type who annoyed the crap out of me. Fratty, capable only of small talk, nice almost to the point of seeming fake. But times like this I was grateful I was paired with him: the guy didn't get stressed out about travel hiccups.

"I love Denver, man," he said in a tone that would sound chipper if it weren't such a masculine bro kind of voice. "Shame we don't have the time to go hiking or anything while we're out here."

For some reason, I was in the mood for Wells' small talk. "You into outdoor sports? I pictured you as more a country club guy," I teased.

"That too," Carson said as he flashed his smile. Pearly white teeth, fucking perfectly formed dimples, well trimmed blondish-brown beard. Yeah, one reason my defenses were down was because Carson Wells was stunningly cute and stunningly hot.

Down boy, I thought to myself. It's not like my dick was chubbing or anything, but I knew how to be a professional at work, and with colleagues. Even ones as hot as Carson. Besides, the dude was grade-A hetero.

Carson had reserved the car and we strutted right over to pick up the key. Of course, Carson went for an upgraded model. I thought of lecturing him about costs, but figured I'd let his manager deal with that headache. Besides, if we reeled this big fish in, no one would give a fuck how much Carson ran up on his business credit card this trip.

We were both tired from the long day and once we checked into the hotel it was time to go to our respective rooms and call it a night.

If you've seen one Marriott you've seen them all. At least this one had a good view of the mountains, though it would be morning before I'd have time to appreciate it. For now, I undressed and brushed my teeth and slipped into bed. I didn't even have my daily masturbation time, I was so tired.

***

The presentation the next day went well. Really well. Carson brought the dynamic sales pitch, and I brought the gravitas. Of course we didn't know what they'd decide yet, but you sometimes get a vibe from a prospect, and that vibe was positive.

Carson was getting it too. We stopped at a trendy restaurant near our hotel that was half steak house, half small plate kind of place. Carson joked it was the kind of place he'd take chicks to if he wanted to impress them. Honestly, I didn't care where we ate. I don't eat a lot on the day of a sales call, and now my appetite was catching up with me.

"I think this calls for the good stuff," Carson announced as he strutted up to the bar, me a couple paces behind. God, he was so sexy in that post-pitch mode, his 5'11" body filling out his trim-cut tailored suit just right, and those thick thighs leading up to an amazing ass...

"Best bourbon you have," he asked the bartender. Then, he flashed those dimples as he turned to me. "Oh I forgot, you gay guys don't drink bourbon, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "It sounds like you're scripting the next HR compliance video, Wells."

He chuckled. "Is that a yes or no, Boss?" I technically wasn't his boss, but I was an officer and somehow Boss had become his playful nickname for me.

"Sure," I said, adding that the prospect was ultimately gonna pay for this round.

"Damn straight," Carson grinned, his green eyes twinkling.

We sat the bar, sipping some pretty damn amazing whiskey. Carson had his legs spread, effortlessly manspreading. I didn't stare or scope him out or anything, but let's say I enjoyed the view.

Our conversation was all business as our food arrived, and even as we ordered another drink.

"Maybe grab another back at the hotel bar?" he asked as we nearly finished that round. It was getting dark out but still wasn't too late. "I'm in the mood to celebrate."

I nodded, signalling for the check. "Sounds good. Only we haven't won the client yet."

"We're gonna win 'em, Bill. You know it, too."

I shrugged. "Yeah," I conceded.

Carson laughed. "Didn't think you'd be so superstitious."

I nudged my leg against his. Hopefully more a buddy nudge than a flirty one, but the booze was loosening me up. "I'm surprised you're not, Wells."

We paid up and made our way back to the boring bar at our boring hotel. It felt great to unwind there. I knew Carson was eager to have more than one other drink, and I wouldn't mind getting a little tight myself. It had been a tough week.

"You're buying this time, Boss," he said. "Just don't order me some well-liquor shit."

I was tempted to get him a cheap domestic beer, just for being a smart ass, but ended up splurging on another top-shelf bourbon.

"Here's to the Dream Team," he toasted as we clinked our glasses. We were just about the only ones in the bar area, seated on one of the couches.

"You did great, man," I said.

He smiled again. Fuck, those pearly whites. "Man, that's probably the first time you've ever thrown me a compliment."

"No it isn't..." I objected. Now that I was in a managerial role, I knew it was my job to provide positive feedback to everyone on my team.

"For real," he said, with a smile that said he wasn't too upset. Or maybe Carson was just being his frat-boy nice. "You're kind of intense, Boss."

"Oh," I said. Not sure what to make of it. Though Carson wasn't the first person with that opinion of me.

He nodded. "I'm gonna say something that's not HR-approved... but you've mellowed out a lot since you broke up with Rob."

Rob was my ex-husband. I still couldn't tell if it ended amicably or bitterly. But it had been a big shift in my life. "It was a divorce," I corrected Carson.

"Yeah, divorce. Sorry. I know that was an asshole thing to say. It's just, well, you seem happier now. I hope you are, Bill."

Something about his sincerity, combined with the booze, had me opening up unexpectedly. "There's good and bad," I replied in a measured way. "But the freedom is nicer than I expected."

Carson nudged my knee with his, in what I would have guessed was a flirtation, and gave ne a "you dog" kind of look. "I bet," he smirked. Then he got an impish look on his cute face. "Maybe I shouldn't admit this to you, man, but I sometimes have fun with guys."

I gulped. This was major HR-inappropriate territory. "Is that right?" I asked with my best poker face.

The man nodded. The sexual part of my brain was just thinking how incredibly fuckable my coworker was. His voice made him even hotter, I thought. "Not the whole nine yards like you gay guys, but yeah..."

"How do you know what I do in bed?" I had to tease.

He laughed and shrugeed. Again, flashing that killer smile. "You got me there, Boss. Guess I shouldn't make assumptions." We paused and, fuck, our eyes met, like really met. I wasn't imagining it: Carson Wells was fucking flirting with me. "Can I trust you with this, man?" he asked.

I gave some motion of my hand that was some combo of crossing my heart and scout's honor.

He bit his lip nervously, playfully, and then lowered his voice to almost a whisper. "Um, yeah, I'm into sucking a guy's dick." He blushed as he said it, but I had to be impressed by how forthright he was. It was the last thing I expected from Carson's mouth. His nervousness carried him on. "I mean, just the feel of a hard cock in my mouth.... it's wild, kind of a taboo you know for a guy like me."

"I can imagine," I said. Not wanting to either encourage or discourage Carson. My dick was getting rock hard in my suit. And there was no way it was going down soon.

"Yeah," Carson beamed, glad I wasn't judging him or giving him any flak for his bi streak. "I mean it's crazy, I don't even need my dick sucked or anything, just that act is enough to get me going, you know?"

I nodded but replied. "Not exactly, Carson. I guess I'm more a receiving is better than giving kind of guy," I joked.

"Did Rob do that for you?" he asked.

This was definitely inappropriate conversation. But fuck it. "That and more," I replied. "Rob was a big ol' bottom."

"Hot," Carson said. There was something weird about our dynamic now. Buddy-buddy, but also like lusty. Carson took a sip of bourbon, but he was nearing the bottom of his glass. "Another round, Boss?"

I held mine up and swirled the last half centimeter of brown liquid in the rocks glass. "I shouldn't, man." I was already pretty buzzed.

"Come on," he urged. "We're the fucking Dream Team."

I caved and nodded. If my boner was riding a good ridge in my trousers it downright throbbed watching Carson's hot suited body get up and strut over to the bar. I needed to find some self control, in case Wells was actually gonna proposition me. Maybe he just wanted someone to talk to about his bi side. Or maybe he liked teasing me as an ego boost.

He was all smiles when he came back with two more drinks. We clinked glasses and had our first sips. "To a killer day," he smirked.

"Yep," I said. I wasn't drunk at least. But I was starting to feel really nice.

He looked around. I thought he was just idly checking out our environment, but I realized he was seeing if the coast was clear. His eyes flitted back to my crotch.

"You look like you're packing a lot down there, Boss," he said. That sexual edge somehow changing his frat-bro voice.

"Sorry," I muttered. Trying to cross my legs.

"Don't hide it, man," he urged. "No one can see it from a distance, not in those pants."

I blushed as I spread my legs again, manspreading as I faced this hunky sales guy. This was so wild and wrong, but my dick was rock hard.

"Nice boner, Boss," he smirked.

"Thanks," I said. Maybe I thought if I limited my words there'd be less cause to get me fired.

"How big is it?" he asked.

"How big?" I chuckled. Wells was the last dude I imagined to be asking me for my dick size. "7 and a half," I replied. "I've not measured the width."

"It's pretty thick," Carson put out there, his eyes back on my boner. "But not too fat to suck."

"Jesus," I exhaled.

Carson's green eyes twinkled. "Am I getting you worked up, Boss?" Jesus, he loved flirting all right.

"You know you are, damnit."

"This is just between us, right?" he clarified.

"It better be," I hissed. "Not how I expected this trip to go..."

"You upset?" he felt me out.

"Depends on if I'm thinking with my brain or my dick," I answered honestly.

That made Carson smile. "How bout your dick?"

"My dick wants to get sucked," I said bluntly.

Carson nodded, almost serious, maybe the reality was making him less chipper. "Let's do this, Bill," he grunted and tossed back of the liquor, like he was building up courage.

I didn't do mine like a frat boy shot, but sipped a good amount of the remainder and set the glass down before standing up, just hoping my erection wasn't too obvious.

I couldn't believe this was actually gonna happen. Carson didn't seem to believe it either. We rode the elevator silently, almost scared to look at one another. Then he followed me to my room.

My heart pounded, because I didn't know how this was actually going to go down. I didn't want anything messy with my coworker - hell, I'd probably be the senior investment guy brought in for half of Wells's prospects - but it was probably too late for that.

I tried to think of how this would go down. For a half minute, a part deep in my brain wanted to put a stop to this. But as I walked to where our rooms were, adjacent to one another, I stopped at mine and Carson looked at me with a look of horny expectation behind his straight-bro smile. I tapped the key card and ushered him inside.

The thing that helped my conscience somehow was that Wells didn't kiss me or make any move to make out with me. Like he'd had some practice he crouched in front of me, looking incredible in his slim-cut suit and gym-toned build, wasting no time reaching forward ot unbuckle my nelt. This wasn't gonna be a messy office place romance, this was just going to be a blowjob. As no-strings as they get.

"Fuck!" I hissed as the zipper came down and Carson tugged my boxer briefs below my hard prick. My dick jerked to attention, harder than I recall it ever being. This felt naughty and sexual in a way that half made me glad to be a divorced man.

"You sold yourself short, Boss," Carson teased as he ran his finger up and down my bone. "You got an amazing cock."

And like that, the sales guy was taking me into his mouth.

This wasn't Carson's first dick. It wasn't his fifth. The dude wasn't lying, he loved sucking cock, and it was clear he'd had some practice. I just stood there, hands on my hips and let him do his stuff. I got off on the mind-fuck of co-worker sex and the straight-dude fantasy come to life. I mean, Carson Wells clearly wasn't 100% straight but he was as close as I'd get to having a hetero guy blow me.

And the fact he loved this, really loved this, meant I was getting quality head. Regular, half-suction mouth strokes up and down about four or five inches of my cock, with increasing base.

"It's not gonna take me long," I warned him. If it hadn't been for the bourbon I would have nutted already. Wells was that good.

He was going for it now, kind of twisting the base of my cock with his fist as he bobbed more frantically. I placed my hand on the top of his skull, and that got an excited, deep moan from the guy. I started small thrusts timed with his sucking. Nothing too intense, I'm not an asshole. But I was getting real close, and my excitement was pushing me over that finish line.

"Oh shit! Oh fuck!" I hissed, trying not to be too loud. My cum was incredible. Maybe because Carson did this sucking thing all through my ejaculation that just added to the pleasure. My knees buckled a little.

I was finally was spent, and Carson gave one final lick at the tip before pulling back. "That was hot, Boss," he hissed, mouth full of cum and saliva.

"Damn... it was, man." I looked down. "Need me to get you off?" Once I cum I'm usually out of sex mode. But I know how to take care of a guy's needs.

He shook his head as he stood up. For real, Carson had a hardon riding up his suit pants. Not as big as mine but showing a good tent. "Nah, I'm good... I'm gonna go back to my room now, if that's OK."

It wasn't awkward as it seemed for some reason. Maybe because my swimmers were in Carson's belly now. "Yeah, that's fine... if you're sure." I felt a little guilty for the no-recip thing. But not too guilty, I suppose.

He flashed a grin. "Yeah, I'm sure. See ya bright and early tomorrow?"

"Yeah," I nodded, tucking back in and pulling up my trousers. "Have a good night, Wells. And thanks again." I was tipsy but maybe sobering up some now.

"My pleasure, Boss," he said. He paused and looked at me, and God I half expected a kiss to come right then. But he patted my arm and then walked past to the door. And left me in my room.

"Fuck!" I growled, and had to laugh at how crazy it was I just let that happen. I knew I'd made a terrible mistake, but Carson seemed game to make it with me. And I knew if I had that chance, I'd make it again.

#drakestories

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safety-pin-punk · 11 months

Text

Steps To Take Before You Donate:

A guide from someone who works at a thrift store and has seen some things. This is generalized and not specific to the store I work at.

The first step for ALL of these sections is to look at what you have. Is it something you would give to a friend or relative? No? Then don’t donate it. (Examples of things not to donate: moldy clothes, a soiled pair of pants, sticky dishes, broken mirror)

Clothes and Linens (aka soft lines)

Look to see if your clothes are wet, moldy, or have bodily fluids on them. These types of items will end up at the landfill if you donate them. Just save employees the horror and throw away your own garbage

Don’t donate used underwear or socks, but bras are fine

If the clothes are dirty, wash them (please)

If you want to be super helpful to processors, separate halloween costumes and shoes into different bags or boxes. These items all get processed separately in stores

Donate it even if its ‘poor quality’. Clothing not sold in stores gets sent to textile recyclers

All of this applies to linens (such as blankets and sheets) as well

Electronics

If you have any large items, call the store ahead of time to make sure they are willing to take it. Not all stores have big warehouses for large items. If not, try a different store or chain

Check for any chewed on, or exposed wire. Thrift stores can’t sell these items for safety purposes

If you don’t have a wire or charger for the electronic, ensure that it will stay with the item (tape or rubber bands will work well for this) if an item can’t be tested in store to see if it works, it will not be sold in a typical retail store. It will likely be sent straight to an outlet store

If you are planning on donating a TV (small or big) call the store first, some are able to take them and some are not. Check with them first so they don’t have to turn you away after you get there

If the computer doesn’t work completely, donate it anyway, most thrift stores send them to get refurbished and their memory wiped

Books/Media

Do your books have mold on them or are the pages damp? Don’t donate them

Are the disks so scratched up that they don’t play? Don’t donate them

Stores do accept VHS tapes and cassettes!

If you are donating a bunch of loose disks without cases, keep them together in a bag or a box

If you only have a case for a game (NOT DVD), donate it! People actually buy those

Separate your books and media from other items you are donating, as these get processed separately

Shoes (usually sorted into hard lines but may vary depending on the chain)

If your shoes have bodily fluids on them, or even just some left over dog poop, either clean them or don’t donate them. No one wants to touch that

Even if your shoes have been worn to hell and back (and are not gross), donate them! Just like clothes, if they aren’t sold, most stores will recycle them

Do your best to keep pairs together! Either in a box, tie the laces together, or use a rubber band!

(We do actually love getting shoes donated in their boxes - it makes it a lot easier to sort than a giant garbage bag full of loose shoes)

If you aren’t sure what category shoes fall into at the store you are donating to, just ask! We would much rather that than find shoes in unexpected places!

Furniture

Does it require repairs? Don’t donate it, try a local yard sale site instead

Is it big? Call ahead and make sure the store has space for it

Not every store accepts mattresses/beds/bed frames. Call ahead and ask

If you have a rug, has an animal gone to the bathroom on it? Yeah? Don’t donate that

Side note: if you just bought a big piece of furniture from a thrift store, bring some buddies to help you pick it up. And a big enough vehicle. Our donation door workers are still people and can only do so much to move a giant glass table and fit it into your kia soul when you decide to pick it up 30 minutes before we close

Other Items (aka hard lines)

If a baby is meant to sit or lay in the item, we can’t sell that for safety reasons, even if its brand new

Some stores will sell helmets if they are in good condition, but not all stores. Double check before you drop them off

If you are donating dish ware or china, make sure it is washed and clean. No one wants to touch sticky mixing bowls with a mysterious substance inside

Wrap your dishes or any fragile items and place them in boxes, it helps make sure they dont break before they get processed

If its broken, don’t donate it. Think: is this something I would give a friend?

Put your jewelry together and separate from other items. That way we dont only find one earing

No already lit or used candles that are more than halfway gone, find ways to up cycle them, or see if a friend would like them instead!

No one wants your used bedroom toys. Please no. Im begging you just throw them away if you dont want them

If there are nails sticking out of it, or someone could get hurt on it, wrap it and write a note. Same goes for knives. I can’t even begin to express how many times I’ve almost cut off a finger while reaching into a box of donations

Other Tips

If its sticky, wipe it down

If its fragile, put it in a box not a bag

If its sharp, wrap it

If its multiple pieces, tape it or find a way to keep it all together before you donate it

If you aren’t sure if a store will take it, just call and ask!

#the thrift store #donation guide #guide #donations #okay here is my morning project I guess #punk 101

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storiesforallfandoms · 2 years

Text

the secret spoil ~ karl jacobs

word count: 2521

request?: yes!

“Perhaps Karl Jabos with a SO who gets bad buyers guilt over everything they buy? Like- they will debate with themselves if they should but a game they want that is on sale or not for almost 20 minutes kind of thing and gets extremely embarrassed about anyone buying them things?”

description: in which karl tells his partner with buyer’s guilt that they’re going to be a part of a new mrbeast video, but the truth is he’s going to buy them everything they want

pairing: karl jacobs x gender neutral!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

(the request kind of sounded like it was supposed to be a gn!reader, but if it wasn’t please let me know!)

Every MrBeast video had a twist. You had been dating Karl and hanging around with him and the MrBeast crew long enough to have that figured out. So, when Jimmy asked you to be in one of his videos, you didn’t fully trust him when he told you the premise.

“There’s nothing suspicious about this at all,” Jimmy insisted. “We’re going to a Target and we’re going to tape a circle to the floor, and whatever you can put in there, I’ll buy for you. We’ve done this type of video so many times before.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “Yeah, I heard you. I just feel like there’s something you’re hiding from me until the end. I don’t trust you, Jimmy Beast.”

He put a hand over his heart in mock offence. “You wound me, (Y/N).”

Karl put his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder. “Come on, babe. It’ll be your first big appearance on the channel, and you get a bunch of free stuff. What’s the downside here?”

You gave him and Jimmy a skeptical look, but eventually agreed to do the video. You couldn't lie that the thought of having Jimmy, who was basically drowning in endless money, buying you whatever you wanted did sound like an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.

You rarely bought things for yourself unless they were necessities. You struggled with buyers guilt big time when it came to treating yourself. If it was something over $20 you wouldn’t buy it, and even then you’d feel guilty for getting it. Maybe, by participating in this challenge, you’d finally be able to treat yourself without the guilt.

Until you got to the Target where they were filming and saw the size of the circle.

“This is massive!” you exclaimed. “I can’t put anything in that, it’ll cost you a fortune!”

“If you don’t want to utilize the circle, I will!” Chandler jumped in.

“No, you’ve gotten so much in the past. (Y/N) has never gotten anything in one of these videos,” Jimmy said. To you he added, “Don’t worry about costs. That’s the point of the video. Just grab whatever you want and try to fit it in the circle.”

You glanced at the massive circle again. There was so much you could put in there. For once, Jimmy hadn’t even restricted you to one section of the Target. When you arrived, he gave you, Karl, and Nolan permission to grab carts to fill with whatever you wanted and you’d have to try and fit it in the circle. The possibilities were truly endless.

You sighed. There was no backing out of it now, so you asked Jimmy, “What’s the time limit?”

“We’ll say 30 minutes,” he responded. “That gives you time to get around the store at the very least.”

“Enough talk, let’s shop!” Karl proclaimed, swinging his cart around and narrowly avoiding hitting a rack with it.

“Okay, your 30 minutes starts...now!”

The three of you took off with your carts. The first stop according to Karl was the electronics department. Karl was already piling his cart with a Nintendo Switch and various games before you even had time to think about what you were going to get.

“Whoa, hold on,” you said.

“What? You’ve been saying how much you want a Switch.”

“I know, but you can’t just throw some games in there, I wanna pick them out.”

“(Y/N), you can get literally every game in this store,” Nolan pointed out. “There’s so much room in that circle.”

“I’ll just throw a bunch in the cart and if there’s any that you really do not like, you can leave them in the cart,” Karl suggested.

You shrugged. “Okay, fine. You do that, I’m going to pick out some movies and CDs.”

You tossed about ten movies and eleven CDs into your cart after quickly browsing those sections. You made a mental note to come back and look if you had more time. You also decided to toss a couple new phone cases and some new earpods into your cart since you had never had those before.

Next, since it was the closest to where you were, was the clothing section. That one Nolan and Karl agreed to let you go through alone. You weren’t one for clothes shopping since most clothing stores were usually way more expensive than they needed to be; at least, they were to you. You usually waited until you absolutely needed new clothes before going out to buy any, or you’d wait for your birthday or Christmas.

But this was your opportunity not only to get some new clothes, but to get some brand named stuff as well. The stuff that you’d never even look at otherwise. So, you quickly grabbed a few shirts and pants, making outfits as you went along and tossing them into your cart. You also decided to get yourself some new jackets since the ones you currently owned had been through many spring, fall, and winter storms and were starting to get very worn.

You found yourself really enjoying not having to look at the price tags and worry about how much everything you were getting cost. Being able to just run through the store like a bunch of children, grabbing whatever caught your eye first and tossing it in without a second thought. It felt very freeing as opposed to the way you normally felt when shopping.

You were almost disappointed when Jimmy called Karl’s phone to let him know that your 30 minutes was up and you had to return to the circle, but it was probably for the best. All three of your carts were basically completely full and you were almost dreading hearing what the final total was going to be.

You met back up with Jimmy, who began to laugh when he saw your carts. “You really went all out, huh?”

“Honestly, after a while most of it was just grabbing stuff and throwing it into the carts and I’ll sort it out as I put it into the circle,” you admitted.

“Do you think all of this will fit inside the circle?”

You gave Jimmy a look before eyeing the massive red circle made from tape on the floor. “Yeah, I definitely think this is all fitting in the circle.”

You got to work taking the stuff from your cart and placing it around the circle. You started with the Switch games, which you ended up leaving very few in Karl’s cart. Maybe one or two that you weren’t interested in, but for the most part you wanted all of them. You placed the Switch box in the middle of the circle, deciding you’d work around it since it was probably one of the biggest things you had gotten.

Next was the movies and CDs, which you stacked on top of the Switch game boxes, and after that was the numerous books you had gotten from the book section. You had basically gotten one of every book that was there, and a couple extra from the genre you knew your mom liked.

As you started to take out the Funko Pop Dolls and board games you had gotten from the kids section, you grabbed a handful of Pokémon card packs you didn’t remember seeing there before.

“Oh, I got those for me,” Karl said.

“Karl, you’re not supposed to be getting stuff for yourself! This is for (Y/N)!” Jimmy said with a laugh.

“It’s fine, he can have his Pokémon cards,” you said, placing them in the circle. “I just want a Pikachu if you find one.”

“Only if it’s not a Shiny one.”

“Deal.”

By the time you finished unloading the three carts, everything you had only made one layer inside of the circle and you basically threw all the clothes you bought on top of everything, not worrying about whether or not anything would fall out or touch the line of the circle.

Jimmy did a quick inspection to make sure nothing was touching the red line before turning to you. “Is that everything you want to put in there?”

“Well, there’s nothing else I can go get because my time is up, so yeah, I’ll say that’s it.”

“Alright then, let’s take all of this to the cash and get it checked out.”

You nervously bit at your thumbnail as you watched the cashier ring in your stuff. Despite the fact that you weren’t the one spending the money, you could still feel your stomach churning with every beep of the scanner and every increase in the total price that came up on the screen. You felt lightheaded when you saw that the total was a little over $10k.

“That’s not too bad, actually,” Chris told you when he saw your face. “We’ve had people spend way more than that.”

“I’ve bought like a dozen cars before, that’s way more than what you just got,” Jimmy assured you as well.

“It’s just such a high number,” you commented. “I know I’m not the one paying for it, but it feels wrong to have that much stuff. I feel like I should put some stuff back.”

“Do not put anything back, that is not the rules,” Jimmy said.

You sighed and shrugged. “Fine. Fine! Swipe your stupid card before I regret my decision.”

“Actually,” Jimmy said, giving you a slightly guilty look, “it’s isn’t my card you’re swiping.”

You stared at Jimmy, blankly. You wanted to scream “I knew it!”; actually you just wanted to scream period. You knew there was something. You knew there would be a twist. And now you were too far in to back out, and you had the camera on you. There was nothing you could do besides watch Jimmy with wide eyes and your heart hammering against your chest.

When Karl stepped forward, his credit card in hand, you could barley register what was happening. By the time you did, Karl had already inserted the card and was putting his pin into the machine.

“Karl! What the fuck are you doing?!” you said, grabbing his arm but it was already too late. The machine was chiming that his pin had been accepted and the transaction had gone through.

“I have a confession to make,” he said, turning to you. “I actually came up with the idea to ask you to be a part of this video because I wanted to be the one who paid for whatever you picked out to buy instead of Jimmy.”

“But why?!”

“Because you’re always so hard on yourself when it comes to buying things and you never get yourself little treats when you deserve it more than anyone. I knew that you wouldn’t let me just straight up buy you anything, so I asked Jimmy if he’d make it seem like it was him doing it for the video and then I’d pay for it once we got to the check out.”

His smile was so genuine and you knew he was trying to do something nice for you, but you couldn’t help but feel upset. You felt guilty for how much money Karl had just spent on you, stupid for believing that there would be no twist to this video (even if you had been very skeptical of that), and you felt angry that Karl had deceived you like that.

But the camera was rolling and it was pointed directly at the two of you, so you plastered a fake smile on your face and threw your arms around Karl’s neck.

“Thank you, baby,” you said, trying to sound convincingly touched.

“You’re welcome,” he said, giving you a peck on the cheek before you pulled away.

Your stuff was put into a number of bags and brought out to your car. There was so much that it filled the entire trunk and the back seat. Jimmy thanked you for being such a good sport about the twist of the video, to which you just smiled at him and wished for them all to leave so you could go home.

Once the cameras were off and the rest of the crew had left, you were free to express your real emotions, which made for an incredibly quiet car ride home for you and Karl. You were bringing the bags into your apartment and trying to mentally figure out where everything was going to go when Karl spoke.

“You’re upset.”

It wasn’t a question, but you still felt like you had to answer. “No, I’m okay.”

“You haven’t spoken to me since we left the store.”

“I’m a little overwhelmed is all.”

“(Y/N).”

You looked up at him. He put his hands on your face and looked down into your eyes.

“I’m sorry that I made you upset with this,” he said. “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“I know you did, and it was really sweet, but that was way too much money, Karl,” you told him. “If the circle had been smaller and it wasn’t as much stuff and so much money I would’ve reacted differently, but all of you knew that’s what was happening today. So you made the circle that big, you allowed me to fill it with all that stuff, and then you paid so much money. Karl, you’re going to be trying to pay that back for so long!”

“And that’s fine! I don’t care! I want you to have things, I want you to spoil yourself and not feel guilty over it. I want to spoil you and you not feel guilty for it. You deserve these treats, babe. You deserve anything that you want with no worries about money.”

You crossed your arms and tried to pull away, but Karl held tight to your face. You lowered your eyes, but he just crouched down so he could still be in your line of sight. You couldn’t help but giggle at how silly he looked doing that.

“You’re a dork,” you told him.

“But I’m your dork.”

You smiled at him. “Yeah, I guess you are.”

He stood back up and rested his forehead against yours. “So, you’re not mad at me anymore?”

“I’m still a little mad, but I do appreciate that you wanted to do something nice like that for me.”

He leaned down to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

“You do deserve it,” he said.

“Don’t push it,” you teased. You kissed him again and pulled away. “Now, are you gonna help me put away all this stuff we just bought or what?”

“I don’t know. I did pay for it after all, so I think I deserve to sit this one out.”

“Well then, you’re not getting the Pokémon cards, especially not the Shiny Pikachus.”

At this, he quickly grabbed a bag and started pulling everything out of it, putting it all into separate piles to make the organization process easier. You laughed and took another bag, sitting on the floor next to him and following in his lead.

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