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mountttmase · 1 year

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Brave - Part One

Note - bit nervous uploading this one and it’s pretty long so let me know what you think 💙 part two can be found here 😌

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 9.6k

Warnings - mention of controlling relationship, angst, lots and lots of fluff

You were sat in your dining room, dressed up to the nines, waiting for your husband to get home from work. If you were doing this then you were doing it properly, wanting this version of yourself to be his last memory of you.

You slightly adjusted the neck on your tight black midi dress that you’d paired with the highest heels you could find in the back of your wardrobe. You could feel a chill on your left leg as the high slit up the side left you exposed but you ignored it as you loved the way it looked. Both things he didn’t know you owned as he would never approve of.

You looked fit for a funeral but it gave you the confidence boost you needed to get the job done.

He should be home any minute and you were so incredibly nervous about what you were about to do. You’d rehearsed what you wanted to say in your head a million times for months and you don’t know what it was about the last few days that was the final straw.

Your engagement and wedding ring sat together on the table in front of you, feeling free of the weight of them not just physically but also mentally. You chanced a look down at them, gazing at them for one last time before snapping your eyes up and getting back into the right head space. You didn’t need any distractions, wanting nothing to throw you so you could get out what you needed to say without an issue.

Before you could think of anything else, you heard his key in the lock and the door slamming shut moments later. You watched as he entered the room, swinging his bag onto the sofa haphazardly before his eyes locked onto yours.

‘What’s all this?’ He questioned with his brows furrowed. He hasn’t seen you looking like this for a long time and the sight no doubt confused him. Most of your days spent bare faced and only in clothes he approved of bar the rare occasions you had to be seen with him for a business dinner or an event where only perfection would do. ‘Are we supposed to be going somewhere I forgot about? You know I don’t like it when you wear all that guff on your face without a reason’ he scoffed, taking up the seat opposite from you.

‘I’m leaving you’

You spoke quietly but you sounded confident, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. He let out a loud laugh but when he caught sight of your rings on the table he stopped and looked back up.

‘Oh, you’re serious’ he said, the smile on his face returning and it made your skin crawl. ‘Sure thing, babe’ he laughed again before going to stand, but the sound of you standing up from your chair kept him in is seat.

‘I’m serious. Don’t worry, in terms of the divorce I don’t want anything from you and I’ve only taken the things I bought with me.’

‘This is stupid’ he said with a shake of his head, his tone more serious now. ‘I’ll give it a week before you’re crawling back here begging for me back’ he snarled, an angry look on his face but you no longer felt afraid of him. ‘And it’s gonna take a lot more than an I’m sorry to win me back. You forget y/n, I’m all you have. You won’t last out there on your own.’

‘I’d rather have nothing than stay another second here’ you told him calmly, before stepping away from the table, picking up your coat and making your way you the door.

You didn’t turn back for one last look, you didn’t wait for him to convince you stay, you kept your head high, your shoulders back and your hand around the car key in your pocket before stepping out the front door and closing it softly behind you.

Wanting to get out of there as quickly as you could, you ran to the car you borrowed from your best friend that was parked enough spaces down that he didn’t notice, got in and drove away as quickly as you could. You felt the familiar burn of tears behind your eyes but you didn’t allow them to fall. Not just yet you told yourself and you made the 45 minute journey to your best friends house. They had no idea you were coming and you were praying they would accept you with open arms. As much as you hated to admit it, your now ex-husband was right, you really didn’t have many people in your life and he was the one that made sure of that. Isolating you from everyone so you became reliant on him. He knew you’d of left a lot quicker if you were surrounded by people that love you.

You knew your best friend would be in, having made sure to ask them a few days ago what their week looked like. Your ex had no idea the two of you still spoke and you had to save their name in your phone as a cleaning company as to not arouse any suspicion.

Before you knew it you were there, pulling up outside and punching in the code you had memorised. As soon as you were parked, you ran to the front door and pounded on it until it opened and you were met with the big brown eyes of Mason.

‘I did it’ you sobbed, his shocked face now looking confused. ‘I’ve left him’ you managed to choke out before you felt your legs start to buckle under you. Mason was quick to grab you and pull you into him before you fell. In the comfort of his arms is when you allowed yourself to break down. He gently rocked you back and forth as he shushed you and raked his fingers over your scalp.

‘Come on love, let’s get out inside and out the cold, yeah?’ He whispered and you nodded weakly, allowing him to pull you inside. After shutting the door with his hip, he slowly walked you over to his sofa where he sat beside you and pulled you back into him. You sobbed your little heart out whilst he held you as tightly as he could to his body. The only sounds coming from him were his little comments of encouragement, telling you that everything was okay and you were safe now.

And that was the main reason for your tears, more relief than sadness. Yes you were sad your relationship of five years and marriage of three was finally over, yet that was outweighed by the lightness you felt in your chest of never having to see him again and the feel of the strong and safe arms around you now.

You thought you were almost done crying but when Mason told you he was proud of you, you only sobbed harder.

You had known Mason most of your life, growing up together as your houses were opposite and there wasn’t anything you didn’t know about each other.

That was until you started dating Eric and you grew apart. He was a few years older than you and told you it was only natural but as the months went by and more and more people seemed to disappear from your life, until he was all that was left, you wondered if he was right. He convinced you though and told you he was all you needed. He even told you Mason was no good for you, that being around someone with his job could only end in disaster as he’d never have time for you. This was the one thing you never believed so kept your friendship with Mason away from Eric.

He was the perfect gentleman at first, buying you gifts and taking you on trips. You loved being around him as he made you feel like a princess. He told you it was you and him against the world and he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you.

When he proposed you said yes straight away and had a small wedding, just the two of you and some whitenesses. You knew you had hurt Mason by not inviting him as you’d always promised to be there for each other in the big moments. He had called you the day after and the sound of his broken voice made you feel more guilty than you ever had before, but you knew he couldn’t be there. Eric still thought the two of you were no longer in contact.

You hated having to hide Mason from your life, only seeing each other when Eric was at work or on a business trip but Eric really did make you happy.

Well at first he did anyway.

That was until he began telling you how you should wear your hair, how you should dress, where you could and couldn’t go, what you should eat, how you should think. You should have known when he told you to quit your job as he made enough money for the both of you but you did it anyway, not wanting to hurt him. Then three months ago you found out about the multiple other woman he’d been sleeping with since you’d been married. You’d been planning since then to escape, telling Mason you needed to borrow his car for an appointment as Eric would be taking his car to work and since Mason had a few, he was happy to oblige.

That one small kind gesture now meant you were free. Free from a life of being controlled and suppressed by a man who thought he knew what was best for you.

You finally looked up at Mason, furiously blinking your eyes in order to clear the tears from them, and Mason gently wiped under them with his thumbs, smiling at you so widely you though his face might break in half.

‘I mean it y/n I’m so fucking proud of you’ he told you again with a light kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m not gonna pretend like I knew exactly what was happening between the two of you but I never liked him and I think you know that.’ You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at this, nodding your head. ‘He made you not you, and I want you back’ he said with a sad smile.

‘I’m back’ you croaked and kissed your forehead again.

‘I need to ask you something’ he said with a more serious tone and you gulped before he continued. ‘You don’t have to tell me what happed, not if you don’t want to or if you do we can wait until you’re ready to talk but I need to know one thing and I need to you be honest with me okay?’ You just nodded and he took a breath before speaking. ‘Did he ever hurt you? You know like… physically?’

You understood why he asked the question, and it pained you to see the look on his face as he did, but you shook your head quickly to settle his mind. Eric was a lot of things but he’d never laid a hand on you. Mason let out a massive breath and just nodded, feeling better now he knew. You looked down to his top, noticing to two black marks from your mascara staining it and it stupidly tried to wipe it off. ‘Sorry Mase’

‘Don’t be silly, I know how to the use the washing machine now’ he proudly boasted and you shook your head at his silliness.

‘So I kind of need to ask another favour’ you gulped. You knew it would probably be fine with what you were about to ask but you wanted to make sure anyway. He just nodded a waited for you to carry on. ‘I don’t really have anywhere else to go, and it won’t be for long I’ll sort myself out but can I stay with you for a bit?’ He looked back at you like you were asking the most obvious thing in the world before taking your hands in his.

‘Do you even need to ask that?’ He chucked you you tried to hide you face in his sofa cushion. ‘Of course you can stay here, I’ve always told you that.’ And it was true, mason always reassured you that his home was yours if you ever needed it and now you felt stupid for asking. ‘And none of this it won’t be for long crap, you stay here as long as you like. You know I love having you around. In fact I don’t want you out of my sight for the foreseeable.’

‘Thank you’ you whispered and he just squeezed your hands in response.

‘Now what do you say, you grab a quick shower and I’ll order us some dinner and then we have a movie night like we used to when we’re we’re kids?’ He suggested

‘That sounds great, I’ll just go grab my stuff from the car’ you told him whilst standing, but he followed you up and grabbed your arm.

‘Don’t be silly, I can get that’ he told you, helping you out of your coat. You couldn’t help but blush as you noticed his eyes linger over you in your tight dress, forgetting you were dressed up for a night out rather then a comfy evening in, and it took you looking directly at him for him to avert his gaze. ‘Y-you remember where the bathroom is right?’ He stuttered and you smiled at his now awkward demeanour.

‘I remember, Mason’ you said with a slight smile

‘I’ll leave your stuff in the guest room yeah? Take your time there’s towels and everything you need in there’

‘Thank you, Mase’ you whispered. Stepping towards him and kissing his cheek before turning on your heel to walk up his stairs. You knew he hadn’t moved yet, clearly watching you walk up and you were wondering what had come over him all of a sudden but the thought of being under the warm water kept your legs moving.

After a quick shower, making sure to wash off your ruined makeup, you wrapped yourself in one of masons big fluffy towels before making your way to his guest room. You were just about to open the door when it swung open to reveal mason who was obviously just leaving.

‘Shit, sorry’ he laughed, a blush covering his cheeks as he looked at you in your towel. ‘I uh, I just put all your stuff in there. Was that everything?’ He asked pointing back to your one suitcase and lone duffel bag.

‘Yeah that’s it’ you confirmed, and he scrunched his face up up for a second before nodding.

‘Well the food will be here soon, so get ready and I’ll come get you’ he said, moving out the room and plodding back downstairs. You unpacked some pyjamas, a silky shirt and shorts combo that you hadn’t been able to wear yet, but given your new found freedom you thought it was appropriate. You carried on unpacking your things, not that it was much. A few pairs of jeans and leggings plus some tops and a few pairs of shoes. All things you’d bought yourself, leaving anything that was bought with Eric’s money back in his house. After a few minutes there was a knock at the door and Mason popped his head through after you told him to come in.

‘Foods here’ he said quietly. ‘I thought maybe we could eat in my room? Like old times’ he asked you and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he might be nervous.

‘Sounds good, I’ll be in in a sec’ you told him with a smile and he gave you one nod before leaving again.

After popping your underwear in a drawer you made your way over to his room. The lights had been dimmed and you could see he’d lit a candle on the far side of the room. He was sat on his bed, back resting against the headboard and next to him lay two massive pizzas.

‘I’m not sure that’s part of your diet plan Mount’ you told him as you took a seat next to him. He laughed at you and shrugged whilst picking up a slice.

‘I figured it was a special occasion’ he winked and you couldn’t ignore the little flip in your tummy at his gesture. ‘I ordered your favourite’

You looked down to see your favourite pizza and you couldn’t help but smile that he remembered. You hadn’t had it in the longest time and you groaned in satisfaction when you took your first bite, closing your eyes to savour the moment.

Your eyes snapped over to Mason as you hadn’t heard him move and you caught him staring at you with wide eyes and slightly parted lips, but he looked away just as quickly, his eyes focusing on the movie. You were unsure of what to make of all the strange looks he was giving you, figuring he felt a bit sorry for you and was just checking to make sure you were okay, but you both carried on eating in silence. When you’d had enough Mason quickly ran downstairs to put the pizza in the fridge before joining you back in his bed.

It felt weird for you to be sat so far away from him, movie nights used to consist of him laying with his head in your lap or at least your arms being linked however mason sat away from you, no doubt wanting to give you space after a stressful day however that was the last thing you wanted.

‘Masey?’ You asked and he smiled at the use of his nickname you only bought out when you wanted something. ‘Do you maybe think I could have a cuddle?’ You questioned, and his face softened immediately, scooting down the bed and opening up his arms for you to fall in to.

‘You don’t need to ask love’ he whispered into you temple before leaving a light kiss there that warmed your insides. ‘And if you wanna talk about anything then im all ears. And if you don’t then I’m pretty good at talking shit and distracting you’ he joked but you really appreciated it. ‘Whatever you wanna do we can do’

There was lots you wanted to tell him, but unsure of if you were ready for all that just yet you told him something that had been playing on your mind for the last half an hour or so.

‘What if I’m not strong enough?’ You whispered but you knew he’d heard you, tightening his grip ever so slightly.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well I’m fine right now, I think I’m still on a bit of a high, but what about in a few days time when I crash back down to earth? What if I end up running back to him? what if he calls and I’m not strong enough to ignore it?’

‘That could never happen’ he reassured you, stroking up and down your back gently. ‘You’ve got me now, I mean you always have had, but I’m gonna be here for you all the time and we can do this together I promise. You’re not on your own anymore’. You knew he wasn’t done talking, the words on the tip of his tongue so you waited until he was ready. ‘You don’t have to answer if you’re not ready, but why did you stay with him so long if you were so unhappy?’

You gave it a second to think of an answer, but you didn’t exactly have one. It was a whole multitude of things. ‘I guess I just wanted to believe he was still a good person? Like even after everything he’s done I still hoped things would change’

You went on to tell him where it all went wrong, the lying, his controlling nature, the cheating you uncovered towards the end. Mason was silent throughout, letting you talk and unload everything you needed to, but you could tell by the look on his face he was beyond angry.

‘Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was?’ He questioned.

‘I don’t know Mase, I wish I had I’m so sorry’

‘Hey hey, none of this is your fault’ he comforted you, rubbing his hands over you gently. ‘I’m so fucking proud of you, and I’m so glad you came to me. I promise you I won’t let anything bad happen anymore okay you’re safe with me’

‘You promise’ you asked with a smile, holding up your pinkie finger to which he wrapped his own around.

‘I promise. No one goes near my girl without my say so’

‘Your girl?’

‘My girl’ he reiterated, holding you tightly against him.

You closed your eyes at his words, too overcome with emotion to say anything so you just nestled further into his neck and after 15 minutes or so, you could feel yourself getting sleepy. Mason must of felt it too, leaning back slightly to look at you.

‘You want me to take you to your room?’ He whispered but you just shook your head, the need to be with him and feel safe taking over the sensible part of your brain.

‘No, can I stay here with you tonight?’ You asked quietly, and he nodded, settling down more as he held you. ‘Promise you’ll still be here when I wake up?’ You murmured and you felt his body shake and he let out a small laugh.

‘I promise’ he replied before kissing your cheek. ‘Goodnight y/n’

You kissed his collarbone, the only bit of skin of his you could reach with your lips before settling back down again.

‘Night Mase, and thank you’

—————————

True to his word Mason was still there when you woke up the next morning, and the one after that, and the one after that also. In fact you hadn’t spent one night in his guest room, opting to be with him in his bed, reminiscing about the old days until you fell asleep in each others arms.

You were right about one thing though, and as the days went on things got harder and harder and you could feel yourself becoming more broken. But Mason was always there to pick you up and fix you back together, never making you feel like a burden and very slowly you could feel yourself coming back out of your shell. So much so in fact that after three weeks, you were ready to take the next step to being you again.

When Mason came home from training, he found you in the kitchen. He found you in here most days, usually making him dinner but today you were sat at the island, head burrowed into his laptop he said you could borrow. He came over to drop a kiss on your head, just like always, and wrapped his arm around your shoulders to have a nose at what you were doing.

‘Hey love, what’s all this?’

‘I’m looking for a job’ you told him with a smile, looking up into his big brown eyes as he smiled back down at you. You felt him squeeze your shoulders that tiny bit tighter before taking up the stool next to you.

‘You found anything yet?’

‘I’m not sure, I kinda wanna ease myself back in slowly but I’m not sure how to explain why I was out for the last year year and a half’. You mused whilst biting your lip in concentration. The next thing you felt was Masons thumb pulling on your lip, freeing it from in between your teeth, and you both looked at each other with wide eyes and your heart began to race.

This seemed to be happening a lot lately. Maybe it was the fact everything seemed so domestic between you both, sleeping in the same bed, waking up in his arms every morning, making him dinner for when he got home and spending nights cuddling on his sofa as you talked through all your problems, but your feelings for Mason seemed to be shifting.

You knew the ladies loved him, and you’d always thought he was handsome but he was your best friend so feeling about him in any other way wasn’t allowed, but he was making that task increasingly difficult. You caught yourself looking at his lips and wondering what they would feel like on yours or what his hands felt like on other parts of you. It had been so long since someone had touched you in that way and your head was swimming with thoughts of him.

‘Why don’t you say you worked for me?’ He shrugged, defusing the tension a bit.

‘Doing what?’

‘I dunno, whatever fits the job you’re applying for I guess. I promise I’ll give you a glowing reference’ he winked and you smiled at him shyly. ‘Just don’t go rushing into anything, you’ve got time to think about it’

‘I know, but I need to start being a bit more independent Mase, I can’t stay here forever’

‘Why not’ he pouted, your heart racing at the thought of him wanting you around.

‘You don’t want me here all the time, living rent free and cramping your style. What if you wanna bring a date back or something? I don’t wanna be in the way’

‘You could never be in the way’ he assured you with a hand on your shoulder before he walked over to the fridge to get a drink. Not that you had seen Mason with another girl since you moved in, in fact he hadn’t even mentioned one but the thought of seeing him with someone else was enough to make your blood boil so you changed the subject to what was for dinner and you both fell back into your comfortable routine.

That was until later on that evening. You noticed he was on his phone a lot, texting someone with a permanent grin on his face every time your back was turned. You were curious as to who it was and your mind went straight to the worst case scenario and figured it must be girl, only confirmed when you joined him on the sofa after your shower and he quickly hid his phone as soon as you walked in.

You tried to will the sinking feeling away, wondering to yourself why you even felt like this in the first place. Mason wasn’t yours to be jealous over, but he must of sensed something was up as he gave you a funny look when you sat down next to him but left a gap between you. He didn’t say anything, just laid down and put his head in your lap, waiting for you to play with his hair. When you didn’t move he looked up at you with sad eyes. You melted a bit inside and moved your hand to run your fingers through his hair. The content hum that came from him only spurring you on even more, cursing yourself that you were wrapped around his finger.

When you felt yourself getting tired, you told Mason you were going to head upstairs and he rubbed his eyes before sitting up and stretching.

‘Okay, I’ll meet you up there in a sec’ he told you, but your own insecurities were getting the better of you it seemed, words spilling from your mouth before you had time to think about them.

‘Oh um, actually I think maybe it’s best if I sleep in the guest room tonight’ you told him whilst sitting up, he turned to look at you with a hurt and confused expression.

‘What? Why?’

‘No reason I just um…’ your mind was racing for an excuse but you couldn’t come up with one and there was no way you were telling him the truth.

‘Have I done something wrong?’ He questioned and you started to feel like the worst person in the world. ‘I feel like you’ve been off with me tonight. If I’m being too much and you want some space you can tell me’ he said, standing up and stopping right in front of you. Your eyes filled with tears at this, he was always putting you first and you were in a mood with him over nothing but your own confused feelings.

‘No Mase it’s not that’ you gulped out, and he took your face in his hands, brushing away the few stray tears as he looked at you concerned. ‘I’m just having one of those days’ you breathed and he nodded at you sympathetically.

‘Well, if you change your mind you know where I’ll be’ he said quietly, and with a kiss to your forehead he was walking passed you and up his stairs.

You followed him up a few minutes after, walking into his guest room to change, but you no longer wanted to be in there on your own so you put on your brave face and went over to Masons room.

It was dark inside and Mason was already under the covers, his back facing away from you. You slipped into bed quietly, pressing yourself up against his back and wrapping your arm around his waist. You felt his whole body relax into you as he threaded his fingers through yours and hugged them to his chest. Hoping he couldn’t feel your racing heart against his back but if he could he didn’t say anything.

‘Night baby’ he whispered and you heart hammered even harder at the pet name, one he’d never called you before. Too overwhelmed to think of what to say back, you kissed him on the shoulder in response before you both drifted off to sleep.

————————————

Three days later and Mason was grinning like an idiot when he got home, and you were immediately suspicious about his mood. You were stood stirring a pot on the stove as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

‘How do you fancy a night off from cooking at the weekend?’ He asked you with a smile and he must of picked up on the confused expression on your face as you turned to him. ‘I was thinking a night out might do you good? I’ve kind of been planning dinner with Dec and Lauren to ease you into it. What do you think?’

‘Oh… um’

‘Pleaseeeeee’ he moaned, swaying you from side, pleased with himself when he heard you laughing.

‘I haven’t got anything to wear’ you told him with a pout as he let you go to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

‘Well, why don’t we have a look after dinner? We can order you something?’

‘No Mase-‘ you tried to protest but he already had his phone out googling suggestions for you.

‘Or I could ask Carlotta to bring something round?’ He told you with his eyebrow raised, knowing you would never go for it and therefore make you pick something he could buy you. You just huffed and rolled your eyes at him, knowing you were never going to win this argument.

After dinner, he showed you all the things he thought ‘would look great on you’ and you finally decided on a short black velvet dress with sheer sleeves. The sleeves were long but it was tight and short enough to show your legs off which mason seemed excited by. You told him you already had shoes and other bits but he shushed you away, fiddling about on his phone for another 20 minutes or so and claiming he was looking for himself, before he ordered it.

When the night of the dinner came you were nervous, having not seen Dec or Lauren in years but Mason claimed they were excited to see you.

The dress had arrived the day before and you were happy with the fit of it and as you stood looking in the mirror at your reflection, you were happy with how you looked. You were digging through your small jewellery bag, looking for a specific necklace when you heard a knock on the door just as you picked it up. You told mason to come in.

He stepped around the door, he eyes wide as he took you in and yours were the same as you caught sight of him through the mirror, dressed in smart black trousers, a white t shirt and a black checkered over shirt. He looked really good and you had to look down before you started blushing too hard. You were so caught up in how good he looked you didn’t notice him place something down onto the guest bed.

‘I know it doesn’t match, but do you think you could put this on for me?’ You asked him quietly, handing over the necklace that he recognised instantly.

‘You still have this?’ He asked as you turned to face away from him. It was a small blue sapphire teardrop necklace he’d bought you for your 18th birthday. He got it for you as it was Chelsea blue but you hadnt worn it in years as Eric didn’t like it.

‘Of course, it’s my favourite one I own’ you smiled at him through the mirror as he focused on doing the clasp up, his breath tickling down your neck making you shudder. Once he was done he pressed a light kiss over the chain before turning you to face him.

‘I know you’re gonna tell me off for this but I wasn’t sure if you needed one’ he started and your eyes followed to wear he was reaching, catching sight of the bag that matched your dress. ‘Please don’t be upset with me’ he laughed and you couldn’t help but laugh back, placing a kiss on his cheek as you thanked him. Truth be told you did need a bag so you werent gonna be too hard on him. Once you’d transferred everything you needed into your new bag, you followed Mason into the waiting taxi downstairs, him keeping hold of your hand the whole way as you sat next to him in the middle seat.

‘You look beautiful, by the way’ he whispered in your ear as the car was pulling up to the pavement. You dropped your head in embarrassment, it having been a while since you’d heard those words and coming from Mason they meant even more. You didn’t have time to think or say anything back as he was tugging you from the car immediately after.

You were being led over to your table when he threaded his fingers through yours and kept you close to him as he knew you were nervous, but the big smile on Lauren’s face settled you instantly. She pulled you into a hug and you willed the tears to stay in your eyes, feeling better than you had all day now the hard part was out the way. After another big hug with Dec, you took your seat next to Mason, his hand finding home on your thigh and you smiled at him briefly, letting him know it was okay, before joining in the conversation.

Dinner was great, it felt so good to be around other people and be normal, but you felt even better knowing Mason was next to you. You felt so good in fact that when Dec mentioned a few of the London based England lads were in a bar that wasn’t too far away, you didn’t hesitate to say yes to joining them.

‘You sure?’ Mason questioned with a curious look on his face. ‘We don’t have too’

‘No Mase, I want to’ you nodded at him with a smile and he smiled back just as brightly before pressing a kiss you your cheek. Mason missed the look Dec gave him but you certainly didn’t and you made sure to remember to ask him about it later on.

You were led to a private part of the bar and after meeting a few new people and being glued to Masons side for an hour, Lauren convinced you to go with her and hang out with just the girls. Mason gave you a look to silently ask if you were sure but you gave his hand a squeeze to reassure him before joining the girls table.

You drunk until you thought it was a good idea to dance, feeling more carefree than you could remember and even without Mason by your side you still felt safe, a feeling you knew you would have to get used to. Once you and Lauren felt tired, you went in search of the boys, finding Mason perched on the arm of one of the sofas. His face lit up immediately at the sight of you and you could tell he was drunk from the way he swayed when he held his arms out for you to step into, turning away from everyone else so you could have a private moment.

‘Hey pretty girl’ he murmured into your neck, kissing it softly and you could of sworn you felt him chuckle at the way your body shivered when he touched you. ‘I’ve missed you’

‘I missed you too, Mase’ you replied and you pulled back to look into his bleary eyes. Even drunk he was still perfect to you, his cheeks and the bridge of his nose flushed and his lips looked even more pouty and kissable than usual. The smile he was giving you at your words was making your knees weak so you grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself whilst he held you at your waist.

‘We’ll go in a sec yeah?’ He winked, ‘I think it’s way past our bedtime’ and you nodded in response. Although you had enjoyed tonight, you were ready to be back in your pyjamas and in Masons arms.

He excused himself to sort an Uber for the two of you, and in his absence you managed to catch Dec alone. He smiled, putting his arm around you and went to speak, but you managed to get in there first.

‘Dec? I saw the way you were looking at me and Mase at dinner’ you told him and it only made his smile grow bigger. ‘What was that all about?’

‘Look y/n I’m not gonna pretend that I know what’s gone on the past few years, but I know it’s not been good’ he started, giving you a sympathetic look, but he moved the conversation on quickly. ‘But I also know my best mate, and I know when he likes someone’ he paused to see if you’d caught on it he wasn’t entirely sure. ‘I’ve seen the way he looks at you, the way you are with each other and I’ve never seen anything like it. You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about him as more than a friend?’

You knew you were blushing, of course you’d thought about him like that. Who hadn’t? It was the thought of him looking at you in that way that was confusing. Your confidence had been on the floor for the longest time, and whilst you were working on it, you found it hard to imagine Mason liking you in that way.

‘Look, you didn’t hear it from me’ he chuckled, quietly grabbing your attention back from your thoughts ‘but he worships the ground you walk on. That night you first showed up at his house? He called me and was ready to commit murder for you. I know it may seem a bit scary, but life’s about taking risks yeah? You wouldn’t be here out with us tonight if you hadn’t been brave’

You agreed with him, giving him a hug just as Mason appeared. You said your goodbyes and made it outside just in time to get in the car. Once back at his, you both helped each other stumble inside and up to his room. You’d taken your makeup off in the bathroom and returned to find him starfished on his bed, clad only in his boxers. You took a few minutes to take him in, thinking you’d never seen anyone more beautiful than him.

As if he could sense you, he sat up and beckoned you over, sitting you on his lap before unclasping your necklace and popping it on the table by your side. You could feel him start to press feather light kisses on your neck, the alcohol clearly giving him courage as he gripped your waist tightly. You figured it was time to be brave just like Declan told you to be.

‘Mase?’ You questioned, almost breathlessly. He hummed to let you know he was listening but he didn’t take his focus off the back of your neck. ‘Do you think you could unzip me?’

You felt him let out a breath before his hands moved to gently unzip your dress, you could tell how careful he was being with you and your heart gave a squeeze. You shivered as he ran his fingertips up your back and dipped them under the shoulders of you dress, pushing it off you so it fell forward leaving you sat with just your bra on top. Mason was too busy leaving open mouthed kisses on your shoulders to notice you quickly unhook it, but once he had, he moved his lips all over your back, pulling a quiet moan from you which made him grin into your skin.

‘Mason’ you scolded him gently and attempted to move off of him, but he firmly held you in place.

‘Shhhhh, just let me love on you a bit’ he murmured, still pressing kisses onto you, setting your skin on fire. You let him carry on, enjoying the way his lips felt against your hot skin. You thought you’d be more self conscious, sat with your naked back to him, your chest uncovered out of his sight but he never made a move to touch you there or make you uncomfortable.

It had been so long since you’d been intimate like this with someone. Sex with Eric had dried up months before you’d left, and even before that you’d never really enjoyed it so to be in the palm of masons hand like this felt a bit foreign, but you were also enjoying every second of it. Before you could get too caught up in the moment, you jumped up from his lap. Not wanting to push things too far.

You let your dress and bra fall to the floor once you had untangled your arms from the sleeves, leaving you in just your lacy black underwear, giving Mason a cheeky view of you bum as you made your way over to where he had slung the T-shirt he wore that night. You picked it up and put it on, your back still turned to him and only when you were covered did you face him. It was the first time you’d worn anything of his and you felt your tummy flip as his smell overtook you.

His eyes were dark and there was an obvious tent in his boxers but you suddenly started to feel like a deer in headlights. His gaze made you freeze and he must of sensed something was wrong because his face softened and he slowly walked towards you to grab your hand before tucking you into bed. He got in besides you and you both turned to face each other, his eyes looking at you full of love.

‘As gorgeous as you looked tonight, I love seeing you like this’ he told you quietly, moving closer to you and wrapping an arm around your waist. His fingers dipping just below his shirt so he could feel the skin on your back. You could smell the alcohol on him and he was clearly still quite drunk but you were enjoying his compliments. ‘I wanna kiss you so bad’ he suddenly admitted, speaking quietly into you temple. You felt yourself freeze again and when you didn’t say anything he shuffled down to look into your eyes.

‘It’s probably just the alcohol talking Mase’ you joked but he was looking at you seriously.

‘No it’s not. I’ve wanted to kiss you since I was 17, and I’m pretty sure I haven’t been drunk since then’ he argued you couldn’t help but let out a giggle before he buried his head in your neck. ‘Don’t laugh, it’s true’ he teased ‘do you know how hard it’s been for me? To see you with that prick for years when I know you should have been mine? But you’re my best friend and I was trying to be supportive. And then you turn up here looking hot as hell and you’re sleeping next to me every night in those fucking silky pyjamas that drive me insane. like do you know how difficult it’s been?’ He whined but you could tell there was a layer of humour underneath. ‘I don’t want to overstep the mark cause I know you’re not ready for any of that but fuck, you’re on my mind 24/7’ You grabbed of hold of his face and forced him to look at you.

‘It’s been difficult for me too’ you whispered ‘it may of took me a littler longer to realise it, but I really wanna kiss you too’ you admitted and you felt him lean in almost straight away. You quickly placed a finger to his lips and he groaned audibly to which you laughed. ‘We’re still both really drunk Mase. If you still feel like kissing me tomorrow when we’re both sober, I think that might be okay’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah’ you nodded, and he was quick to settle back onto the pillow.

‘Let’s get some sleep then, so the morning comes quicker’ he told you, like a kid on Christmas, and you couldn’t help but place a kiss on his forehead.

‘I’m not great at saying it, but you know I love you, don’t you Mase?’ And he held you that little bit tighter, nodding into your neck.

‘I love you too’ he murmured

————————————

The next morning you woke up to Mason spooning you, his soft snores right by your ear and whilst you would have found it annoying if it were anyone else, you couldn’t get over how cute he was. You stayed there, revelling in his warmth for another half an hour or so until you felt him start to shift, pulling you impossibly closer. He groaned as if he was in pain, but you could help but laugh as you knew it was just because he was hungover. He groaned even louder at this and nestled into your neck.

‘Morning, baby’ he murmured, your heart thumping at the use of that name again. You turned in his arms to find him still with his eyes shut, but his brows pinched together in discomfort.

‘Morning, Mase. You feeling alright?’

‘I think my brain melted out of my head in the night’ he told you quietly, opening one eye to look at you and his face softened immediately. ‘You okay?’

‘My heads a bit fuzzy, but I’m fine. How about I make you some breakfast? You’ll feel loads better after you’ve eaten’ You told him before detaching yourself from his grip. He was in too much of a state to keep you there, so he let you go.

You were almost done cooking when you saw Mason enter the kitchen, now dressed in a pair of grey shorts but his bare torso was still on show. You had to tell yourself to look away and concentrate. He flopped himself down on the kitchen island, and you placed some painkillers in front him with a glass of orange juice. You left him to take them whilst you dished up his breakfast, but he grabbed your wrist before you could walk off when you set his plate down.

‘Where’s yours?’ He pouted and you rolled your eyes at his neediness.

‘I’m just getting it you big baby’ you told him, and he nodded at you with a shy look on his face. You ate mostly in silence, his eyes glazing at you every so often but you were enjoying the peace, slowly starting to feel more alive with each passing second.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, he placed a kiss to your forehead as he stood, grabbing his and your empty plates to take them over to the sink.

‘You go sit and find us something to watch, I’ll clean up’ he told you, and you quickly nipped upstairs to pop on a pair of leggings, feeling a bit exposed parading around in just his shirt, before finding a film for the two of you to watch. He was soon to join you, now with a hoodie on, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest. ‘Thank you for looking after me, sorry I’m such a wimp’ he murmured but you looked up at him with a reassuring smile.

‘Don’t be silly, you’re not a wimp. Are you feeling any better?’

‘Lots’ he smiled and gave you a light kiss on the forehead before you both settled down to watch tv. You were fine for the first five minutes but thoughts started niggling away at you soon after, thinking back to last nights conversation. Clearly it really was the alcohol talking as he’d made no mention of the kiss and you felt disheartened, only thankful for the fact he’d clearly forgotten so you didn’t make too much of a fool out of yourself. Unless he did remember but he wasn’t saying anything out of pure embarrassment. But you were a bit upset to say the least, his words last night had filled you with hope and now your confidence was back on the floor. You contemplated asking him if he remembered anything from the night before but you held your tongue.

Mason fidgeted the whole way through the movie which you put down to his hangover. It was starting to annoy you though so you shuffled away from him a little bit so you you lie down with your head facing away from him. He seemed to take offence to this though, muttering a soft hey, and huffing like a child.

‘What you doing over there?’ He pouted but you Just shrugged, not wanting him to know the reason you were upset. He looked at you with a scowl before moving to lay down in front of you, his head on the pillow blocking your view of the tv, his eyes searching yours as he gently brushed the hair off your face. Your faces were close, his nose almost brushing yours and you had to swallow a nervous lump. ‘Y/n?’ He questioned and you met his soft eyes, a barely their smile on his lips as he prepared himself to speak again. ‘Do you think I could have that kiss now?’ He asked quietly and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling too wide.

‘You remembered?’ You whispered and he nodded his head gently, a blush taking over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose in the way you adored.

‘Of course’ he breathed his eyes dancing over your face as if to make sure you you were still on board. ‘Was just a bit too nervous to ask that’s all’ he admitted and you could feel your heart beating wildly out of your chest. ‘Sit up for me yeah?’ He asked and you returned to your previous position, sat next to him but your legs now draped over his thigh. He cupped your jaw gently and unsure with what to do with your hands, you rested then on his chest as you both tried to relax a bit.

He started off by pressing a few kisses on your cheek, checking with you that you were okay before moving closer to your mouth. With one last look into your eyes, he closed the space between you and planted his lips on yours.

You were quite certain you’d never felt like this whilst being kissed before, your breath knocked out of you almost instantly as he claimed you as his own. He was so gentle with you yet harsh at the same time, your lips moving in sync as your hands moved to around his neck to make sure he didn’t part from you. You could hear your heart beating in your ears as the kiss got heavier and when he slipped his tongue inside your mouth, you let out an audible moan which made him smile against your lips. You both pulled back to catch your breath, Mason cursing under his breath before you both let out a little laugh.

‘Why the fuck have we not done that sooner’ he laughed before pressing another quick kiss to your lips. ‘God, I can’t stop’ he joked, pressing more kisses all over your face until he made it back to your lips, pulling you in closer and tilting your face so he could get a better angle and kiss you even deeper.

You could have stayed there for hours kissing Mason, his lips felt amazing against yours and your whole body felt as light as air. He let go of one side of your face, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer against him. You didn’t mind, wanting to be as close to him a possible right now. He pulled away again and you pouted at the loss of contact, but the serious look on his face made your heart race.

He lent forward, resting his forehead on yours and closed his eyes, a tiny smirk on his lips.

‘I’m so in love with you’ he admitted with a quiet voice and you felt your soul almost leap from your body at his confession. Sure you told each other ‘I love you’ all the time, that’s what best friends do. But in love? That was new.

‘Mase, I-‘

He cut you off with a finger to your lips, stopping whatever you were about to say. You both pulled back so he could look you in your eyes properly.

‘Just let me finish yeah? I need to get this out before I get too nervous again’ he told you with a small laugh so you let him carry on, curious to what else he had to say. ‘I’m not expecting you to feel the same, not yet anyway. I know you’ve gone through some really hard years and it’s gonna take a lot to trust someone again, but I really wanna be that guy’ he told you sincerely, cupping your face again and you leant your face further into his hand. ‘I’m not perfect, and things between us can’t always be but you’re all I’ve ever wanted, y/n. I’d do absolutely anything for you and I think I’ve proved I’m capable of looking after you and being what you need. I just don’t want this to ever stop’ he admitted and you felt the tears spill from your eyes. He was quick to wipe them away and place a gentle kiss on the end oh your nose. ‘I’m not saying we need to dive right into anything straight away, but when you’re ready to let someone back in, I’ll be waiting for you yeah? We can go at your own pace but you know me. You can trust me, I’ll prove it’

‘You don’t have to prove anything to me, Mase’ you told him with a smile and he let out a tiny laugh.

‘Well I’ll do whatever makes you comfortable’ he murmured but you were lost for words. No one had even spoken to you in this way before and you almost didn’t feel worthy of his affections. ‘Or if you don’t feel the same way, we can just forget I said anything and carry on like normal’

‘Mase’ you groaned with a laugh, burring your head into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

‘I know it’s scary, but please tell me how you’re feeling’ he whispered. He sounded so vulnerable in that moment, and you took Decs advice again, wanting to be brave and make sure the man you loved knew how you felt.

‘You’re really bloody oblivious sometimes Mase, it’s always been you’ you told him, coming to terms with that yourself but it was true. ‘I’m in love with you too’ you whispered, and you felt his whole body relax, moving back so you could look into his glazed over eyes. ‘Have been for a long time, just didn’t know how to tell you’ you let out a sob at the end, Mason holding you tighter, shushing you and kissing your cheek.

‘It’s okay, the scary parts out the way now’ he chuckled and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

‘I could never repay you for everything you’ve done for me. You picked me up when I was at my lowest and helped put me back together again. I know I’m not all the way there, but I really want to try and be what you need too Mason’

He shook his head at your words, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. ‘You’re already what I need, baby. And we’ve got the rest of our lives to work all out the other stuff’ you could only nod at him, too overcome with emotion to form a sentence. ‘Love you’ he whispered, bumping his nose against yours before kissing you again.

‘Love you too’

Thank you so much for reading 😌 I'd really like some feedback so please feel free to drop me an ask or whatever you feel comfortable doing, I'd really love to hear from you 🩷

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dewdrops-whammy-bar · 9 days

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Tenth Drink Free

Chapter 1/10: Heart 1721 words

Dewdrop is a barista in a college town. He’s sworn off romance for the time being- he doesn’t have time for it. He’s an adult with a job, he doesn’t have time for dating and inevitable heartbreak. Until a hot nursing student with an ass to rival the gods walks in. Oh fuck. And he’s got puppy eyes. Oh FUCK. A story told in the space of nine coffee shop purchases and a freebie.

Behold, the quinessential (no pun intended) coffee shop au that every fanfic author writes eventually. I need hot nursing student Aether and pathetic sopping wet barista Dew to have gay t4t sex.

I don't have a set upload schedule but if you want to be added to a taglist lmk in the comments!

Read below or on AO3!

Dew cracks open his energy drink with his teeth as his other hand haphazardly pulls his apron over his head. The strap catches on the butterfly clip holding his hair back and yanks it out of place. Dew hisses in pain as it tugs on his hair and manages to catch it before it hits the floor.

“Hungover again?” Cirrus asks sympathetically as she passes with a tray of pastries. Dew grunts and shakes his head.

“Nah. Couldn’t sleep.” It’s only semi-true, he’d in fact been having a marathon of 80s horror movies. He’d awoken to Rain slinking out of his room at 11 to make coffee, leaving only thirty minutes to throw on clean clothes before he had to be at work. Luckily the little cafe tucked between a furniture store and a Mediterranean restaurant was only a fifteen minute walk from his apartment. The benefits of living in a college town, he supposes.

“I can let you off early so you can go home for a nap,” Cirrus offers. “Tuesdays are slow in the afternoons anyway.”

“That would be amazing, thanks Cir.” Dew sighs and takes a sip of his energy drink. He bends the tab of the can up, clamps it between his teeth, and pulls his hair back. Wrapping it into a loose bun, he secures it with the butterfly clip and retrieves his can from its precarious position.

“You’re gonna chip a tooth like that,” Swiss provides unhelpfully from his place at the sink. “And god knows if the dental insurance here will cover that.”

“I’ll be fine.” Dew rolls his eyes. “Focus on those muffin pans, dish boy.”

Swiss flips him a soapy middle finger, but Dew has turned and walked out of the kitchen by then. He downs about half of his red bull, stifles a burp behind his hand, and taps Aurora out at the register.

“Ohhh, thank god.” Rory sighs, dropping her customer service face. “There were two Karens half an hour ago. One right after the other. Fuckin’ exhausting.” Her bright pink lipstick is slightly smeared, evidence of her bad habit of chewing on her lips. “I need a drink…”

“It’s noon. Go steal a croissant from the kitchen instead. Thanks for putting me in the line of fire, by the way.” Dew rolls his eyes playfully. “Go smack Swiss’s ass for me.”

“Yessir!” Rory gives a two-finger salute before scurrying off into the kitchen. Dew sighs and resigns himself to the following hours of tedious interaction. A moment later, there’s a squawk from the kitchen followed by a squeal from Aurora.

A chai latte, a caramel macchiato, two vanilla lattes, two drip coffees, an Italian soda, and a needlessly complicated order that Dew can’t even begin to remember later, he’s only a quarter of the way through his shift. At least it’s a quiet day. The regulars from the local college usually come in before classes or on weekends to study.

Dew props his elbow on the counter and rests his chin in his hand, letting his mind wander. He’s been saving up for a cool guitar pedal and managed to find it on Ebay for half the price, but he is in a bidding war for it. He’d sneak a peek at the listing on his phone while the cafe was relatively quiet but he’d left it in his bag. Shit.

He straightens up, cracks his back, and begins reorganizing the supplies behind the bar. His fingers are getting twitchy from the caffeine kicking in. He curses his health insurance for not covering ADHD medication so he can actually function as a person. Or mood stabilizers. Or even therapy.

The door swings open again as Dew is cleaning the steam wand on the espresso machine. He sets the wet rag on the counter and turns to see- oh wow. His grumpy mood is instantly forgotten.

An absolute Greek god of a man stands near the doorway, scanning the drinks menu. He’s tall, built like a brick wall with just the right amount of chub, and- from what Dew can see- an ass to die for. If he were a slightly weaker man, he would vault over the counter, drop to his knees, and choke himself unconscious on that man’s dick.

He shifts his weight and bites his tongue in annoyance. Stupid fucking high libido. He doesn’t have time to be creaming his pants at work. He’s not above using his break to jerk off in the bathroom, though…

Someone clears their throat. Big Sexy (as he’s decided to call the man) stands before him, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Oh, are you ready to order?” Dew asks, hoping to any higher powers above and/or below that he hadn’t been staring.

“Yeah. Can I get a… actually, what do you recommend?” Big Sexy asks, cocking his head adorably. Dew feels hypnotized by his dark blue eyes. “This is my first time here, I’ve been meaning to check it out for a while but kept forgetting.” He shrugs apologetically.

“Oh- yeah,” Dew stammers a bit. “I, uh, my go-to is a cold brew with hazelnut syrup and about half of one of those creamer cups.” He points at the side counter where a small shelf holds straws, sugar packets, and other extras. “You could add more cream if you want, I just like it a little bitter.”

I wonder what his cream tastes like, his horny brain supplies helpfully. Dew gives that part of his brain a mental smack and turns his attention back to Big Sexy.

“Alright, I’ll have that. Medium, please.” Big Sexy reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. Dew enters the order into the register, glad to pull his eyes away from Big Sexy’s.

“That’s $4.25.” Dew grabs a clear cup from a stack and jots down the order as Big Sexy swipes his card. “And can I get a name for the order?”

“Oh- Aether. A-E-T-H-E-R.” Big Sexy- Aether replies, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Aether…” Dew mumbles to himself as he scribbles down the name. “Sick name. Your parents must’ve been cool.”

“Actually, I uh- I named myself. Had a weird phase when I was 15 and it kind of… stuck.” Aether seems a little embarrassed by this, rubbing the back of his neck.

Dew pauses for a moment to consider this information. Aether could just be a nickname, or… well, Dew had renamed himself at 13. There could be a possibility that Aether was trans, just like him, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. Instead he turns to begin making the drink.

“I’ll have it for you in a minute,” he tells Aether, physically restraining himself from sneaking another glance at those pretty blue eyes. That would have been weird, and he really doesn’t want to scare this guy off.

Dew finishes making the coffee almost on autopilot. He wants to ask questions- was he a student at the local college? If yes, what did he study? Did he have a private dorm room? Would he be willing to fuck Dew until-

Good lord, get your shit together. Dew thinks, giving his head a shake. Your break’s in half an hour. You can fantasize then.

He slides the finished drink across the counter with a little creamer cup on top. “Aether? Here ya go.” He didn’t really need to call out the order name since there wasn’t anyone else waiting, but he liked saying it. Aether. Ay-ther. It was a cool name.

“Thanks, uh…” Aether’s eyes dart down to Dew’s nametag. “Dew. That’s, ah- that’s a cool name too.”

“Thanks. Picked it out myself.” Dew rarely genuinely smiles at customers, but the grin he gives Aether is 100% real. “You’ll never guess what it’s short for.”

“Hmm… Dewey? Dwight?” Aether cocks his head again, not unlike a puppy. Dew shakes his head.

“Nope.” Dew turns back to the machines, picking up his discarded cleaning rag. “You can keep trying, I doubt you’ll get it.”

“Guess I’ll have to keep coming back.” Aether chuckles. “Do you guys have a punch card by any chance?”

Dew sputters, left reeling by the comment. God, he’s pathetic. The mere suggestion that Aether might be coming back makes his heart flutter like a teen with their first crush. Oh fuck, was this a crush? He’s too old to be having those.

“Um- yeah, let me get one for you.” Dew turns back to the register to hopefully hide any blush he had and retrieves a punch card from the drawer under the counter. He remembers to grab the hole puncher too and clicks a hole in the first space on the card. It was a heart today, of all shapes. “Here.”

“Thanks so much.” Aether gives Dew a smile and poor Dew can do nothing but stare at his stupid, gorgeous puppy eyes. “I’ll make sure to come back.”

“Y-yeah, see you soon then.” Dew manages to say with a nod. He watches Aether leave- Good lord, that ass is a sight to behold- and decides to take his break early. He taps Swiss in and makes for the back door of the kitchen.

Leaning against the wall next to the dumpster, he lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag. His head tips back against the brick wall as he exhales the smoke. God… pull it together. You are twenty-four. You have a job and hobbies. You absolutely CANNOT be having a puppy crush on a CUSTOMER. Especially one you’ve only interacted with for five minutes. This is pathetic. Finish your cig and go do your job so you can get paid and be a functioning adult.

Dew does just that- smokes his cigarette down to the filter, stubs it out on the wall, tosses the butt into the dumpster, pops a mint in his mouth, and re-enters the kitchen.

The rest of his shift goes… fine, he guesses. He downs another red bull, banters with Swiss, gets scolded by Cumulus for “using kitchen equipment unsafely” (closing an oven with his hip), and manages to interact with customers without accumulating an HR report.

On his walk home, the darkening autumn sky is remarkably close to a certain shade of blue. Dew grits his teeth and turns his gaze to the sidewalk.

kudos and comments on ao3 would make my day!

#nameless ghouls #the band ghost #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #dewther #dewdrop/aether #aether/dewdrop #trans dewdrop #trans aether #trans ghouls #wham writes #Dewther TDF

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sameschmidtdiffname · 8 months

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Tumblr WILL NOT let me post the fic and this ask at the same time and I've tried legit five times. So THANK YOU anon for the request and I'm sorry for the weirdness in uploading. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this!

My Ghost.

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: You don't know what happened that night. Things were fine, life was good, then your partner is on the news for all sorts of shit you never would've thought him capable of the day prior. He was dead, he was evil, and you were trying to move on. But what's the proper etiquette when the dead show up on your door unannounced?

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/comfort, fake death, mentions of drinking, drug use/dealing, grieving, arguing, cursing, flashbacks, brief suggestive scenes, suicidal thoughts.

Other Works in This Series: 'Repentance' (Prequel to 'My Ghost') • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: The way I've been trying to upload this for two hours. Oh my fucking God. Anyways, everyone say thank you to anon for getting me to write something that doesn't make God cry.

-¤°》◇《°¤-

I'm not hard to please, but I'm not desperate despite what the rumors may say.

People enjoy gossip. People who don't know fuck all about you. And my standards are fine. Were fine. And I don't mean standards such as 'buys me flowers everyday' or 'doesn't deal coke.' I mean standards such as 'is a decent fucking person.'

"That's what I thought you were up until all of this fucking... disappearing for months!" I scream, anger fueling me. I don't let the other emotions win out, don't let them have a say. Because if I do, I'll be too conflicted and overwhelmed and then I'm gonna cry, and that's not fair.

People had warned me he was trouble. Terms such as 'wannabe cowboy,' 'rebel without a cause' were tossed around in warning. But to me, he was just Billy.

Then he was dead.

Now, he was here. He showed up at my door nine months after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon.

Then he was on the news. And a gas station blew up. Gangs, stolen vehicles. He was probably dead. Things would be easier if he was dead.

Fine. Maybe I initially ignored warning signs. Maybe I was distracted by his handsome side profile, too busy admiring his nose to notice the occasions it was dusted with the trace of a fine powder. Maybe his hands were too beautiful for me to realize they were slipping money to men in dark jackets when we went out to the rougher parts of town. But he was mine and I was his, and overall he was a good person.

He was alive. He was alive and I was mad because if he was dead then at least it would be valid that for nine months I have had to deal with the accusatory stares of our neighbors assuming I knew, the pity from my loved ones, and the betrayel that kept me awake at night. It would mean he hadn't left me to deal with his repercussions, that maybe there was a valid excuse. An undiagnosed brain tumor that finally gave way to insanity, a gun to his head. Something that was not the worst case scenario of just... being an awful person. I could let his things rest around the house undisturbed, hiding from the world and waiting to find the courage to join him one day and living in denial in the meantime. What the fuck was all of this?

"I couldn't tell you," he keeps saying. "It was better if you knew nothing until I was sure I could come get you."

"Why didn't you just take me with you from the start?" I ask. I've been pacing the floor for the past twenty minutes ever since he showed up. It was better than throwing every breakable object in the cheap, worn down shack of a house at him, which was my second instinct. My first was to pull him into my arms, draw the curtains shut and hide him away so that he'll never leave again. Like an idiot.

He laughs bitterly. "You would not be asking that if you knew what the fuck I went through," he says. His words sound like they should be angry, but there's this lightness to them like he can't let himself think too much about it. It just makes me angrier.

"Don't fucking laugh!" I snap. "Do you think any of this is funny?"

"I think you're funny when you're mad," he deflects, smiling. "You got this whole routine. Pacing, nose twitching. I like the Shirley Temple stomps, like you're a kid."

I groan loudly, the noise almost sounding like a low scream in my throat.

"You owed money to fucking- who?" I yell.

"The details don't matter-"

"When I have been grieving your death for nine months, they fucking matter!" I snap. His brows furrow, his hands mid air as if to say 'the fuck did I do?'

"You know me, okay? I don't get caught," he says as though it were obvious.

"I know fucking nothing!" I practically scream.

When we met he was just a guy at a bar, handsome, wearing that same ridiculous jacket that I couldn't help but stroke the white fluff on, tequila running through my veins.

"Can I help you?" He asked, smirking.

"Just wanted to see what it felt like," I said.

"Wanna feel something else?" He asked, his chin resting on his head.

"Oh, fucking gross. Fuck o-"

"I was talking about this," he said, whipping out his keys to show off an odd, weirdly shaped keychain with short, stiff fuzz. "Don't call me a pervert just cause you're one."

He was smiling. It was an easy smile. Careless, happy with life. I loved that smile. It meant things were always alright as long as he was smiling.

He was smiling on the photo they used for the manhunt.

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"They're a keepsake," he'd insist. "A living memory." He wore them everyday.

He's wearing sneakers, today.

At the end of the night, I stumbled out of the bar with a note in my coat pocket. It took two weeks for me to wear that coat again, and when I found the slip I'd almost thrown it away, assuming it was something dumb. But when I saw the worst handwriting in the world displaying a number belonging to someone named 'Keychain Guy,' I almost couldn't wait to call.

"Bullshit," Billy snaps. "You know me better than anyone."

"Don't say that," I say, putting a hand out protectively to keep him away. "That's exactly why everyone thinks I was just fine with that whole- fucked up thing!"

A gas station burned. A stolen vehicle. People were dead. People were dead.

Billy was presumed dead.

There was no funeral. He had no family, and none of mine wanted to put money into something that would be protested by the whole town anyways. No body to bury, nothing to do but gather up his things and smoke what remained in his stash until people came to nurse me back to life. By that point there wasn't even relief in drugs. The taste simply reminded me of better times cooking in the kitchen as we blew the smoke into each others faces, or worse. Better. Whatever.

I never questioned when Billy went out of town. I knew his work had details I didn't want nor need to know. Money was tight. But Billy always came home with little things whenever he went on unexpected trips. Knick knacks, snacks, some item I'd seen at the store and picked up to make a comment about. Had he been particularly forthcoming about his dealing when we started dating? No. He said he worked for a local small business, which technically isn't untrue. But about six months in, he was the one who approached me and sat me down at the small, rickty round table to tell me the truth. And that's what mattered to me. The economy is shit and it's not like it was meth, so who am I to judge?

About a year into it, I was begging for him to do something else.

"I don't like you disappearing," I told him. "I'm scared one day you're gonna piss someone off and that'll be the end. Then what am I gonna do?"

"Then you're gonna make sure they don't fuck up my face during the embalming process for the funeral," Billy said around his hand rolled cigarette. I whip the small dish towel at him, making him laugh and protect his small ashtray that I made him for Christmas the year prior. It was shitty, uneven, and I'm 99% sure a fire hazard. But he wouldn't use any other ones unless I was the one who bought them for him, and even then he favored this one. 'When this place goes up in flames,' I thought, 'I'll regret that gift.'

I'd kept it by the kitchen window every day since he'd died. "Died." It was his spot.

He moves to sit there now, looking in his pockets for the small box of prerolled cigarettes.

"People know you weren't involved," he says dismissively.

"Your friends know. What about the old ladies at church? The checkout clerks at the store? How about the fucking mailman?" I shout, convinced I'm still talking to the dead. "You think they know the ins and outs of the local psychos support group?" I ask, gesturing and stepping closer.

I was the local outcast now. Not to be trusted, not worth kindness. Shame was my title, and when Billy appeared on my doorstep at an hour where only I was awake I was sure I'd caught the same awful disease that must have been what sent him spiraling that winter day. It wasn't until he pushed the door open fully, taking me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my lips that I knew he was real. It was a feeling I was in the early stages of forgetting, blurry and cold. But here he was, the stubble on his chin a bit longer and his ears missing the small hoops that had glittered in the sunlight when he walked out the door.

Then I'd pushed him away. And the fight began.

"I'm not a fucking psycho," he argues. His hands pat around his outfit, searching. "You got a lighter?"

"Fuck off." I kept his favorite in my left pocket. I had to be careful what things of his I wore or kept on my person. People close to me knew I would have never condoned his actions, but even they had glared at me in the early wake of Billy's death when I dared to wear one of his shirts out of the house, or more commonly one of his thick leather jackets. But a lighter can be hidden, and unless you had borrowed it you wouldn't know it had specifically been his. So I kept it with me all the time, just feeling it next to my skin with the only barrier being the fabric of my pocket. Without a thought, I cover the small item as though he can see right through me. Picking up on the hint, he's rises from the table and begins walking over to me.

"Don't be a dick, just let me borrow it," he says, holding out his hand.

"Fuck off," I snap.

"You've said that. I just need it for two seconds," he says as his hands begin to gently grab at me, one on my shoulder and the other dipping into my pocket.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I yell, slapping at him.

"Just let me have-"

He cuts himself off as he pulls out the lighter from my pocket, his thumb grazing over the printed picture. The Statue of David. He'd bought because it made us laugh. One side was the regular statue, the other a close up of its small genitals with cursive writing underneath spelling the art piece's name.

"Oh," Billy says quietly.

We stand for a moment, silent. He doesn't seem sure what to do. My lungs burn with unheaved sobs. I fucking hate this.

"You were gonna come back," I finally say quietly. I hate how my voice sounds when I'm upset. I hate that I'm wearing his dogtag, an item he'd bought at a World War II museum in middle school that he gave me for our first Christmas because we were both too broke to actually buy each other anything, hence the poorly made ashtray. I hate that when I sleep at night it's in his clothes that I rarely wash because the idea of losing his smell makes me want to scream. I hate that his scent is different from the bottle of cologne he kept next to my makeup, one time spilling all over the entire bathroom counter because we'd gotten too wrapped up in each other, dragging our nails down each others backs and watching ourselves in the mirror until one wrong move of my hand revealed he'd been a bit too careless about screwing the lid back on earlier in the day. I'd always warned him about that.

I'd been in the bathroom putting on my permanently scented blush when I got the text.

"I was going to," he said softly. "Then I couldn't."

"So what?" I say, not daring to turn and face him, choosing instead to stare at where the cheap, old wood paneling of the wall meets the shaggy, stained carpet that you have to wear shoes on due to the staples that have begun sticking out of it. "You just propose to someone and then pretend to die?"

Valentines Day was an awfully cheesy day to do it. So it's a good thing it was a technicality.

The day had been lovely. Billy had saved up a little to take me to a local hibachi place, telling me to wear my best outfit and jewelry. It was slightly overkill, but it's the small things in life, isn't it?

We'd come home with a bottle of wine, a low budget movie to ignore and hands searching desperately for each other.

"I love you," he'd said between pants. "You're mine."

"Buy a ring," I'd dared. Our minds were buzzed, the bottle half empty and our clothes thrown away without care. Took me weeks to find his both of his socks.

I hadn't meant for him to take it seriously. But I guess he decided it was time.

Two days later I thought it was odd when he walked into the house with my favorite lunch. It wasn't expensive really, we just usually got it for special occasions or days that had been mentally harder for me. And things were normal that day. I was getting ready for my shift, running around like I always do trying to make sure I've got everything.

"Your coffee's in the cup, will you just sit down?" He laughed, watching me. I quickly collected the take out box, sipping my coffee and wincing over its temperature.

"Fuck, that burns," I cursed. He wrapped his arms around me, trying to get me to sit at the table. "Baby, I can't," I protested softly, but I was laughing. He was peppering me in kisses, giving me those big puppy dog eyes everyone knew were my weakness. He wanted for nothing so long as he looked at me just like that.

"Just this once," he asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I couldn't help the blush and giggle that rose from me, but I also couldn't be late.

"I'll make up for it," I promised, slipping away and running into the bedroom to get my shoes. When I ran back in, pulling them on and coming to kiss him goodbye, I nearly fell over when I saw him on one knee, smiling and looking at me like 'I told you so.'

I don't like how itchy the ring feels on my middle finger as I twirl it in thought.

"You don't know what happened," he pleaded, his hands still on me. "If you would just listen to me-"

"The news gave a pretty good description, William. I don't think there's missing pieces in my head, unlike you," I say coldly, detaching from myself so to not have to deal with my emotions. This makes him stiffen, pulling away and resuming his place at the kitchen table, lighting his cigarette and placing the ashtray in front of him like nothing has changed when everything has.

It feels like I'm out of time. Like I've been shoved into a picture of what my life looked like before. Except the house was never this clean, clothes always scattered about. Not just in a fit of passion, we just had bad habits when it came to picking up. Billy would always say the chairs are more decorations then they are seats, anyways. "Why would you use those when you have such a nice seat here?" He'd ask, wiggling his hips and placing his hands behind his head, making me laugh.

Billy never looked so well put together in the house, usually in a wife beater and his hair framing his face. He'd always joked he looked like a dirty hippie around me, and I'd always show him how much I liked that. Not that he looked fantastic now. When we went out he was known for putting in effort. He always had more hair products than me, which I found funny. Though he refused makeup. Once I'd managed to talk him into eyeliner. 'Guyliner' I'd teased. He liked it, but said it should stay between us with a wink before asking where to get dinner. Now he sits before me in clothes obviously stolen to help him look unremarkable, his hair shaggy and uncut, so different from the man I loved.

"Who are you?" I asked him. That man didn't shrink away from accountability.

He sighed, smoke swirling around him as he wipes his face with his hand.

"I don't know. Can't tell if I'm better or worse, to be honest," he admits softly. His eyes look haunted, heavy bags underneath. It's the way his shoulders sag as though his will to go on is slowly draining from him in this very moment that makes me want to break now. Like whatever reason he had for still going was fruitless.

I didn't like the way we mirrored each other like this.

I slowly scuff my feet towards him, tapping my fingers against the back of the wooden chair before pulling it out to sit across from him. It's a start.

"So if you tell me," I say slowly. "Am I going to wish you were dead?"

He doesn't look at me. "I don't know."

Great.

The night is long. Morning comes without an invitation, the blue sky beginning to glow through the shitty blinders I always told Billy we should replace one day. I understand less than when we started, we've both cried more than once, and between our fingers is cigarette stubs and the feeling of each others skin, hands laced together as though another click of an old remote to an outdated TV with batteries you had to rub against your shirt to make work would reveal the smouldering remains of a gas station, displaying the estimated body count and deeming one of us as a devil of the worst kind, ripping us apart.

"Jesus," I say when it's over.

"Yeah," he says. "So, needless to say, my anxiety is shit now."

It isn't funny. It's a tragic statement. But when we both glance into the others eyes, it's his small little smirk that makes me laugh like I haven't since my mother sent me the local news report with his picture covering the front page. The same one that shows everything is still okay.

"I'm sorry," I say. Then the laughing turns into sobbing, and then I can't breathe. And I really am sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't help him. I'm sorry he went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money he shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. I'm sorry he couldn't come back for me. And I'm sorry for hating him when he showed up unannounced at my door.

"Hey," he says gently, standing and crossing to me, removing his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders to comfort me. It's unfamiliar, evidence of a life he wouldn't have led if he had just stayed by me and it upsets me, but his lips against my wet cheeks ground me, familiar and soothing me, coaxing me into wrapping my arms around him, clawing my trembling fingers through his hair. Still soft. Still combed.

"You can't stay here," I choke out.

"I know," he says quietly. There's nothing for a long time, our bodies shaking as we cling to each other. In our arms are the unspoken months of grief. Of his longing for our home, of my insanity. Death looms over the furniture, light hidden away lest it take away my sacred treasures I'd used to keep his spirit close to me.

"I can't lose you again," I say.

"I know," he says, smelling my hair and placing a soft kiss on top of my head. "But I can't promise stability if you follow me."

My brows furrow, my mind racing in confusion, my hopes rising. Follow?

"I know a guy," he says quickly, his arms tighter as if scared I'll turn away. "Says he can get me a new identity and a one way ticket to somewhere. I don't know where yet, but it's worth a try."

My fingers trace his back, swirling invisible patterns over his shirt. He'd always liked that after a rough day. I can feel the tension begin to slowly fall away from him at the contact, his breathing growing deeper and more steady. "And you want me to come?"

"Need," he corrects. "I don't regret leaving you, but I can't stay away. Even if it's more kind to let you mourn and find a better life."

A new life. A new identity. New name, new everything.

Maybe I am insane. Maybe this exactly the kind of mental break Billy had that day. Maybe I was doomed to follow his spirit no matter what. Maybe this is a second chance. Maybe God had granted me a mercy I'll never be able to repay, no matter how many night I spend in worship at a church or between this man's legs. Maybe I'd spend every day looking over my shoulder, paranoid and eventually turning cruel to strangers so to keep this one person everyone told me to let go of from the very beginning.

But the same Billy.

"Can he do a marriage license?" I ask after a long silence. I can hear him laugh, pulling away to look at me.

"That eager?" He asks softly, his eyes gentle, thumb stroking my cheek. I lean into his touch, softly placing a kiss on his palm.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

"Well," I say, "I already have the ring."

Masterlist

As cute as this was, please have better standards than the Reader I wrote in this fic. No man is worth that. I am DEADASS. Anyways, love y'all <3

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x you #jhutch #billy burn #billy burn x you #billy burn x reader #billy burn 2019 #burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #billy x reader

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andthekitchensinkao3 · 17 days

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WiP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags @lokimobius @kcscribbler and @thosegayoldmen 😘🥰

So, remember that post I uploaded like... this morning, about the Lokius/BG3 brainrot being real? And five minutes later, I had IDEAS?

I give you, the first draft of a fairytale prologue. Because now I have the whole thing plotted out in my head, start to finish - and NOTE TO SELF: it's gonna be A ONE-OFF FIC, not a bajillion chapters.

~***~

Once upon a time, there lived an elven lord who wanted for nothing. His wife was formidable, a warrior in her own right, and gifted with magic. They’d fought together, side by side, as long as they’d known each other. He was her blade; she was his shield. They lived for each other. They fought for justice and honour, and for a time they were happy.

But when they had their firstborn, she was fulfilled in ways her husband could not be. The lord secretly wanted more than the quietude of domestic life and a political position away from the battlefield. He longed for knowledge, and through it, power.

That longing brought him to one of the Nine Layers of Hell, where he fought all manner of demons. Wading through the darkest depths in search of enlightenment.

What he found was not knowledge. It was not power, the way he’d anticipated.

What he found was a newborn tiefling, with dark blue skin and the most vivid, orange eyes, and within the elven lord something…stirred. Compassion, for a hornéd Hellspawn.

He brought the child back home to his lady wife, whose heart swelled for the baby. She would love him forever, like one of her own. The lord dismayed. They could never raise a tiefling child. Even under their protection, he would never be safe from harm.

So it was that they took the baby to an old woman who lived in the marshlands to the south, for she was as old as time, and knowledgeable of the old magics that governed the wilderness.

“Please,” the lord begged the hag. “Make this child invisible to those who would hurt him.”

“Shield him,” begged the lady. “In ways I cannot.”

“Let him grow up as part of our family. He has no one else but us.”

The hag considered their words, and plucked the baby from its new mother’s arms. She weighed and measured him by the scope of her eye, from the tips of his black horns to the tip of his dusty blue tail. “I’ll do as you ask, my lord. Transform the boy indefinitely, in your image. He'll want for nothing, raised as an elf in such a wealthy household. Money. Status. Power.”

“In exchange for your left eye,” said the hag to the lord. “I’ll give him the prettiest face in all the land, and let him keep his innate abilities.”

The thieving parents were pleased, having thought a bargain with a bog witch would come at greater cost.

“But,” said the hag, one finger raised in warning. “My magic does not extend to the child's future offspring. Blood, like truth, will out. One way or the other.”

The lord turned to his lady wife, distraught. “Such can never come to pass. Devilspawn grandchildren bearing my name? No. The boy shall never know love,” he told the hag. “You must make it so, and he'll never want to marry.”

“No!” Said the would-be-mother. “He must know love, for that is what brought him to us.”

The hag considered this, and made her final verdict. “I promise you this: no matter the love you pour into him, it shall never be enough. Until one day, when he shall be seen for what he truly is, and neither man nor woman shall love the devil in him.”

#lokius fanfic #lokius #mobius m mobius #loki laufeyson #ao3 fanfic #lokius angst #bg3 crossover #mashup madness #what even is this thing I'ma tell you! it's awesome!#wip wednesday

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cosmicalily · 10 months

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Volcanic Love - Changbin x Reader

୨୧ a Cherry Song Fic ୨୧ inspired by Volcanic Love by The Aces

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

Genre: Angst, exes to lovers

Warnings: Breakups, loneliness

Author's Note: oh my goodness I missed writing and publishing my writing! I'm trying to be gentler on myself this time so I don't burn out...instead of focusing on consistent uploads, I'm focusing on writing and posting what I love. This was one of my favourite fics from my old writing blog before I closed it...enjoy!

Three days, twenty-three hours and fifty-nine minutes. Four days. Four days and one minute. Another sleepless night. You didn’t mean to count the minutes, but your eyes remained fixated on your phone, half watching the clock, half staring at the lock screen you’d neglected to change. Everything around you brought back floods of memories that you didn’t want to deal with. Pictures from photo booths, his arm slung around your shoulder, his hand on your cheek, his lips pressed to your forehead. The one hoodie you’d managed to hold onto, even after he’d packed all his other belongings up when he left. The pre-workout he kept in the back of your pantry. His toothbrush in your bathroom drawer. He’d been yours in every way, and you’d been his. Maybe this was why you’d been so scared to love your best friend; you knew that more came with risk, chances of slamming doors, crying each other's names, and duffle bags hastily filled. Even when you’d ended things, why were you still writing pages, when he’d been the one to close the envelope? Why were you spending hours nestled on the couch in his hoodie, staring at a black tv screen, unaware of the world around you?

<3 you home? i’m driving over.

A part of you wanted to run into the bathroom, brush your hair, remove the two-day old mascara on your eyes and change into something nice. A part of you remembered he’d seen you in every single form and knew he’d loved you regardless. His hoodie, a messy topknot and your sweatpants would do.

<3 outside.

Taking a deep breath and slipping on your sneakers, you began walking down the hallway of your apartment building. Even though the elevator wasn’t broken for once, you wanted to take the stairs. You needed time to think, and time to turn back if you felt the need. Why were you so easily coming to him? He’d broken your heart. No, not broken. Slowly tugged at it, until nothing that remained was a dull ache and your pulse. You thought about turning back, About yelling in his face, About simply bursting into tears and curling up into a ball at the bottom of the staircase, until your neighbour came and yelled at you for disturbing everyone’s sleep at 12:29am. You thought about these things, but you never felt like acting on them. What was the point, anyway? You never would have meant it. You spotted his familiar black car, the scratch on the bottom from when he’d practised parallel parking, the Sharpie stars you’d drawn with him whilst drunk on his windscreen. You felt your heart swell a little, and even more so when the figure inside the vehicle turned his head to look directly into your eyes. In silence, you walked over and sat down in the passenger seat, doing your best to look at everything but him. He nodded, pressing his lips together in a thin line, and started the engine. “I miss you,” you whispered, barely audibly. “Hm?” “Your seatbelt isn’t on,” you replied. “I was in a rush.” There was a sudden quiet. The click of his seatbelt, then yours, then the gentle hum of the car as he began to drive. You didn’t really know where, and you honestly couldn’t care less. He almost felt like a stranger. A stranger you’d poured your heart out to, and spent hours with, pressing kisses to each other's faces whilst watching movies, watching work out in the gym, cooking food for and dancing while doing the dishes with. A stranger who’d been your everything. As you drove in silence, apart from the soft beats of his playlist in the background, his hand found its way to yours, and gently caressed your fingers, as if asking for permission. You allowed your palm to open. His fingers tucked into yours, and his thumb brushed against your hand. His hand felt warm, familiar. His fingertips were calloused; a result of the way he gripped his pen when he frantically wrote his lyrics late at night. The car slowed down, then stopped completely. He’d pulled over on the side of a road, in the middle of nowhere. It was ghostly silent, and the trees cast shadows through the headlights. It was oddly comforting. “I fucked up.” “I know you did, Changbin.” He covered his face in his hands in frustration, letting go of yours in the process. Your hand felt a sudden coldness. “I didn’t…I don’t know why I left you. I nearly called you, right after I left. I thought…I thought you’d want space, thought I shouldn’t have to put you through anymore…” “I was still in love with you.” “Was? Past tense?” “I still love you. I didn’t necessarily fall out of love, Changbin, I just…I felt like I lost a part of me. Everything felt familiar and distant at the same time, and there were traces of you everywhere. I couldn’t sleep.” “I can never sleep.” “I know.” You paused, staring at each other. Changbin faced you properly. “I’m still in love with you. And I’ll try forever if it means I can make you fall again.” You smiled a little. “We should probably get some sleep.” “Your place?” “Our place. I still have your toothbrush, I think.” “Even if you don't, it doesn't matter,” Changbin replied, clasping your hand in his again and gesturing to the backseat. His duffle bag sat there, zipped up, seemingly untouched since he’d left. “I’m coming home.” “You won’t leave?” “Not unless you say so.” “So never?” “Never.”

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dynamic-power · 1 year

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The Happiness We Deserve

I've just uploaded the first 2 chapters of a multi chapter gallavich fic that I'm lowkey excited about. Here's chapter 1!

Read it on ao3 here

Mickey Milkovich does nine years for attempted murder. While he's locked up, Ian Gallagher gets himself out of Chicago.

It's been almost 15 years since they've seen each other when Ian decides it's time to come home and visit.

Mickey is in a relationship. He's got a boyfriend, he has the Alibi, and the Gallaghers who still live in Chicago are his family. He's happy. Really, he is.

Right?

Rated: E

CW: excessive use of the word fuck, no sex just fade to black (but it will eventually earn that E rating)

Mickey ended up doing nine years for the attempted murder of Sammi Gallagher.

When he got out, he managed to wait for a whole week before he found himself pacing on the porch of the Gallagher family home. It was Lip who answered the door when he finally got the balls to knock on it.

“Mickey.” Lip only looked mildly surprised to see him standing on his doorstep. Holding a hand out, he pushed Mickey back gently, just enough to step out of the house and close the door behind him. He regarded Mickey for a moment. “You look good.”

Mickey had only just turned 21 the last time he’d seen Lip. He’d changed quite a bit since then; packed on a bit of muscle and covered almost all visible skin below his chin with stick-and-poke tattoos.

Lip had changed, too. He didn’t seem as restless as he used to be; that had been replaced with the ease of a man who had accepted his lot in life. It was a good look on him, Mickey decided. “You do, too.”

They stared at each other for a few moments. Mickey knew they were both aware of why he was there, but it was clear that Lip was waiting for Mickey to say it out loud.

“Is he here?” he finally asked.

“No,” Lip replied simply.

“When-” Mickey started, pausing when his voice cracked. He cleared his throat, swallowed, tried again. “Where-”

“He left, Mick.” The words felt like a knife in Mickey’s stomach. “He got out of Chicago, 6 or 7 years ago. He hasn’t been back since.”

“Oh,” Mickey managed to say around his pounding heart and sinking stomach. “Right.”

Part of Mickey wasn’t surprised. He’d known that Ian wasn’t really going to wait for him. That part of him was proud, even, that he’d gotten out of the south side.

But another part of him, the part that had allowed his heart to crack a little more with each month that had gone by without a visit from Ian, shattered entirely.

He stood there, feeling a strange mix of desperation and finality, for nearly a whole minute before Lip finally asked, “Do you wanna come in for dinner?” He opened the front door again and Mickey heard the sound of voices coming from within over the rush of blood in his ears. “The rest of the family is here. You can come meet all of our significant others and the hellspawn that we’ve produced.”

“Uh, sure,” Mickey said, shoving his hands in his pockets and forcing a smile on his face. “I think I’d like that.”

-----

5 years later

Liam was the first Gallagher to walk into the Alibi that afternoon, and Mickey wasn’t really surprised. Carl had a great mind for plenty of things, but punctuality was not one of them.

“Where’s my brother?” Liam asked as he sat himself on one of the bar stools.

“Dunno,” Mickey grumbled. “I’m not his fuckin’ keeper.” He reached over the bar and put a hand on Liam’s head, shaking him fondly. “Want a drink?”

“Sure.”

Mickey flipped over a glass and pulled the tap. “What d’you need Carl for?”

“Lip wants a head count for dinner Monday night,” Liam said as Micey slid the beer across the bartop. He took a few large gulps and sighed, wiping his mouth on his shirt sleeve.

“Why?”

Liam shrugged. “Said he had some big news. Dunno what, though.”

“Huh.” Mickey wondered what news Lip could possibly have that required them all to be present for dinner. It must have been important; even his engagement and the conception of his last child hadn’t warrented quite this much buzz.

“You gonna be there?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Bringing Jay?”

“Nah,” Mickey said as the front door opened and Carl came barreling in wearing a sheepish grin. “He’s gonna be in California on business. Hey,” he snapped, turning to address his business partner, “the fuck you been?”

“Sorry, I-”

“You gonna be at dinner Monday?” Liam interrupted.

“Oh. Uh, yeah.”

“You have any idea what news Lip has for us?” Mickey asked as Carl passed him behind the bar.

“News? No.” Carl pulled out two shot glasses and filled them both with bottom shelf whiskey. He passed one over to Mickey. Mickey accepted it, tossing back their traditional Friday afternoon pre-open shot and clicking the empty glass twice on the bartop. Carl followed suit. “Is that why he’s been buggin’ me about it?” Carl asked through the burn of the whiskey. He passed behind Mickey again and opened the till.

“Guess so,” Mickey said. He pointed to Liam as the teen finished off the last few swallows of his beer. “Another?”

“Nah,” Liam said, slapping his hands on the bar and standing. “I’ve got plans tonight.”

“Oh, yeah, hot shot?” Mickey sneered.

“Yeah,” Liam answered with a shit-eating grin. “Meetin’ a girl at a party.”

“Shit.” Mickey waved him towards the door. “Don’t let us keep you.”

“Need a rubber?” Carl asked without looking up from the money he was counting out. “Last thing you need, college boy, is to knock some poor girl-”

“I’m fine, jackass,” Liam snapped back. “I’ll see you losers Monday.”

“Be safe, kid,” Mickey called after him as he disappeared through the front door again. “Hey, count that shit out again,” he snapped at Carl. “I don’t trust it when you try to fuckin’ count and talk at the same time.”

-----

It was nearly three in the morning before Mickey finally made it back to his apartment. He sighed heavily as he shut his front door behind him, tossing his keys in the bowl and kicking his shoes off without caring where they ended up. As he turned towards his kitchen, he nearly jumped out of his skin as someone came out of his bedroom.

“Jesus,” he breathed, clutching one hand to his chest as his boyfriend, Jay Flores, grinned goofily at him from the hallway. “Fuckin’ scared the shit outta me.” He crossed the living room quickly, stepping into Jay’s open arms. He pressed his face into Jay’s bare shoulder and pulled him closer by the hips. “Didn’t think you’d be here.”

“I wanted to wake up next to you one last time this week, querido, ” Jay said into his hair, voice thick with sleep.

“Fuckin’ gay.”

“Yeah, a bit.”

“What time is your flight?” Mickey asked, pulling back just enough to peer up at Jay.

“Too fuckin’ early. Eight, I think. Taxi is gonna be here at five thirty.”

“There’s lots we can do before then.”

“I should really sleep a little bit more-”

“Sleep on the fuckin’ plane.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jay agreed easily. He leaned down and pressed his filthy grin to Mickey’s in a poor attempt at a kiss. They were both smiling too wide to really make it good, but neither of them really cared as they pushed each other back into the bedroom.

------

Part 2

#gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #fanfiction ao3 #shameless #fanfic #dyno writes #the happiness we deserve

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here-is-kia · 6 months

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I haven’t been writing for a while, I feel terrible about it. Since now I have always used my laptop and used Grammarly before uploading here. Right now it is 5:43 am, in the middle of Ramadan, school is closed because of it. I need to study, I know, but I can’t bring myself to do it. It takes too much of my time, and my efforts fucking always goes unnoticed. Expected, I know. My laptop is fucking broken and useless now, I can barely use it. Day by day I am losing my sanity because of it. I have no will whatsoever. I begged to die yesterday, crying and shivering. Pathetic. Couldn’t even stop. I wish my parents would see me as a human instead of a puppet who should just focus on their studies. They want the good for me, but what’s the point if every single word they make me want to crawl out of my skin? Staying with them for over three minutes is painful. I want to be myself. To be free. I can understand and see my mother’s thoughts, I can feel them. Like a hand is holding a vein between my heart and neck. It’s not fair. How my father treats my younger sister, how my mother is different to her. Few days ago, well actually two days ago- Me and my sister cried in each other’s arms complaining about life. She is fucking 9. Nine. She says life is too hard, how she thought pain is fictional. She saw a childhood video of mine, and it shocked her how different i had become. Trauma can change you, some people have it harder, you may not remember and intellectualise your past. My mother has a lot of opinions, and I know the existence of it. Just because she ‘loves’ me doesn’t mean I feel loved by her, she oversees my screams, and tears. I am genuinely disgusted by her. If I were a mother, I vow I wouldn’t be like her. She thinks she is the best in the whole world, she ‘thinks’ she lets us do whatever we want. She simply doesn’t ‘parent’ us. She never will. And my father is… ugh. Saying anything about him brings tears to my eyes, it fact there are tears in my eyes right now. He cares, but I did wish if he just left me fucking Alone. I want my own life. I fucking hate my parents. I am being ungrateful and don’t fucking care anymore. They simply don’t fucking understand how fucking hard it is to get these grades. How can ALL of your three kids be suicidal? One is 9, another is fucking 7 and tried to kill hi self with a knife. I don’t even know if they are blind or are just ignoring everything. Mother likes to hide from father. I hate her. I hate it when I tell her my grades and she doesn’t tell father, father thought I hide my grades from him. I didn’t correct him. It hurts. I have my ambitions and all, please just give me a fucking break. From all your fucking expectations and opinions. I hate my mother. I tell her I love her every now and then, I am simply lying. I joke around and shit, but I can’t stand it anymore. I am a Muslim, a mighty believer too. I can’t run away when I get older, no matter how much I want to. Maybe I can, hopefully. Though death seems more easy, still begging your God to take away your life but still let you go to heaven is like begging your teacher to let you leave the exam hall and still let you pass. When will I be free? When? Never? I want freedom, I hate my mother’s thoughts and opinions, I can fucking feel them. It makes me want to crawl out of my skin. She thinks she is the best mother there is, yet all she does she buy endlessly for her little dolls and argue how I have tons of clothes. She hates me, I am too ugly for her. I know. I hope she— no I don’t even want her to know about the pain she had caused us. She is too stubborn and would cry like a child. It’s sadly really, to be trapped your whole life. I can never be alone, I hate them. I hate taking the blame always. It’s not like my father is the capable man he thinks he is. I want to die.

Actually you know what? I don’t want to be away from a family, I want to spend time with a family, I want to joke around with a family(I mean I am already a laughing subject no matter how amazing my grades and weight are.) I just can’t stand this one. I am far too disgusted by them. Far, far too disgusted. In Ramadan, your Naf is still with you, maybe this is who I actually am. A pathetic emotional child. A worthless being. What benefit would my parents get from my successful future, that I do not know. I think they want me to succeed so they can feel like they accomplished something. I can never be my own person. I hate them. Even if parents have their own problems, their children still shouldn’t all be fucking in love with death.

Here, death is not a fear but a privilege. The children envies people who experience death. They want to physically(my sister said to me that day) harm themselves for attention. Please, you are fucking busy but you are a parent. They aren’t parenting, they are slacking off, giving us the basic human needs then taking a break. I was never enough, will never be. I am worthless, and if my fucking mother says ‘Oh Sweetie no! Who told you that!?’ In her honeyed voice, I will kill her. I probably won’t— but it will still be my breaking point js—

Freedom, heaven, today I saw a comment on a reel on Instagram, saying the prophet said life is a prison to the believers and paradise to the non-believers. It is kind of like a sign, of course life is not a paradise to everyone. I am doubting the authenticity of the translation. The last sentence doesn’t sound correct, it certainly is not from the Quran. It says ‘prison’ not hell, so I don’t think the is actually ‘paradise’. I did like how it said ‘prison’ though, a sign hopefully. It just gives you that shed of hope every delusional teenager with trauma likes to cling into.

-6:39 including time taken for tags :P

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kittyt-hexxed · 2 years

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Grayson's True Prodigy (Sevika x POC!Reader) - Ch.9

Masterlist

Next Upload Date: February 20th

Act 1: Chapter Nine - A New Beginning

Warnings: Funeral, Grief, Anger, Running Away, Keeping up appearances, Waking up in hospital, Loss of limb (Sevika), Loss of Eye (Mylo)

Summary: It’s time for Grayson’s funeral, and Sevika wakes up to two new revelations.

You stayed up the night before the funeral double-checking the things you packed. You made sure that things were securely wrapped like your little wooden dragon and sundial compass. Cardin had slipped you a note saying that they would be leaving immediately after the funeral. Knowing the way that the Hiranas travel, they would be taking the private boat back to Ionia that Orum captains. You could slip away during the chaos of the midday rush and no one would know any better.

A few hours before dawn, you light a dozen candles and start to get ready for the funeral. You take a seat at your desk and delicately braid your hair before wrapping it up into a bun. You pick up your staff in its hairpin form and use it to keep your hair up. You take a moment to stare at yourself in the mirror. The earrings in your ears glitter happily as you put all of them in. ‘If it wasn’t for the hair, no one would be able to tell that I belong to the Kiramman Clan. I wonder how I would look with my natural hair.’ You think before taking down your robes.

Your robes for the occasion are white with red oak leaves as decoration around the hemlines. You can’t help the tears that well up in your eyes as you observe it. ‘Mama loved the red oaks that surrounded the monastery. That’s why red was her favorite color.’ You smile sadly and slip into the robe. The sash was a beautiful red and white ombré that brought the whole thing together. Your heart aches as you wish that she could see you in this. ‘I need to control my emotions today or I’ll ruin the funeral. Water won’t help with the fire.’

With how slow you went, by the time you finished getting ready, it was time to leave. You smooth out your robes one last time and nod in approval. ‘Not a single hair is out of place and my sash is tied perfectly. It only took me ten tries to learn how to do it.’

“Y/n!” Grayson laughs as she struggles to tie your sash around your waist, “Y/n, hold still!” You giggle and continue to move around so she can’t tie it.

“You’re the one who said I tied it wrong, so you have to struggle to fix it!” You joke and she lightly flicks your nose. You yelp and stop moving as a result, giving her the moment she needs to tie it. You pout as she grins in victory.

You weren’t looking forward to being in front of so many people, but you wouldn’t let that hold you back.

“Miss Kiramman?” A knock sounds at your door, “There is a young gentleman outside who says that he’s here to escort you to the funeral.” You shake your head fondly and open the door. The family butler, who you still haven’t learned the name of, motions to the hallway.

“Thank you, I’ll be down in a moment. Have my parents left for the funeral yet?” You question him.

“No, miss. They will not be departing for another thirty minutes. Would you like for me to inform them that you’ve left earlier?” Your butler tilts his head.

“Yes, thank you.” You nod before stepping back into your room. You wait for a few minutes to pass by before grabbing your bag, tossing it over your shoulder, and taking a deep breath. You give one last look around your room and nod to yourself. ‘Everything is neatly put away and my note is somewhere noticeable. Once they come looking for me, they’ll think that I’ve taken a ship to Demacia. No one here will know where I’ve gone.’ You head out of the room and carefully make your way to the front door. You knew the best direction to go to avoid being seen by any staff. It would be questionable if they saw you with your travel bag.

With one last glance around, you open the front doors and slip out. Cardin smirks when he sees you and holds out a hand for the bag. You toss it at him and start heading for the gate without hesitation. Once you’re through, you wink at Cardin and he vanishes in the direction of the docks. You spend some time thinking about the past few days as you walk by yourself. Your mother really showed her true colors when she came knocking on your door.

“Y/n, this is ridiculous! You will come down to the dining room for your meals. I understand that this is a tough time for the family but you must come down. It’s not polite or ladylike to refuse to come out of your room.” Your mother scolds you, “Your sister has shown up for her meals. Do you want her to eat alone?” The bitterness that curled in your chest made you laugh sardonically into your pillow. ‘For the family. Caitlyn. Nothing is ever about me. I can’t even grieve without being ridiculed.’

“May I offer you my sword as a companion?” Cardin inquires as he comes up beside you. ‘Ionians are raised differently.’ You chuckle to yourself. You appreciate the sentiment of his words. It was his way of asking if you’d like to be vulnerable with him.

“I would like that.” You playfully bump shoulders with him.

“The Great Gray Lion was a fierce warrior. Her presence will be missed by hundreds.” Cardin comforts you.

“A hundred cannot compare to the grief in my heart, Cardin.” You say softly, “Mama was more than the stories tell of her, and I will make sure that she is entombed in history.”

You turn onto the street the cemetery is connected to and pause at the large crowd of people waiting outside. A squad of Enforcers was keeping people held back as the workers walked in and out of the gates. ‘The public knows that my sister and I were always around her. They’ll swarm me if I’m not careful.’ Cardin nudges you and holds his arm out as his hand rests on the hilt of his sword. You suddenly realize why Cardin was sent to escort you here and you sigh in relief. You grip his arm and let him take the lead so you were slightly covered by his figure. ‘It’ll be like this all morning until I’m safely on the boat to Ionia. People will try to come up to me and talk or reporters will try to get some kind of inside story.’

As you get closer to the cemetery, the crowd of people notices you approaching and you nervously step closer to Cardin, “Be prepared.” You whisper to him.

“I’m insulted you think I’m not already, Miss Hirana.” Cardin playfully drawls quietly. You giggle at his words and take a deep breath. ‘Head up, shoulders back, stand tall, and don’t let them know how nervous you actually are.’ You remind yourself of your speech lessons.

“Miss Kiramman!”

“Miss Kiramman, can we have a word with you?!”

“Who’s that young man with you?!”

“Miss Kiramman, what are you wearing?!”

“Miss Kiramman!”

“Miss Kiramman, where’s your family?!” They call out to you over and over again as you’re hurriedly guided into the cemetery. Enforcers rush to the blockade to hold the crowd back and they close the gates behind you. You let out the breath that you were holding and relax your posture. You lift your head and gaze around the cemetery, feeling your heart clench when you see the area they designated for your mama. The imagery took your breath away and caused tears to well up in your eyes. A wooden pyre had been formed with dozens of flowers decorating the base of it. Your eyes linger on the wrapped body covered up by flowers and you frown. You let go of Cardin’s arm and move closer to the flowers to pour a bit of magic into them. You smile in satisfaction as they brighten up and straighten out. ‘We can’t send mama off with dying flowers.’

“What kind of flowers are they?” Cardin asks.

“Pink hydrangeas, white carnations, and red spider lilies.” You point them out.

“We call them death lilies.” Marcus approaches you, “It’s bad luck to find them at graves.” He says as he stops in front of you.

“Deputy Marcus.” You nod at him, a bit of annoyance rising.

“In Ionia, they’re seen as a blessing. We weave them around the pyres so that the deceased may be guided through the afterlife.” Master Jess informs Marcus, “Don’t you find cultures wonderful?” She places her hand on your shoulder and smiles at you.

“Yes, Master Jess.” You agree with her, “How have preparations been going?”

“Everything is in place, sweet girl.” Master Jess smooths your hair, “Let me get a look at you.” She steps back and you slowly turn around for her.

“You’ve tied your sash properly!” Master Haruli playfully gasps as she throws her arms around you, “Now who would have thought that’s possible?” She jokes. You giggle as she picks you up in a hug.

“Deputy Marcus.” Master Teylin’s voice sounds from behind you, “The rest of the attendees are on their way, if you’d please make sure they can get in safely.” She subtly orders him. Marcus nods with a glance at you before he heads for the gate. You turn and find yourself looking at your grandmothers along with June and Zenita, who are all dressed in white robes. You take a moment to observe them, the way they interact with each other and carry themselves. At first glance, you couldn’t tell that they were grieving until you looked closer. They were all wearing something that symbolized or came from Grayson. Your aunt and uncle come over to you with their arms outstretched. For some reason, this is what makes the tears fall. You hug them and they hold you tightly.

“This is the first time we're meeting as family.” June whispers, “I wish we met before this.”

“June is right, my niece, but I hope you’ll allow for us to bond anyway.” Zenita says, brushing her silver hair over her shoulder.

“I wouldn’t deny you that.” You wipe away your tears, “Especially after…” You trail off and glance at the pyre. You swallow thickly, your good mood quickly turning sour. As if sensing your mood change, June gives you a squeeze.

“You’re to sit with us.” June slowly guides you to a small group of seats to the left of the pyre, “Even if they don’t know you’re real family, you were the closest to her. Let them whisper all they want.” You sit down and take a moment to steady yourself. ‘Remember, control your emotions or it’s going to be a downpour.’ You remind yourself as people are allowed in through the gates. Most people go straight to their seats but some approach the pyre to leave flowers or small gifts. You catch sight of your family but Cardin steps in your line of sight before they can notice you. You give him a questioning glance and he points to the reporters who have come into the cemetery. You frown but nod in understanding. You turn your gaze back to the pyre and stare blankly at it. If you thought too much about what was to come, you’d burst into tears.

You blink and the next thing you know, you’re being yanked out of your chair and pressed against Cardin’s chest. You hear the soft snick of his katana being drawn and shocked exclamations coming from the crowd. You look up at him but his eyes are trained on someone behind you.

“Back away!” Cardin growls coldly, “You’re not to disturb Miss Kiramman.”

“I-I just want to ask her a question!” Comes a very nervous-sounding voice, but it’s not familiar to you. You wanted to see what was going on, but your position didn’t allow you to. ‘Imagine if I had come with my family. I wouldn’t have made it through the gates.’

“She is in mourning, and will not be answering any questions.” Cardin hisses, “Now step back or you’ll learn why I’m her guard for the event.” There’s a tense moment before Cardin releases you from his grasp and you straighten out your robe. You glance around to see the majority of the people looking in your direction, including your family. Cardin sheaths his sword and gives you a concerned look-over.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” Cardin frowns.

“No. Thank you.” You pat him on the shoulder and he nods at you. The bell chimes signaling the start of the ceremony and everyone takes their seats except for Councilor Heimerdinger who takes his position at the front.

“Thank you to everyone who has come to commemorate our beloved Sheriff, Grayson. As a cadet in the Academy, her professors said that she shined brighter than her peers. Grayson completed her projects with a drive of someone who wanted to make a change, and she eventually became that very person.” Councilor Heimerdinger opens the speech, “When she graduated the Academy, all of her professors sent recommendation letters to the then Sheriff… Very quickly, Grayson became known around Piltover as an Enforcer that got things done. She never had a single complaint against her and everyone she interacted with seemed to love her. That reputation only grew the longer she remained in the force and when the Sheriff retired, she was the first candidate they chose for the job… Ever since she swore in, the crime in the isthmus had dropped dramatically. Sheriff Grayson will be missed.” You lean your head against Zenita’s shoulder and she puts her arm around you. You can feel the grief starting to set in and you need the comfort.

“Working under Sheriff Grayson was an honor. She was talked about highly in my years at the Acadamy and I quickly learned that all of it was true. From my first days on the force, she became a huge inspiration to me and other junior Enforcers. She pushed us… to do our best… and encouraged us to remember that the people’s safety relied on us.” Marcus addresses the crowd, “I was there when she- when she died… and the Sheriff never stopped protecting the people. She never stopped being the woman I looked up to.” You hide your face in Zenita’s shoulder as the tears sting your eyes. You feel your Grandmother Haruli’s hand rub your arm before she gives your hand a squeeze. After Marcus, more people went up to give their speeches or share their experiences. Some made you chuckle as they shared funny stories and others made you angry as they lied about their interactions with Grayson. You held your breath when your mother stood up and took the stand. Part of you didn’t want her to say anything, but the other part of you was intrigued by what she was going to say.

“As most of you know, Grayson was a friend of the family. She was there for both of our daughters’ births and would come over quite regularly for events… Grayson was a woman who had strong morals and did what she thought was right for the betterment of others. She took Caitlyn under her wing from a young age and taught her how to shoot while reminding her of the reason Enforcers do their jobs. She was always encouraging the new generation and took the time to answer their questions. Grayson… can never be replaced. Her death is a loss the entire community will mourn for a while.” Your mother speaks out and you have to choke back a laugh through your tears. ‘I wasn’t even mentioned once, even though Grayson trained me, too. That’s my mother for you. She’s the same even at your funeral, mama.’

“And with that…” Your mother clears her throat, “I’d like to welcome Grayson’s family to Piltover. Her mothers, the Masters of Hirana Monastery, and her siblings… June, an Ionian Sundancer, and her sister, Zenita… who is a guardian of one of the country’s sacred sites.” Your mother gestures over to your group and that’s when the whispers start. Grandmother Teylin stands and replaces your mother at the podium.

“Thank you for all of your wonderful stories about our daughter. Our Gray always had a kind heart that she gave to others who needed it. She grew up among monks at the monastery, but she felt more called to go out and protect others than to become one. At the age of fourteen, she left our home to travel the world and came to Piltover to live. Her first words to me about this city were that it has potential, and that’s what she liked about it… When she told my sisters and me about her career choice, we warned her that it would be dangerous.” Grandmother Teylin’s words make laughter bubble up in your throat. You laugh and wipe away your tears as the others laugh with you. You could see some puzzled looks from the attendees who wouldn’t understand why you found it funny.

“Gray had a zest for life that brought a light to our family. She had a special heart and it’s with great joy that she introduced us to a child with a heart just as special as hers.” Grandmother Teylin turns to you and beckons you forward. You blink in shock but she holds her hand out to you and Zenita and Grandmother Haruli nudge you. You stand up and nervously approach her, grabbing her hand and letting her pull you next to her. You look out at the crowd and remind yourself to stand tall. ‘I am here for mama. There is nothing these people can say that’ll affect me.’

“Y/n was brought into our lives six years ago, and it has been the brightest six years of our lives. Gray spoke about her in every letter she sent home, talking about how much she adored her and that Y/n reminded her of why she chose to become the sheriff.” Grandmother Teylin smiles down at you as you look at her in awe, “It’s only right that she gets the closing statement.” Your eyes widen and you feel panic flit through you.

“Grandmother, I haven’t prepared anything!” You whisper to her in a panic.

“Speak from your heart, my granddaughter.” Grandmother Teylin kisses your forehead and steps aside for you. You swallow nervously but approach the microphone anyway. The people in the crowd perk up as you do and you can see the confused faces looking back at you. You were the quiet Kiramman. The one people didn’t hear about because your mother didn’t talk about you. It wasn’t until Grayson took you in that you started to meet people. Some… didn’t even know that your family had two daughters. And while staring out at this crowd of people, you realize that Piltover isn’t your home. It never has been and that made the words come tumbling out.

“Grayson showed me the world.” You say strongly, “She took me with her on sabbatical and taught me more than I ever imagined I could learn. She showed me the place where she grew up and I had the privilege of meeting her family… and learning what she once did.” You present your robes proudly, “I am honored to be able to wear these robes in honor of Grayson. I am touched to hear that she held me in such high regards… because-...” You choke up as the tears start flowing. You take a deep breath and try to calm yourself down enough to speak, “Because she was everything to me and I loved her. I admire her so much. Her strength. Her humility. Her drive to protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves and the kindness she had for everyone… She was a light that was taken too soon, and she will never be forgotten.” You glance at the Hirana family and they stand up to surround the pyre, “So this is where I say to you… Grayson Hirana, our Great Gray Lion, protector, and Shaman! May the spirits welcome you with open arms and you continue to protect us even though you are not with us anymore!” You go to step aside but Grandmother Jess grabs your hand and hands you a match.

“You’re one of us.” Grandmother Jess whispers, “You do this with us.” You smile at her as more tears fall and listen for the count of three before striking your match. You toss the match onto the pyre and step back as the fire comes alive. You stare into the fire before it all hits you and you break down. You fall to your knees and sob as the heat of the fire brushes across your face. ‘You’re gone, mama. Gone. Why do you have to be gone? Why did it have to be you?’

You sat by the pyre for a while before Orum picked you up. All he said to you is that people who were in Grayson’s Will were being called to the Charter Building. You had asked him to put you down, but when he raised an eyebrow at you, you let him carry you the whole way. At the entrance to the building, Orum put you down and you didn’t bother to fix your robes. You made your way inside and you were offered a tissue and some water when you sat down. The doors opened again and your family walked in, making you feel awkward. Caitlyn saw you and immediately came over to give you a hug. You froze before slowly hugging her back as the Hirana family came inside, followed by Marcus and a few other people.

“I’ve been told that everyone is here.” A man comes from the back, “My name is Garrett, and I am Grayson’s Will executioner. First and foremost, everything you will be given is final. You may not try to confiscate anything from another person or demand more. If you do, there is a clause in Grayson’s Will to revoke what you were originally given and it will go to charity… Now, the first people on the Will are her mothers. If you would please follow me to my office.” He says before disappearing down the hallway. Your grandmothers follow him as your aunt and uncle keep a watchful eye on you and Caitlyn. ‘I wonder what mama left for me… I didn’t expect her to leave me anything when I already have so much from her.’

“Your speech was beautiful.” Caitlyn says with a soft smile, “And, you look beautiful in your robes.”

“Thank you.” You respond, “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant.”

“That’s okay. You were closer to her than I was.” Caitlyn rests her hand on your shoulder, “I understand.”

“That… doesn’t mean you weren’t close to her, though. So, don’t discount your own grief.” You remind her, “Grayson loved you, too.”

“Thanks, sis.” Caitlyn whispers and you fall into silence. Your grandmothers come out and your aunt and uncle are called into the back. You sigh and slouch into the couch, not caring about appearances or anything. It wasn’t long before your aunt and uncle came out with Garrett.

“Miss Y/n?” Garrett calls as he looks around the room. You make eye contact with him as you stand and he beckons you down the hallway. You follow him in silence until you’re into the office and he closes the door behind you.

“First, I’d like to offer you my condolences. I’ve been the one in charge of your mother’s Will since she joined the Enforcers, and she has left us too soon.” Garrett sighs as he flips through his files.

“Wait, you know that Grayson is my mother?” You straighten up in surprise.

“Yes and I’m aware of your lineagefasting. While it has been deemed lost to time, there are still clauses for it in our laws… but that’s for another time.” Garrett gives you a smile, “Now, onto what your mother left you… ‘To my daughter, Y/n Hirana, I leave behind my apartment in the Middle Ring so that she may have a place to stay when she’s in need… along with every item that I haven’t marked for donation. I leave her with my travel bag and all of the items I have locked within it. Most importantly, I leave behind the bank account I created for her and everything within it.” He takes out two sets of keys, a card, and Grayson’s travel bag. You hold your breath as you reach out and brush your fingers over it. It was covered in patches from all of the places she visited and as you shakily lift one of the handles you see your name sewed into it.

“All you have to do is sign that you’ve received these items and you’re good to go.” Garrett hands you a pen and slides a document over to you. Your scan the page first to make sure you weren’t signing for anything else. When you were satisfied with what you didn’t find, you sign your name and hand it back to him.

“About the lineagefasting…” You trail off uncertainly.

“Once you choose which name to keep, you can send me a letter and I’ll switch things around for you.” Garrett says kindly.

“Can we do that right now?” You ask.

“Of course!” Garrett chuckles and slides another paper towards you, “Grayson said you might say that, so I had it on hand.” You can’t help the small laugh that escapes your lips. You hurriedly fill out the form and stare down at it before nodding in determination.

“Here you go.” You slide it back across the desk before grabbing your items and standing, “Where’s the bathroom if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Down the hall, third door on your right.” Garrett points, “And… despite the circumstances, it was nice to meet you, Miss Hirana.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Garrett.” You nod at him and head to the bathroom. You lock the door behind you and gingerly place the bag on the floor. You look at yourself in the mirror and shake your head. ‘This is now or never, Y/n.’ It only takes you a few seconds to take off your robe and fold it up. You reach into your hoodie pocket and pull out the drawstring bag it came in. You drop them into there along with your keys and card, before slinging it across your back. You let your hair down, tucking it into your hoodie and pulling the hood up. ‘Gotta pin that in place so my hood doesn’t fall.’ You grin at the cat ears you sewed onto the hood before grabbing the travel bag and heading for the window.

‘I don’t think this is why you taught me how to open a window, mama… but this is what I’m using it for.’ You mentally apologize as you pop the window open. You toss your bag out before jumping through and pulling yourself out. You let out a soft grunt as your feet hit the pavement. With a wave of your hand, the window reseals itself and you grin in success.

“Ready to go, Miss Hirana?” Cardin smirks as he kicks off of the wall next to you. He was dressed in casual clothes instead of the robes from earlier.

“Ready.” You grin, pick up your bag and run for the entrance of the alleyway. Cardin laughs and grabs your hand, guiding you down to the docks. You stop running once you’re a good distance from the Charter Building. Your heart is racing from the running but also from what you’re doing. ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this! They’re going to be so pissed off!’

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do?” Cardin glances at you as you reach the dock entrance.

“I’m going cliff diving.” You say seriously, “I need a good swim.”

“Can I tag along?” Cardin asks excitedly, “Can I bring the crew?”

“You and your crew are welcome.” You giggle, “But, aren’t you going hunting once you get home?”

“Yes. Yes, he is.” Orum smirks down from on the boat, “Buut, I guess we can hold off for a day.” He winks and holds his hand out. You hand him the travel bag before jumping up and grabbing his hand. Orum pulls you onto the boat and you’re instantly dragged away by Zenita. She takes you into the cabin of the boat as the engine starts up. They wanted to be out on the water before they sent people to look for you.

“She’s here!” Zenita announces and you’re happily greeted by your family.

“I’ve officially left the Kiramman name behind.” You announce, “Once I’m eighteen, all of my records in Piltover will switch over and be adjusted.”

“I’d say welcome to the family, but you’ve been a part of it for a while now.” June grins.

“Now, come here and give your grandmother a hug!” Grandmother Jess playfully demands. With a giggle, you go over to her and give her a hug. You spend some time down in the cabin until you’re told that you’re clear of Piltover. You head out onto the deck and let your hoodie down as you approach the railing. You stare out at the water as an indescribable feeling washes over you. ‘I’ve left, mama. You may not be here, but I left. I’m going home. I’m going to Ionia.’

“How do you feel?” Grandmother Haruli leans against the railing next to you.

“Honestly…” You take a moment to find the word, “Free. I feel free, grandmother.” You say blissfully. ‘Even though mama is gone… I feel free.’

The first thing Sevika noticed when she woke up was the lack of feeling in her left arm. Then it was the quiet voices and soft snorting that had her opening her eyes. The room was dim with the only light coming from the lanterns hanging beside her. Sevika furrows her brow when she feels a weight next to her side. She looks over and sees Powder snuggled up against her, hands protectively holding the hospital gown where her arm should be. ‘Powder?’ Sev reaches out and touches the blue-haired girl’s head to verify she’s not hallucinating.

“Hey, Sev.” Krow’s silky voice has her turning to her right, “It’s nice to see you awake.”

“Bonesaw says there was no way to save your arm. He and the nurses tried to find one but any attempt woulda ended up with the ‘grene.” Ran sighs, running a hand through their hair, “You’re gonna have’ta augment.”

“I’d rather lose my arm than my life.” Sevika rasps. Gangrene wasn’t something she wanted to mess with, “I’m fine with augmenting. That won’t be an issue for me, but how are the kids? I can see one of them.” She motions to Powder.

“Ah, the chipmunk refused to leave your side once she was cleared by the healers. You came outta surgery and she’s been here ever since.” Robin grins, tossing her red braid over her shoulder, “Said you need someone here for you if you woke up before they said you would.”

“And the other two?” Sevika asks, gently stroking Powder’s hair. ‘The kid really stayed with me? She doesn’t even know me that well, yet she cares enough about me to stay?’

“Claggor will make a full recovery. Doc’s impressed. Said he’s got a skull of steel to only get a cracked bone.” Ran shrugs, “Mylo lost his right eye. It got ruptured by some debris, but again, he’s lucky to be alive.”

“Did he choose to augment?”

“Nah.” Krow shakes her head, “Glass eye and fake cover. He didn’t want to deal with the upkeep an augment would require. Doc is gonna give him the option again when he’s eighteen.”

“Okay.” Sevika sighs, “Did they find Violet?”

“…No. We searched the last place her sister saw her, but there… was a lot of blood, Sev. The kid has been marked as missing for now, but people are suspecting she might be dead.”

“That’s a conversation we’re going to have to have with Powder.” Sevika frowns, glancing at the young girl.

“So we’re taking the kids in?” Robin smirks, “You sure about that, boss?”

“I owe it to Vander.” Sevika says sternly, “He took us in, didn’t he? I’d be an asshole if I let his kids live on the streets. They wouldn’t last without Vi.”

“Oh, one more thing before we let the Doc know you’re up.” Ran gives a sly smile, making Sevika raise an eyebrow, “You’ve been chosen as the next leader of Zaun. The vote was unanimous.”

“What was the deciding factor?” Sevika blinks.

“People respect you. And, taking an explosion to the face and living only makes you scarier.”

“I guess it’s up to me to change this shitty place.” Sevika snorts, “Who would’ve thought I’d go from gang leader to Zaun’s Leader.”

#sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika x y/n #sevika fanfic #sevika arcane #sevika #grayson arcane #grayson's true prodigy

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lastweeksshirttonight · 7 months

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What is this?? Lee actually following up on promises of posting longform writing??? I know, I'm scared too.

Last Lee Tonight (wherein Lee quotes noted political commentator Olivia Rodrigo) Season One, Episode Nine

(Original air date: 6/29/2014) Topics covered: Burwell v. Hobby Lobby, LGBT rights and discrimination in Uganda

Trigger warning: discussions of homophobia

"That is why I, personally, refuse to pay for Mennonite cabinets. Because Jason Bourne could, conceivably, beat someone to death with one of those things."

Because the last time I posted one of these reviews was (checks notes) August 2023, a brief recap of where we are in terms of the season developing is in order. Episode Eight was the first time the entire main story was put on LWT's YouTube page, after a very... scattershot approach to uploading segments onto social media. The show is also coming into its own - although the recap of the week segments are bouncing between being extremely surface-level, sometimes only one joke long, and closer to the current iteration of a small yet rigorous dive into a relevant topic for a few minutes before the main topic, the main stories are beginning to take longer form, even though they are still tied to the idea of the show being immediately relevant.

This episode is one of the few I think is, with a few exceptions, almost completely available on the LWT YouTube page worldwide. Both major segments are uploaded, as well as an extended interview segment. Looking forward, they do experiment with the idea of breaking up most of the episodes and loading them onto YouTube for the rest of season one. At least they're actually, um, loading the main parts of the episodes on YouTube from here on out. As I've said many times before, no one had any idea what kind of show LWT was supposed to be or what it would become.

Another fun fact - apparently you can no longer screenshot these episodes I bought on YouTube on my desktop with PrtSc. What the fuck. Is up. With that?! (aaaah~) Fuck you business daddy you complete sack of daddy-shaped shit. (Clearly I have my ways of getting around this, even if the screenshots seem a bit blurry to me, but... fucking hell, I'm just trying to take a screenshot OF SOMETHING I PAID FOR.)

ANYWAYS. There's an episode of LWT we're ostensibly discussing!

Our first topic is the 2014 World Cup. England has been knocked out, so the tournament is dead to John. Oh John. So innocent. So full of life. You have no clue about the shitstorm you're gonna drop on FIFA's doorstep next season.

At the World Cup, an Uruguayan player, Luis Suarez, bit an Italian player, something I totally forgot about. He also bit TWO OTHER PEOPLE. John calls the Italian player "a delicious piece of prime Italian steak" - I forgot that chaotic bisexuality has been baked into this show from day one but I love it.

(Based on the only hate comment I've ever received, I know someone will probably deign to tell me that John is not bisexual, which... I know. But the writing of this show has chaotic bisexual energy - in some seasons, like the one where John begs Adam Driver to chokeslam him into a table regularly, energy honestly isn't a strong enough word to describe whatever's going on - and I like acknowledging that element of the show.)

John mentions the week has been awash with depressing terrorism news but leads into a segment about Boko Haram being driven out of their hiding places by snakes and bees, an incredible victory for the scariest parts of nature. John is furious that scorpions have instead decided to hide in bananas in supermarkets instead of fighting terrorism. John's grin after delivering that joke is effervescent. He loves this kind of stupid, "now THAT'S a sentence"-style joke.

He's so happy y'all

We take a hard left turn into discussing Syria, and that the US is looking to send money to "appropriately vetted" rebel soldiers. The obvious question is asked - how do you vet rebel soldiers? John suggests a trade-school-style commercial to recruit potential rebel soldiers. (The offer is open to bees and snakes!) One thing I like about the early episodes that does still come through from time to time on the show are these sorts of Daily Show-style fake commercials and PSAs. They can get repetitive after seeing the segments they're covering, but there's usually some fun twists and chances for some real absurdities and escalations you can't do in the show proper.

Our first real segment follows after this, on Burwell v Hobby Lobby. You may remember this as the court case that allowed for Hobby Lobby, a crappy JoAnn's knockoff run by evangelical Christians who also stole artifacts for a bible museum, to not pay for an employee's birth control through the Affordable Care Act because it went against their religion. As a corporation. Because corporations are people now. God this country sucks.

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At the time of airing, this decision hadn't been made yet by the Supreme Court, so John is going over the details of the case, including the questions at the center of it - do corporations have freedom of religion, and are corporations people? John confidently says "no" before realizing he has to actually discuss this, and I really want to live in 2014 John World. This whole segment has a lovely capper extending two ideas to their logical, absurd extremes - government cannot be an a la carte system, something John demonstrates by showing a wild variety of things people don't want to spend their taxes on which starts fairly even-keel but spirals into Fox News talking heads saying that their tax dollars are being spent on Mexican prostitutes. And on the flip-side, if corporations are people, well, people die. Amongst other things.

Something that's been a bit lost about this case in the ten years since is that a Mennonite sect that owned a kitchen cabinet making company also sued the government over providing birth control. I totally forgot about that.

Our "And Now This" segment is on politicians misusing the word 'literally'. Chris Traeger literally adored this segment. (It's short and is exactly what you'd expect. Not much to say here.)

The next segment is on LGBTQIA+ rights in Uganda. Interestingly, John introduces this segment by saying "finally tonight..." despite being only 12 minutes into a 30 minute show. Definitely had me checking the clock in confusion.

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I appreciate that John opens this segment not sugarcoating anything happening to LGBTQIA+ individuals in Uganda, even before he gets into the details of the anti-gay laws there. While there's been segments prior that have been obviously extremely serious, this is the first one that feels like John is coming from a place of seriousness first, jokes second. There are plenty of jokes, yes, lots of very funny ones. But when you compare how this segment opens, with no frills or equivocating, to even the Hobby Lobby segment earlier this episode, there's a pretty obvious difference.

People really didn't know how to react to the line "the moral arc of the universe is long, and it bends away from Uganda." There's like one scattered laugh at that. I'm pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be a joke.

A lot of the details of this segment are deeply upsetting, especially post-Trump in a world where it feels like freedoms are rolling back everywhere and extremist hatemongers like Scott Lively are being treated more and more seriously. The fact that he was laughed at here in the past is refreshing, but knowing that he'd likely be a top senate candidate now is so distressing. There's a lot of things that can be seen in this show in hindsight, most of them so far more benign than this. Unfortunately, the exportation of homophobia now looks less like the death throes of a dying political position, as John posits here from 2014, and more like a big factor in sowing the seeds for this last decade's right-wing global surge.

That being said, Pepe Julian Onziema is a true portrait of grace under fire. The interview with Onziema in the show is extremely illuminating, the kind of interview that makes me wish John did more interviews. Onziema is a delight - I love his seriousness in speaking to the realities of living as an LGBT+ person in Uganda, and his bravery in fighting this fight despite the looming threat of severe prison time. Relatedly, "Sorry doesn't cut it" is such a great comeback to John apologizing for being part of two groups of people that brought this wave of homophobia to Uganda.

There is an extended interview with Onziema on YouTube that dives further into some of the specifics of certain social elements, like context into how Ugandan discourse took on elements of American homophobic talking points (like "gay people are recruiting children") and a timeline of Scott Lively's touring of Uganda. John manages to completely break him by singing part of an early hateful song about "the rainbow belonging to God" as well, which made me so happy. Turn those hateful things into ludicrously stupid ones to destroy them.

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I do highly recommend watching this interview - it's one of the best things that LWT has ever done, still. This has stayed with me for 10 years.

Other notes:

Hey. Hey Lee. You gonna talk about the fit?: Yes of course I am, the meds didn't change my brain THAT much. We have a light blue shirt with a dark blue tie with lighter piping, and a gray suitjacket. This is a subdued look but I like the neutral slate color combination going on here. 8/10

I haven't mentioned the unique title cards for each episode of LWT yet, mainly because this is the first one I found really funny - it's a picture of Renaldo with the caption "Kickus Ballium". (New name for football ahoy!)

Please enjoy this incredible "I'm so smooth" looking freeze frame that I took while pausing the episode to write. So smooth.

"I've got to be honest, being British is sometimes a little like being an alcoholic. When someone says you did something awful, you find yourself going, 'Honestly, I don't even remember doing that, but yeah, probably, probably. I'm a dick, I'm a dick.'" He slipped so easily into that Ian Duncan mode for this line, I so hope he comes back for the Community movie.

#john oliver #last week tonight #last week tonight with john oliver #last lee tonight #Youtube #i am aware that i have spent over half a year on this and have only gotten nine episodes in

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shirosanshi · 8 months

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hiya! 18 and 29 for the ask game please

i really wanna know what you’ll choose 🌻

Aaaah, thank you for these two :3 Well my answers are going to be from Gazette band fanfics, bc that's what I deal in... I hope you don't mind!

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic? I think it has to be this one, from Songs For The Drawer (although depending on what device you are using to read it's a bit more than one line :D): Yuu recognized the song from the scribbles on the back of the paper. It was a painful one from around the time he wanted to quit the band. It was a cry for help, a confession, a self-depriving monologue, but at the end, just like all the other maybe six dozen papers lying on the floor, it was a love letter in the form of a song, one he wrote to Kouyou long-long years ago. 29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. Okay, here's Aoi as a dominant shibari rope master preparing for a night at the BDSM Club he attends... (GazettE fans, pls scream at me if you want this one to be published because I have some work to do on it, but I'd fucking LOVE a reason to make myself complete it.)

The Hunter

The second Saturday of the month. It was always the second Saturday of the month, and it was always the same like someone had written a script for the event. Maybe they did. Starting at nine in the evening, closing at three in the morning, six rooms and a colour coded identification system. You have to wear something nice, maybe something you would not go out to the street in. And you have to arrive with a clear mind and clean body, devoid of any influence. Take your equipment with you if you want, but there will be plenty to use there too. No cameras allowed. If you haven't uploaded a lab result of being STI free in that month to the website yet, you can’t attend…

Yuu knew all the rules by heart, and listing them in his head before leaving his condo was a way for him to get in the right headspace. There were two scenes planned tonight and an instruction session in the Daybreak room. He had to be on top of this. He took one gaze at his reflection in the full body mirror next to the door, noting how the black leather pants were hugging his thighs, the way the soft material of his dark shirt was outlining his upper body, stretching a bit on his chest. He flicked the top two buttons open. No fancy costumes this time, he wanted to be comfortable and be able to utilize his body’s movements to the fullest. With a sigh, he grabbed his bag and his keys and went down to the garage to begin the hour-long drive to the outskirts of the city, where he was to find Flame, the club he was heading to.

Soft jazz filled the interior of the car on his ride, it always helped heighten his senses and sharpen his focus, but this time his head was a bit fuzzy.

“Get your shit together, Aoi” he muttered as he exited the car seventy minutes later, and headed for the entrance of the club. He presented his membership card to the bouncer and asked for a yellow wristband, as usual. Yellow meant not taken, but not looking for anything in particular either. Yellow meant come and talk to me, but yellow also meant I don’t want anything from you. Yellow was a colour not many wore in this place.

He arrived precisely on time and headed for the prep room in the back. Some heads turned after him in the hallway, some averted their eyes shyly. He had no problem with either. Sitting down in one of the secluded corners of the prep room, he took out his equipment and meticulously checked every inch of it. No chafing of the ropes, no ends left unsealed, everything clean and ready as it should be. Each and every inch of rope sliding through his fingers was like a soothing balm to his nerves, and when he reached the end of his task he relaxed and had all the confidence he needed.

#ask #writing stuff

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copper-wasps · 1 year

Text

-Entry #3-

The screen blinks to life, lines and squares of red and green breaking apart the image with a dull drone of static. It doesn’t last long, the picture piecing itself back together into something blurry, slowly focusing into a clear view.

Once again the recording shows a bland, simplistic motel room, but not the same one from before. This one is different- faded green paint and ratty blinds that look like they’ve seen better days. A set of twin beds with matching brown sheets, a single nightstand between them with an old twin bell alarm clock. There’s a little lamp mounted into the wall above it, but there’s enough light peeking through the blinds that its kept off.

The camera is settled on the far side of the room, presumably propped up on a stand as there’s no surface to be seen beneath it on the edge of the frame. It captures a wide view of the small room, and while the beds are empty, the room itself is not.

Adelaide paces back and forth in front of the twin beds, arms crossed over her chest, right hand raised to her lips to gnaw at the nail of her thumb. She looks confused and frantic, frustrated and overwhelmed, perhaps even slightly manic. Her hair is held back in the twin braids from before, a bit loose but otherwise held together, still in the same dirt covered clothes- lacking the ruined jean jacket.

The little time stamp in the bottom corner of the screen logs nearly nine full minutes of pacing before she finally drops herself to sit on the edge of the bed furthest from the window, pushing her choppy bangs back from her face with a long suffering sigh.

“Okay…I guess I should give some sort of recap…or uh, an explanation?” She mutters, dropping her arms across her lap as she looks to the camera, pale blue eyes alight with an anxious flare, “I uploaded the last entry after I…came back…and was able to view the footage the camera captured. I don’t know where I went that night…but I was gone for four days.”

Adelaide falls silent for a moment, still seemingly struggling to process that bit of information herself, before she eventually continues her explanation, “I woke back up in that motel room last night, and after watching the footage to find out what happened I left immediately. I’m in the next town over now, I got to this motel at around three in the morning, uploaded the last entry…I tried to get some sleep, but that hasn’t really worked out for me. I just…”

She hesitates then, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, before dropping her head into her hands with a frustrated groan, “When I first watched those tapes I thought it was crazy how much they all lost track of time like that…days, weeks, even months without any memory of what happened…but now its happening to me too and I’m just as clueless as I was at the start…”

She takes a moment to recollect herself, rubbing at her temples with a deep sigh that does nothing to relieve any of the tension along her shoulders. Finally she drops her hands back to her lap, absentmindedly picking at her nails now as she raises her gaze to meet the camera once again.

She still looks frantic and lost, but there’s a glint of determination to her eyes now, a harder edge to her voice, “I still don’t have a lot to go on, I’m still figuring things out, but I’m not going to let this thing drive me crazy like it did my dad. I’m going to lay low for a little bit, try to come up with a plan…and then I’m going back out to Rosswood to try and find the others.”

Adelaide gets up from the bed as she finishes speaking, crossing the room to where the camera stands- and cuts off the recording with a quiet click.

#marble hornets #alternate universe #ask blog #jay merrick

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novaalexanderwrites · 1 year

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Blood and Thorns - Chapter 9 (Part 1)

Chapter 9 (Part One): Indictments and Informants (Read Chapter 1 (part one) here) - (See here for a complete list of chapters)

(Author’s Note: uploading this a bit later as I wanted to revise the first half of this chapter before it went up. This is one of my two favourite chapters and y’all deserve Perfection. Despite my failure to provide perfection, here’s the closest I can come to it, please enjoy and let me know your thoughts, comments, opinions, theories, or even anon hate is fine.😆) **Updated May 2, 2023 - Title change

The coven’s meeting room had been set up with a broad table with enough chairs for the nine Head of Households and their heirs. The room usually was vacant, but for today’s impromptu trial it had been set up special. The walls and floors were dark, star constellations twinkling on the ceiling reflecting their real-time positions, a project by two of the coven’s heirs from the year before. The walls were constructed of dark wood paneling, save for one which was lined with large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the forest to the south. In addition to the coven members, Sapphire Thorneheart had invited key township leaders, namely the mayor and head of the guard. It was unusual they would be in attendance, but this last-minute meeting was not a normal coven gathering. At the head of the table on rather grand seats sat Sapphire and Frigga, denoting their esteemed position as the First Family. The previous week had left Frigga in a fragile state, nightly nightmares plagued her nights and stress her days, so she was thankful her part to play in this meeting was small. It was a small comfort against the pit of dread that had settled in her gut. Frigga was dressed as simply as her aunt would allow, though not nearly as comfortably as she would have liked. Her ritual dress wasn’t bad, but the earrings and bracelets were heavy. She’d been able to negotiate her way out of the choker, thank the gods.

In contrast, Lady Sapphire wore her most extravagant coven meet ensemble to date; an intricate dark navy dress inlaid with gold thread and beading, her arms thick with gold bracelets. On her brow was strung a delicate circlet from which a single tear drop sapphire reflected brilliantly. The woman was the very picture of the authority she would exercise today. All the heads of the families, as well as their heirs, were in attendance as per standard coven meeting procedure. They sat around the large table in no particular order except for the Rynaulds, the history keepers, at Frigga’s left-hand side, the Magnus-Monroes at Sapphire's right-hand side, and the second family sat exactly opposite to the Thornehearts. Victoria sat straight and proud while Rosalind leaned on their armrest, staring out the windows with no detectable expression. As everyone took their seats, Lady Sapphire rose from her place, her hands held open in a welcoming gesture. “Welcome friends, and thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedules to attend this unscheduled meeting.” She raised her chalice, and everyone followed suit. They all took a sip from their chalices and placed them back on the table. A hush fell upon the room, and the meeting began. Sapphire sat back down and Stephan, her personal manservant, brought over a towering stack of documents and placed them in front of her. “As everyone is aware,” she began, “Last week there was a break-in in my home and we believed it was an attempt to steal information. During this invasion, my nephew was assaulted and would have died if not for a servant who happened to be nearby when the attack took place. An investigation was launched, lead by the honourable Blackwoods, and we’ve determined the attack’s origin.” A tense mood settled over the room as Morgan Blackwood, the Head of the Blackwood family, rose to speak. He was an older man, deeply respected in the coven, and was always sharply dressed in his suit and his famous divination pocket watch peeked out of his jacket’s breast pocket where a pocket square might sit. “Thank you Lady Sapphire,” he acknowledged before taking breath, as if to gird himself for the difficult speech ahead. “Our findings indicated the information the bandits were after was very specific. The books they were interested in involved our coven’s history and founding. “As everyone here knows, there has been some debate regarding leadership over the years. We all have our opinions on the matter, but the fact is the Thornehearts are wonderful leaders and have led our coven successfully for nearly a hundred and thirty years. Today is not a day to debate the role of leadership, but a day to hold someone responsible for harming a child of the coven, for trespassing, and for attempting to take what was not lawfully theirs.” A murmur of agreement was heard throughout the room. Frigga glanced around, and her tired, reddened eyes met Rosalind’s. They were clearly not thrilled to be here and visibly uneasy; this specific topic always involved their mother. They maintained eye contact for a meaningful instant before purposefully glancing at their mother, then back to Frigga. She did not reply beyond the barest of nods. Rosalind returned their eyes to the windows, their posture wilting with a slight sigh. Moira Blackwood, a sturdy middle-aged woman, picked up where her father left off. “The authorities detained one of the thieves to extract more information. This stack of documents we’ve presented to you, Lady Sapphire, is a summary of all the compiled evidence, and we’ve drawn an incontestable conclusion.” Morgan bade Moira sit and turned towards the opposite end of the table. “Victoria Bloodswell, you’re accused of treason and conspiracy.” Nobody was shocked. She jumped up out of her seat, her dark eyes narrowed. “How dare you?” she seethed. “What kind of evidence? This is nonsense, malicious, incompetent nonsense!” Morgan held up a copy of some of the evidence. “Lady Bloodswell, these notes were written in your hand. These detail plans to steal information, and they were taken from your desk.” Victoria snarled, her rage manifesting as a soft red glow at her hands. “Excuse me? I don’t recall allowing you or anyone else near my home, Morgan, so how was this so-called evidence retrieved? I have been nothing but loyal and have been an invaluable member of this coven for years, and this is how I am thanked? Being senselessly accused of-“ “Mother, shut up and sit down,” Rosalind interrupted, their sharp voice cutting through her protests. Everyone’s eyes shot to them and Victoria fell silent in her surprise. Rosalind did not historically speak during a meeting unless there was a specific need for necromantic knowledge, and when they did speak it was always polite, measured, and succinct. Frigga couldn’t remember them ever demonstrating anything but respect, and she was sure they had never publicly contradicted their mother. Rosalind looked to Victoria and stood to their feet. “I assisted them. Sit down.” Victoria spluttered, wordless in her shock, but yielded and sank into her seat. Rosalind took a deep breath and looked around the table like they were trying to escape a trap. But their voice was as calm as it ever was, “Friends, when the honourable Blackwoods arrived at our doorstep yesterday, I received them and reviewed the evidence presented to me. There was very little, but the pages they retrieved from the thief’s fireplace undeniably had my mother’s writing, and so I allowed Sir Blackwood to search her office and he was able to fortify the existing evidence with documents from the desk.” Everyone stared in shock. Rosalind’s face had cleared of their momentary discomfort and was now void of emotion, but their tone of voice suggested absolute distain for their mother’s actions. Frigga locked eyes with them once again, shocked that a person known for shunning the spotlight at all costs would volunteer to testify against their own mother and willingly turn her over to be punished. Unthinkable. They bowed in respect, hands at their side, and continued, “I apologize on behalf of my family. Needless to say, course nothing can make it right, and I express my deep regret that young Leland was so badly injured. I ask only, on my mother’s behalf, this esteemed company show mercy despite it being wholly undeserved.” They returned to their seat, their mother’s anger radiating from her. Rosalind seemed immune to it, however, and reassumed their previous position of apparent disinterest. The evidence was shared to the rest of the coven and it was as clear as day. Written correspondence regarding the break-in, documents going back months planning a fully-fledged coup, a few pieces of evidence collected from the scene of the crime, and a full confession from the thief naming Victoria as his employer. The scheme was laid bare, months in the making, interrupted by Razi the night the plan had begun. With every page she read, Frigga became more and more upset, her frail hands shaking while passing documents around the table. She had been privy to some of the evidence before the trial but most of this was new to her. How dare she? How much nerve did Victoria have, feeling so entitled to what was not hers and so entitled as to risk harming someone else? How could she have gathered up such courage when she knew how fearsome Sapphire could be? Was Victoria really that powerful herself, or was she just stupid? Frigga skimmed a page and her heart sank when she received her answer. It was a copy of a letter written by Lady Bloodswell:

As the Thorneheart heir-apparent is soft-hearted, I anticipate convincing the coven she is unfit for such a demanding task will be simple. She certainly doesn’t believe in herself, this is the opportunity we’ve been looking for.

Another page read:

We must hasten our plan. Before it seemed the Thorneheart heir-apparent would complete my task for me, but these thieves have another option. Now is the time.

A shadow settled over Frigga’s mind and guilt into her stomach. “Soft-hearted”? “She certainly doesn’t believe in herself”? Victoria had been emboldened by her doubts, had hope to overthrow the First Family because Frigga was hesitant. Had Frigga not been doing a good enough job? She’d been doing her best, but was her best not good enough? Was this all her fault? After everyone reviewed the documents, Sapphire rose to her feet. “Ladies, Gentlemen, and esteemed guests, I now give Victoria a chance to defend herself, and then the floor will be open for deliberation. What do you have to say for yourself, Lady Bloodswell?” With everyone’s eyes on her, defeated by the crushing weight of the indisputable evidence, Victoria stood to her feet. She had nothing to defend herself with, and her heir had abandoned her. With her posture penitent and her voice weak, she spoke, “My… my intentions were never for Leland to be wounded. Of that I can only apologize from my soul. As everyone saw, I expressly ordered nobody be injured, but that does not change the fact a child was almost killed on my behalf. I’m so sorry, and I will accept the guilt on that charge.” She then straightened her posture and held her head up with pride once more. “I do not, however, apologize for my effort to uncover the truth of our coven’s history! Our family possesses records claiming the leadership should have fallen to us, and I believe the Thornehearts have documents affirming it and are withholding them. I’ve submitted multiple times for an investigation to look into the account of my great grandfather, and both requests were denied without any consideration. I then inquired through legitimate channels to access the Thorneheart’s private library to conduct the investigation myself, but was denied entry. With all legitimate options exhausted, I did what was necessary for my family’s sake.” After pleading her case, she reclaimed her seat, maintaining her prideful posture. Rosalind rolled their eyes, and everyone else whispered to their neighbour. The floor was open for others to defend her, but the minute passed in silence; nobody came to her aid. After the minute expired, Frigga stood to perform her role and conduct the vote. “All those who find Lady Bloodswell guilty, raise your hand.” And slowly hands rose all around the room. A lot of them. Notably, Rosalind did not raise a hand. Frigga looked to Ophelia Rynauld, the keeper of the minutes, who scribbled down the votes from each family. When given the go-ahead from her, Frigga continued. “All those who find Lady Bloodswell not guilty, raise your hand.” Not a single hand rose for this vote, so Frigga continued. “All who abstain, please raise your hand.” And a few hands did rise, including Rosalind’s; it was their usual vote regardless of the topic. Once Ophelia’s record was complete, Frigga thanked her and sat back down. Sapphire rose to officially pronounce the decision. “Victoria, you’ve been found guilty. For your transgressions, the coven’s tradition dictates excommunication. Due to the nature of the bodily harm committed against my nephew, this case will be handed over to the local authorities. They will try you, find you guilty, and deal with you further.” There were a few “hear, hear!”s in response, and Victoria remained expressionless in her prideful posture. She was escorted out of the room by the guard’s captain, and her name was struck from the coven’s member registry. While it was, Frigga looked at Rosalind who was no longer feigning inattention but was heavy with the weight of what was happening. They were usually a fair individual but they’d lost what little colour they had; Rosalind would be head of the Bloodswell family. They had assisted in handing over their own mother for judgement, and had immediately and dramatically altered the course of the next twenty years of their life by doing so. Once the paperwork was completed, Sapphire handed the records to Ophelia for safekeeping. She stood again and faced the rest of her coven. “I would like to thank you, Mx Rosalind Bloodswell, for your aid.” Everyone looked to them, who shifted in their seat and fixed their eyes to the stack of documents they were being given by Stephan. “Without you, the evidence would not have been so concrete, and more harm may have come to others. It must have been distressing for you, and I recognize your honesty.” The witches raised their chalices in Rosalind’s direction, who started scratching at the back of their neck while avoiding everyone’s eyes. Frigga didn’t know Rosalind well, but in this moment she was proud to be part of their coven. She raised her glass and drank with the rest in gratitude. The coven’s leader concluded the meeting, stating arrangements for Rosalind’s official succession ceremony would start immediately and their assembly at the next full moon would be cancelled to prepare for it. The table was dismissed and most left in short order. After a few moments, the only people remaining were Sapphire, Frigga, the Magnus-Monroes, and Rosalind, who Lady Sapphire had asked to stay behind. Business first with her as always, Frigga supposed, and once her brief discussion with them was completed, Rosalind turned to leave. Frigga held them back to talk. “Thank you,” she said placing a hand briefly on their shoulder. Rosalind recoiled at the touch and frowned. “I understand how this looks,” they said, their guard up, eyes staring Frigga down. “I didn’t have anything to do with what happened.” Frigga frowned. “No of course not. I believe you, Rosalind.” Nodding reluctantly, their affect softened, and their gaze fell from her face. “I’m… I’m sorry about your brother. I hope he recovers soon.” “You…did you notice your mother acting strange at all? Like she was planning something?” Frigga asked meekly. Rosalind frowned with obvious offence. “No. You might not appreciate this, but her energy since… for the last year and a half has been unstable, so if she was more unhinged lately, I did not think it unusual.” They looked her over and settled after seeing Frigga’s sorry expression. “Believe me, if I had found out her plans sooner, I would have acted sooner. Do not think of my mother’s failings as mine.” Before Frigga could answer, Marcus walked over to the two of them having finished his discussion with Sapphire and Theodore. “Shame that!” He exclaimed, earning an exasperated look from Rosalind and a weary smile from Frigga. “I fell asleep halfway through. Kind of boring when you know the ending.” Theodore bade Marcus leave with him. Before he followed after his father, Marcus took Frigga’s hand and placed a gentlemanly kiss on it while flashing his charming smile up at her. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow?” Frigga merely nodded in response. Marcus then turned to Rosalind. “Will you be coming up to the library today? I guess not, huh?” The two of them left together, which Frigga thought was weird, especially when she spied a smile on the witch’s face. But she diverted her thoughts back to the afternoon’s meeting, still disturbed by what she’d read and heard. It wasn’t surprising Victoria tried to overthrow Sapphire, she had always been the vengeful type. Rosalind’s behaviour, however, was shocking. Frigga didn’t think poorly of them, but they always seemed indifferent. Not heartless, per se, but certainly emotionally distant from coven matters. That they’d stepped in, to the detriment of their mother and to their own desires, was unexpected to say the least.

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bills-bible-basics · 4 months

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Facebook: Is It Possibly Broken? https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/facebook-is-it-possibly-broken/ Around the middle of 2022, I began to seriously wonder if Facebook may be broken. Yes, literally broken. I mean, think about it. Facebook has gotten so big -- around two billion users, from what I have read -- that maybe its worldwide network of servers, bots and algorithms can no longer handle the load. Is it possible that there are simply way too many users, even though Facebook relies upon a global network of CDNs? Now, obviously, I don't know this for a fact, and it is just a theory on my part, but I suspect that maybe this user overload is in large part the reason why so many errors have been made in recent months. I am talking about all of the false positives with Facebook's security system. In other words, I am referring to the forced log offs, the forced lockouts, having to jump through Facebook's security hoops so many times, having to change our passwords so many times, seeing our posts frequently removed, etc. I know for a fact -- because my FB friends have told me so, and because I have experienced it many times myself -- that people are getting locked out, and logged off, of their accounts for the stupidest reasons. Furthermore, their posts are being removed when they have done absolutely nothing wrong. They haven't posted anything inappropriate. And that includes myself as well. In other words, we have NOT violated Facebook's "Community Standards" in any way, as far as I can tell. It makes absolutely no sense that these things are happening so much, and so frequently, unless there is some kind of ongoing systemic failure going on with Facebook. Folks, I just don't believe that Facebook's head honchos are so stupid, that they would continue to harass us that much. Think about it. They are already under tremendous pressure from the U.S. government, and from other entities, due to their multiple security gaffs, their apparent discrimination against Conservatives and Christians, etc. So why would they go out of their way, and do anything to further infuriate their user base? From what I have read, people are already leaving Facebook in droves, because they are fed up with it. So again, is it possible that there are some serious technical issues going on which have little or nothing to do with discrimination against us? I don't know how many of my related posts you have seen, but as I have already made really clear a number of times already, after almost nine years of virtual peace on Facebook, with near zero harassment, it became a real nightmare for me as of early October, 2019. The problems and harassment by Facebook techs got so bad, that I finally deleted my account in June of 2022, only to return 3.5 months later in September of 2022. Of course, now I just run a timeline, and no page or group, so things have been a lot more peaceful. However, sadly, it appears that I am STILL being shadow banned, and hardly anyone is seeing my daily posts. I actually make hundreds of posts each month. I wonder how many of them you actually see in your news feed. As I mentioned a minute ago, up until I opened my new Facebook account in September of 2022, I was being forced logged off and forced locked out of my account dozens of times. I was also forced to jump through Facebook's security hoops and change my password dozens of times over the course of three months. In May of 2022 alone, I was forced to upload my personal ID six times, which is why I finally got fed up and left in June of that same year. As if that is not enough, prior to shutting down my old account, literally hundreds of my posts were being removed. So, yes, as I have stated before, it seems like it may have been intentional harassment due to my Christian faith. But I am beginning to believe that it is that, and even more. Technically, it just seems to me that something is seriously screwed up, and the Facebook staff just don't have a handle on it yet, whatever it is. I could be wrong, but that is my suspicion. What do YOU think? Let us know. By the way, you might want to read this article: "Why I Am Fed Up With Facebook": https://www.billkochman.com/Articles/fed-up-facebook.html Thanks! https://www.billkochman.com/Blog/index.php/facebook-is-it-possibly-broken/?feed_id=170523&Facebook%3A%20Is%20It%20Possibly%20Broken%3F

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skomedia · 1 year

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Joe Sko's Homeless Journey For Gifted & Cursed - Up To Tuesday July 11th

Joes journey for gifted and cursed On February 18, 2022 I attempted suicide by stabbing myself in the throat and trying to cut the carotid artery. When I woke up in the hospital I was upset and that because not only because I survived because I would be homeless, I was scared to death of being homeless. I spent seven days in the hospital recovering from my wounds in an additional 14 days in a psych ward, behavioral health unit where I found out I was bipolar manic depressive. Again, my biggest fear at this time was me being homeless after getting out. And the subsequent time I’ve had several manic episodes, one of which had me move to Southern California where I’m living right now. While going through a manic depressive state after being fired from a job where I was sexually assaulted, I watched a video of Joe Rogan and ari sharif chatting about his depression. This is where I decided to create giftedandcursed to educate people on what the mentally ill actually go through After recording a few podcast episodes with the fellow Bipolar friend Maraya. I decided to go a little crazy with the idea and actually to go Homeless myself. On June 18 exactly 16 months after I attempted suicide I donated everything I owned to the church soup kitchen I volunteer at save for one bag of clothes and my computer hardware so I can record and upload. The date was completely random. I did not choose it. I figured I’d last a month or two but I only lasted nine days sleeping in my car where my head or my brain started really messing with me. I started to get desperate. I needed to get some type of income in as soon as possible because I realized I was starting to behave like the homeless around me. Very complacent. I was looking for an search engine optimization gig on craigslist and found Eddie Barber an Academy award winning camera person. He has apparently the inventor of the gimbal and lots of other camera equipment stuff, so I figured I hit the jackpot. After a great conversation and meeting with Eddie, he asked me to set up a nonprofit foundation, called the Eddie Barber foundation for him. I did so, putting together all the paperwork, and was signed as his executive Director/secretary of the foundation I was allowed to use one of Eddie’s vehicles to go pick up a Wallet, but during this time I enter a Manic stage where I got very desperate and was trying to sell his 360 camera booth. My cell phone has been shut off at this time and my car has been towed for nonpayment. This is Monday, July 10. I drove to the church using Eddie’s car to confront the upper staff about someone stolen mail as well as stolen money that I have been reported to about. I told them that the production company really wanted to know more about the stolen mail, as well as the list of broken employment laws they have broken. This really scared them and they asked if they can opt out which I said no. This made them pretty upset. Several hors later I confronted the church security guard at which point he head butted me before I could finish my sentence. I defended myself, held him down and his girlfriend Jeanine run out and kicked me in the throat. Bleeding profusely from my nose and face immediately jumped into Eddies car, because I had no idea how many people were actually attacking me and I left the church property I started getting woozy and lightheaded and parked at an apartment complex and called 911 at which point they came within a few minutes and took me to the hospital leaving Eddie’s car at the apartment complex. The hospital fixed me up and gave me a ride back to my car through an Uber at 2 in the morning at which point I had to wait around 6 hours because Eddie Eddie’s car died and I wasn’t able to start it. I need a jumpstart. At around seven or 8 AM I was arrested by police officers because Eddie had called the car in stolen. At this point, I am still unable to speak well because of my throat injury and my eye is blackened. I called Eddie threatened to sue him if he didn’t drop the charges and I think that’s why I was released without having to sit bail or see a judge but I still have to go back to court on August 10 I got out of jail at 11:30 PM with only my cell phone. I was so furious and irritated that I created a video for Eddie that was very malicious but after watching it, I decided to delete it and I went to the nearest hospital and told them that I’m having a manic episode and that I’m gonna hurt somebody if I don’t I’m hurt myself if I’m not admitted. This was Tuesday the 11th and I was admitted to bhu on Wednesday the 12th. Staying seven days at the behavioral health unit I was released on the 18th and I’m now living in the sober living house with only my cell phone and Eddie still refuses to let me come by and pick up my stuff. Please refer to the pages below for the Content. I have been uploading during my Homeless research.. Gifted and Cursed FB page https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100093618002028&mibextid=LQQJ4d Sko media fb page https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100092877542288&mibextid=LQQJ4d Joe sko personal fb page https://www.facebook.com/joeskotheone?mibextid=LQQJ4d Read the full article

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moonchild-things · 1 year

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Chapter One: The Vanishing of Will Byers

Summary: There was nothing extraordinary about Bonnie Ward. A typical teenage girl who never says all that much and doesn’t have too many friends. Hawkins never felt all the strange or special to her, but her opinion changes after being dragged into the horrors that hide in the forests. Interdimensional monsters and psychic people are not what Bonnie would have ever imagined showing up in Hawkins!

Word Count: 4205

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A/N: I should have been working on the Stranger Things series that I already have somewhat written, The Secret Saga, but I had an idea. So here we are ^-^ WOOO! I've got quite a few chapters already written which means *drum roll* that I'll have a consistent upload with this story ^-^ I'm thinking that I'll upload this story every Monday and then any other stories that I write will be on Fridays. That seems good to me :) Anyway, let's get into the start of this story! Hope you like it!

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SILENCE IS A VIRTUE THAT BONNIE VALUES above nearly everything else. When she has the chance to keep to herself, to be alone with nothing but her thoughts and the never ending silence is a godsend. Personally, Bonnie Ward loves to have utter silence whenever she can. Waking up early is something that she likes to pride herself on, especially when it gives her these moments of silence. Completely alone with her own thoughts to do what she likes. She can finish up any last minute homework or get a head start on some studying for school. Bonnie would like to say she’s a pretty studious kid. Unlike some other high school students who were most likely slacking off on some work or other, Bonnie keeps herself busy with it all. The silence allows her to focus much better, silence allows her to think properly. Which is why she was cursing God now that her silent morning was being interrupted.

“Ay, Freakette, if you want to get to school on time, get up now.” The rough voice of her much older brother grunted as he came storming into her small bedroom. Her perfect start to the morning was ruined, like usual, by her more than annoying older brother. The small black afro on his head was perfectly curly, as he made sure it was every morning. His dark brown eyes pinpointed his little sister sitting at her desk, pausing her scribbling to turn a look at him. “Oh,” Samuel blinked, seeing her already awake, “just get out to the car already.”

Bonnie sighed as he lumbered away and left her bedroom door open. ‘He’s such an ass,’ Bonnie thought to herself. While Bonnie had just turned fifteen at the beginning of the year, her brother was going to turn twenty-nine in a few weeks. A very large age gap when people point it out. That would have to be the only strange thing about the Ward family. They were considered the standard nuclear American family that people aimed for, despite the gap in ages between children. A completely normal family in a completely normal town. In Hawkins, Indiana there really wasn’t anything too abnormal about the small community.

Sighing through her nose, Bonnie put her school books into her over the shoulder backpack. She made sure that her curly brown hair was pushed back with a random headband and then trudged out of her bedroom. Walking down the stairs, Bonnie found her father lounging at the kitchen table with the day's newspaper in hand and her mother cleaning up her used dishes.

Her bald-headed father, a tough looking black man in his early fifties, peered over the newspaper as his daughter stepped down the stairs. “Morning, Bon,” he greeted her as she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. David Ward is one of the best father’s that Bonnie could have asked for. Sure, at times he could be a hardass on her, but she respected him for it.

“Do you want breakfast, Bonnie?” The sweet voice of her mother asked. Savannah Ward, much like her husband, is quite a great parent. She’s caring, nurturing, but also doesn’t take no nonsense. That’s most likely the reason why she and Samuel butt heads so much. Not only that but she was quite a beautiful woman for her age. With some of the clearest skin that you could ever find and luscious black hair made her appear years younger. Bonnie shook her head no. She had already snuck a snack in a while ago when she first woke up. So she would survive until lunch time. “Alright then.”

“I’m leaving,” Samuel grunted as he marched through the foyer and out the door.

Savannah called after him, “Samuel, wait for your sister!”

He just shouted over his shoulder, “Whatever, Ma.” He then climbed into his 1975 mustang and lit a cigarette as he impatiently waited for the teenager.

“That man,” Savannah sighed heavily. She then turned to give her daughter a kiss on the crown of her head, “Have a good day, sweetheart.” Bonnie smiled at her kind mother as a goodbye before heading out the door to jump into her brother’s car. He then peeled out of the driveway, as if he was in the middle of the indy 500.

It was normal for Bonnie to suffer through the erratic driving of her brother, so she was prepared to have herself nearly thrown backwards into her seat at the fast driving. Through the cigarette perched on his lips, Samuel snarked, “just so you know, I won’t be picking you up.” Bonnie rolled her eyes, now staring out of the window at the houses passing by. Through one of his douchey smirks he continued, “some boys and I are getting plans together for the upcoming football game. Which by the way, if you go, make sure to keep your distance,” He glared at her from the corner of his eyes, “Don’t want anyone seeing my freak sister hanging around me, got it.”

Bonnie huffed, but grunted in agreement. It’s not like she cared anyway. ‘As if I want to be around a bunch of douchebags.’ She wouldn’t be caught dead at any sports games for school. Something like football didn’t interest her at all, let alone to go to a game or anything. Being surrounded by the empty headed jocks and cheerleaders is not something that she enjoys all too much.

Due to the age difference between them, the Ward siblings never really connected on any level. Not only that but their interests were completely different from each other. Samuel is all about sports, specifically football, and parties any chance that he could. Meanwhile, Bonnie liked to do more quiet activities, read, draw, write, or any activity that kept her away from people. She enjoys her silence and being alone allows her to get that. Perhaps if they were closer in age, the two would get along more. However, with there being a fourteen year age gap proved to cause a discrepancy in their ability to get along.

Eventually, after a stiff car ride, they arrived at the high school. With no words exchanged, Bonnie got out of the car just before Samuel raced out of the parking lot, nearly running over a few students. Those students being boys that Bonnie is familiar with.

Eddie and Gareth shouted out quite a few curses at the speeding car as they narrowly avoided it. Bonnie cringed at the sight and approached the pair as they collected themselves after the near miss. “Fuckin’ douche bag,” Gareth grunted.

“Asshole!” Eddie shouted after the car, but Samuel was already long gone. Bonnie approached the pair with an apologetic tilt of her head. Every time anyone she was friendly with had the unfortunate chance of meeting her brother she has to apologize somehow. Eddie turned to her as she approached and scoffed, “How do you live with that guy, Bon?” She just shrugged her shoulders and eyed him with a familiar sadness in her eyes. Eddie looked down at her, recognizing the apology without her even saying a word, and said, “Oh don’t be sorry, it’s that asshole who should be.” Still she couldn’t help herself but be sorry for her brother’s behavior. Someone had to be the adult about his actions, and it certainly wasn’t going to be Samuel.

Gareth draped his shoulder over her shoulder, with her being a head or two shorter than him, and clicked his tongue. “How an angel like you is related to that is beyond me.”

‘They really need to stop saying things like this.’ Bonnie shook her head and couldn’t help the heat that traveled up her neck.

These two boys were a part of the group that Bonnie would consider her friends. All of them were labeled freaks at their school, and freaks tend to stick together when they have no one else. Bonnie is an outcast, there’s really no debate about that. Thanks to her mutism, she doesn’t stand out to any capacity and when people do notice her, they find it weird that she doesn’t say much. Though without saying anything, people can tell that she is an emotional person. She has the capability to convey her emotions just through her soulful eyes. Even with all that emotion, it was like she was able to read people’s minds just by looking at them, another reason why people tended to avoid her. Though not the Hellfire Club. Sure, she wasn’t that interested in D&D, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t offer her, a fellow “freak”, a safe haven whenever she needed.

Eddie cleared this throat and put on a posh accent, “Shall we escort this maiden to her destination.”

Gareth joined in, “We shall. M’lady,” he offered her an elbow, which caused her to giggle lightly and take it. Eddie did the same and the trio entered the school through the throngs of hormonal and desperate teenagers. Gareth and Eddie escorted Bonnie to her locker and dramatically presented Bonnie to her destination through slight laughter and teasing.

Bonnie shook her head at their silliness and smiled widely at them. They certainly were some of the most amusing people, she’s glad to say that they were her friends. Eddie ruffled his bushy hair and leaned beside her locker, “so we’ll see you today at Hellfire, right?” Bonnie nodded her head. That seemed to brighten his smile, “great, and I assume you need a ride home.” It wasn’t a question since Eddie usually ended up being her rides home since her parents were always busy and her brother certainly wasn’t going to do it. Though it’s not like either of them minded. They liked each other's company and, no matter how many times Bonnie apologized for the inconvenience, Eddie didn’t have any issue with taking a slight detour. Her house was on the way to Gareth’s house, where the boys went to practice for their band, so he was always ready to drop her off.

The bell then rang, signifying that their classes were going to start soon. Bonnie exhaled sharply through her nose, her annoyance clear on her face. One thing that she was not looking forward to today was chemistry class. She certainly does not have the affinity for things like science, and that was clear through her mediocre grades in chemistry and algebra. Numbers are just so hard.

Gareth clicked his tongue, also dreading having to go to class. Oh the woes of being a teenager. “Looks like it’s time to suffer,” he said sadly.

“Just think, after all this we can continue our awesome campaign after school,” Eddie said, nearly salivating at the idea of getting to do their campaign after school. The Hellfire Club was in the middle of quite an intense D&D campaign. It was all gibberish to Bonnie, but she still liked seeing how worked up the boys got over it. She smiled widely and held her books tightly to her chest. “See you, fair maiden!” The two boys then swaggered away through the throngs of teens as Bonnie shook her head at their silliness and turned to head to her own class.

Maneuvering her way through the current of teenagers, Bonnie made her way to her first class of the day. She scurried her way into the chemistry room and took her seat. She could feel the anxiety wafting off of everyone in the room. There was a test coming up soon for this class, and everyone was more than nervous about it. Even Nancy Wheeler, one of the smartest girls in the class, was worrying about it. Mr. Kaminsky is a hard ass when it comes to his tests. Which made Bonnie’s life a living hell. It was no wonder why this class had her worst grade. A damn B-. It was a black mark on her record, in her opinion.

Speaking of Nancy Wheeler, she came waltzing into the room. Her smile glistened in the morning sun as she greeted her peers while heading for her seat, right next to Bonnie. Nancy even gave Bonnie a smile and small greeting before pulling out her notebooks and some blank flashcards.

“Hey, Bonnie, do you mind helping me with my flashcards?” Nancy asked nicely, “Can you write down the last of these answers?”

Bonnie nodded her head and took a few flashcards. Nancy appeared to be more than grateful with the agreement. So Bonnie started to scribble down the answers to the questions on the other side of the flashcard. She was certain that she would most likely end up using these alongside Nancy and Barbra for some studying in class.

Bonnie wouldn’t say that she was friends with either girl. Though they were acquaintances at the very least. They worked together on some projects, had short study groups while in class, and helped each other on homework when they needed it. Though their relationships didn’t go anywhere outside of this classroom. Still, that didn’t mean that Bonnie didn’t know anything about them outside of chemistry.

There was some new gossip that Bonnie has heard recently. Since Bonnie never really spoke or was never really regarded much by her peers, many spoke openly while in her presence. Either they never noticed her or cared to think that she would do anything with the gossip she overhears. Bonnie was privy to quite a few tidbits of information regarding nearly everyone at Hawkins High. She’s heard all about who was dating who, who cheated on who, the things that happen at parties, and many, many more things. Though they were right about one thing, Bonnie wasn’t going to tell anyone about it. Most of the things she heard were useless information. There’s not much that she can do with the info of how Tommy H. cheated on Carol yet again. Though the newest gossip she heard was all about Nancy Wheeler.

Apparently word had gotten around that Steve “The Hair” Harrington had set his sights on her. The pair might be dating? Or was it just another one of Steve’s flings? No one was completely sure just yet. Though Bonnie figured that they were at least somewhat together. Not like she cared. The popular kids were some that Bonnie avoided with how that relentlessly bullied her friends and even herself.

Bonnie had to deal with bullies for most of her time in school in Hawkins. Middle school was slightly better, but high school just amplified it. She’s dealt with popular kids calling her a freak, racists saying some slurs, and mean girls saying she wasn’t girly enough(whatever that meant, Bonnie still wasn’t sure about that one.). Bonnie has found that silence is one of the perfect ways to get them to stop bothering her. After all, they’re just looking for a reaction. By not saying anything in retaliation, they didn’t get the reactions they wanted and they’d leave her alone, for the most part.

The rest of the day was normal and boring. Nothing that exciting happened to Bonnie as she went about her day. Mosing along with her peers from class to class, going to meet up with the Hellfire Club for lunch, and suffering through her gym class. Eventually, the last class of the day came upon her. History class with Mrs. Click. While it was easier than any math related subject for Bonnie, it still wasn’t her favorite. Really the only class that she enjoys is English. Though there was one thing that seemed out of place.

Currently, the class had the assignment of making a presentation about world war 1 with a partner. Something that can be easily done after a few days. The only issue for Bonnie today was that her partner was missing. Sure, people miss school, but it was just slightly unusual for Jonathan Byers. Bonnie figured that he wasn’t a perfect student, no perfect attendance or anything, but his absence just felt… strange. Whatever it was, it didn’t impede her work. She just continued to do some short research and write a script for them when they present. After that, the final bell of the day rang, and the students were finally free.

Grabbing her things and heading down the quickly emptying halls, Bonnie knew just where to go. If she had gone outside to the parking lot, it wouldn’t be a surprise to see that her brother would be nowhere to be found. Just as he said that morning, he wasn’t going to be coming to pick her up today. Surprise, surprise. Though if she’s being honest, Bonnie much preferred it when he didn’t.

When Samuel wasn’t around to take her home from school, it just meant that she got to hang out with the Hellfire Club. So she made her way to their club room with a small skip in her step. She would tell anyone that she very much enjoys hanging around the small group of boys. Even if they were labeled as freaks, they were

“Hey, Bonnie!” Jeff, a fellow sophomore, greeted the girl as she came into the room. The boy gave her a large smile as she sat herself down in the seat between him and Eddie. “Are you ready to see us start an amazing adventure!?” Bonnie nodded her head enthusiastically at the flamboyant way he asked her.

“Come on, children,” Eddie said dramatically as he stood at the head of the table. The aura of adventure and craziness around him grows as his smile grows wide, “it’s time for the fun to begin!”

The rambunctious boys all talked animatedly with each other as they went through their campaign. It was quite the scene to watch from her seat overlooking the table. Most of the time when they talked about spells or locations, it sounded like another language to Bonnie. Though it made her more than happy to see them this giddy and passionate over their hobby. The room was full of contagious feelings of happiness that Bonnie was always infected with. They laughed and groaned all throughout the beginning of the campaign as Eddie was the near perfect DM for the club. He’s always so zealous about his campaigns and does his best to think up the greatest campaigns that he can come up with.

‘He’s so cool,’ Bonnie marveled in her own thoughts as she watched him laugh at the misfortune of his friends.

It became later in the day, close to dinner time and the sky was starting to become night. The boys thought that it was time to call it for the day. It was just the beginning of this new campaign, and it would no doubt last quite a while. All the tricks and misfortune that he put into the game for his friend’s characters to find were both annoying and impressive from their point of view. Though it was time for them to say goodbye for the day. Bonnie said good night to Jeff, Gareth, and Peter as Eddie stuck by her.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.” Eddie said as he laid his arm over her shoulders. So the two waltzed through the near empty halls of their school towards the parking lot. Climbing into the black van, Bonnie buckled herself up in the front passenger seat.

Riding in Eddie’s van was not tense by any means. Sure, Bonnie didn’t speak while they were riding along the streets of Hawkins, but that didn’t mean the van was silent. Eddie usually kept things lively as he went on about the latest song that his band Corroded Coffin had been practicing or the next idea he had for the D&D Campaign. He could speak enough for the both of them when given the chance. Honestly, this had to be the highlight of Bonnie’s day.

The ride was about twenty minutes, but felt like five minutes since the two were having quite a fun time. Soon enough they make it the Ward household, much to their dismay. They sit in the front seats for a short while and say their goodbyes for the night. That usually consisted of Eddie making some grandiose display of displeasure at having to say goodbye while Bonnie silently giggled at his words. If there’s one person who could always make her laugh, it was Eddie Munson, and she loved that.

Watching from the front window, Savannah smiled as she saw Bonnie and Eddie talk and say goodbye to each other. She found the scene quite adorable, and more than glad that Bonnie had a friend like this. “That Munson boy is so nice for taking you home after school.”

David grunted and crossed his arms over his chest, “I don’t like it.”

“Bonnie is a growing girl, dear,” Savannah said while rolling her eyes, “no doubt boys would start to notice.”

He just rolled his eyes, “He’s too old for her, too… strange.”

His wife shook her head at him, “Oh, let them be, he seems perfectly fine.” In her mind, Bonnie is growing into a young woman, it’s fine for her to explore relationships for a bit. Though that didn’t mean they wouldn’t vet her potential boyfriends. As if Savannah would just let some boy sweep her daughter off her feet before finding out everything about him that she could.

“Sam should be taking her home,” David grumbled, “not some boy who no doubt has bad intentions with Bon.” Bonnie then came through the front door, her ever present smile on her face. She greeted her parents with a small wave which earned her a kiss on the head from her mother.

Bonnie made quick work of going into the kitchen to grab herself a snack, ‘I saw a banana in here earlier.’ As she searched for something to munch on, she heard her parents talking.

Savannah shrugged her shoulders, “Samuel should be taking her home. Oh, that man, I’ll be having a talk with him.”

“The only way to get through to him is to kick him out, Savannah.” He was right. It’s been a while since Samuel had to move back in with his parents. Though at this point, David was more than annoyed with him still being around. Samuel is a grown man and should have his life together at this point, in his opinion. David knows Samuel screwed his life up horrendously, though figured that he’d be on his own feet by now. Though that was just wishful thinking for a man like Samuel.

Savannah looked at her husband as if he had said the most scandalous thing, “We don’t need anything too drastic!”

Now taking small bites from her banana, Bonnie thought to herself, ‘we never should have let him move back in.’ After doing something like cheating on your wife, Bonnie didn’t think that Samuel deserved to come back home. She gets that her mom would want to protect her son no matter what, but after doing something like that?

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, the front door opened and in waltzed Samuel. His whistling ceased as he noticed his parents sitting in the living room, staring at him as he walked in. “Hey, mom, dad.”

That was when the floodgates of scolding started, “Samuel Ward, why didn’t you pick up your sister again.” His mother started out with her hand on her hips, “You didn’t pick her up three times last week!”

He scoffed, “She’s a big girl now, she can get her own rides home.”

“Bonnie is a teenager who does not have her license yet, she needs you to take her home!” David said sternly to him, though from the way that Samuel rolled his eyes at that, it wasn’t getting anywhere. The man was still going to deflect any sort of responsibility away from himself, even something as simple as picking up his little sister from school.

Samuel rolled his eyes, “She’s got that Munson freak drivin’ her home, she’s perfectly fine.”

“Samuel!”

As Savannah scolded her son, Bonnie glared at him and punched him as hard as she could in his side. She might allow herself to be called names, but she wouldn’t take that going against her friends.

Samuel grunted, “Ah, bitch!”

“Language!” David nearly roared at his son before looking to his daughter, “Don’t hit your brother either.”

Bonnie just huffed through her nose and marched her way up the stairs. The last thing she wants right now is to be in the tense atmosphere as her brother is told off. Even though she knows that nothing will come of it. No matter how many times her parents told him off for his wrong doing, he kept doing it. Only because he hadn’t faced any real consequences for his actions.

She definitely didn’t want to think about that right now. Hearing the faint arguing of her family from downstairs, she sat down at her desk and pulled out her homework. Until it was dinner time, she’d just constantly sit in her room, in her silence, and do her work. The one thing that she can confidently believe in, silence is a virtue.

---

A/n: So I think that this is a pretty okay start for this series. Gotta be honest, its actually so nice to write this way since I have everything already planned out, already written so I don't have to stress about rushing chapters or anything. Means I can take my time with them and end up with a much better quality to my writing. At least, I hope that's how it is lol

I had the idea for Bonnie after listening to the Go-Go's last month and thought 'How would I write a character who doesn't really speak?' I saw it as a challenge with myself since I like to write dialogue and make the conversations between characters as realistic as I can. Having a character whos more show don't tell with their expressions in a sense seems like good practice for writing, not gonna lie. So I just thought I haven't written much for Stranger Things and I ended up rewatching season 4 the week I came up with Bonnie and thought, why not write a new Stranger Things fic and we are here :)

In the beginning I thought maybe making Bonnie's story just a oneshot, cause I want to write those a bunch and post them to my Tumblr at some point. Though I just got to into writing more about her background and creating her family. I got carried away and now it's gonna be a full fic lmao

Though I am gonna be working on some oneshots of plenty of different fandoms that I might make a oneshot fic or just keep them on my Tumblr, I'm not sure yet. But I have many fics that are half baked and wouldn't be good to be fleshed out in a full fic, so oneshots they will become! Plus writing out some short blurbs, oneshots, headcannons even would be interesting. I've never done that before, it'll be a new experience lmao

Let me know what you thought of it! Until the next one my friends~! See you next Wednesday!

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