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celestie0 · 6 months

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choso x reader | punk rock au [18+]

in another life ch.1 cupid's arrow

ᰔ pairing. punk rock au - bass player! choso x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. you and choso were lovers in college when him and his rock band were just nobodies with nothing but a dream, but when his band strikes a deal with an up-and-coming record label in tokyo, you make the tough decision to break up with him since you couldn’t go with him to the city. flash forward seven years, his band is the biggest rock band in the world, n you move from the countryside to tokyo with your fiancé nanami to start your new life together. but in the heart of the city, home to many, there’s one person there that still has the power to turn your whole life upside down. and when you run into him again after all those years, feelings you didn’t know were still haunting you come crashing back all at once, and you’re not sure what it is you want from your life anymore.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, punk rock au, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, cigarette usage, romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, second chance romance, time skips, love triangle, bad boy choso, slight age gap (five yrs), longterm pining, jealousy, messy decisions, you know the drill

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 6)

ᰔ words. 10.2k

a/n. hellooooo aaa welcome to my new choso fic :'') i'm so excited for this one! i'm just laughing at how i cannot just stick to a oneshot idea and somehow end up planning out a fullblown series instead hahah. but anyways, i hope you enjoy! thank you to everyone that wanted to be on the taglist, i'm really looking forward to diving into this story. see you at the bottom!!

alsooo my m00tie @sykosugu and i decided to post for our fics at the same time hehe she has a really spicy suguru x reader fic called 'on the run' that i highly recommend so go check that out as well if you're interestedd <33

nav. ch1 :: ch2 (pending)

“and there was something about you that now, i can’t remember. it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.”

present day. summer.

“We’re gonna miss you so, so, so much, love,” Mai groans, pulling you in towards her for a hug and you reciprocate with fondness.

Another pair of arms wraps around you, grip much tighter and you protest through a difficult breath. “Do you really have to go?” Nobara asks.

You tap on the skin of her arm, urging her to ease her hold in this group hug, and she finally relents and the three of you pull apart from one another. There’s a slight gasp from your lips as you breathe in fresh summer air. “I do, Nobie, I’m sorry. Nanami said it’s the final decision.”

You’re standing on hot concrete in front of a little countryside cottage that you’ve called home for years, but will soon just be a memory. You know which light switches illuminate corners of the rooms, and which creaking wood panels on the floor to avoid when looking for a midnight snack. It’s where you spent years studying for finals, arguing with your mom, learning how to care for Ms. Roxie, and it’s where you fell in love. More than once.

Your parents gave the house to you and Nanami once the two of you became engaged, but that blessing was soon to be given away, as Nanami received news six months ago that he was being promoted and relocated to Tokyo. Now, you have two bags in your hands, your purse slung around your shoulder, and a suitcase filled to the brim with the life you’ve tried to stuff in it. Your taxi driver has the other suitcase, because there were some things you couldn’t leave behind after all, and he’s putting it in the trunk right now.

“Nanami is so rude to take you from us,” Mai sighs, “but at least you’ll be one of those cool city girls now. So scary. I heard trends change faster there than the leaves on Rowan tree during spring.”

Nobara lets out a gasp that’s only half exaggerated. “No way! It can’t be!”

The taxi driver calls after you with a quick question, to which you answer back with a shout from where you stood. A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s time to get moving, as you’ll be taking a connecting train once you reach Tokyo that you need to be on time for. And then he’ll be there. Nanami will be waiting for you there, to lead you into the life that he’s started to make for the two of you.

“I’ll call so very often,” you promise the two of them, “and I will miss you two so very often as well.” Tears prickle in your eyes, and it seems to be contagious as they shimmer in Nobara and Mai’s eyes as well. Another group hug takes place between the three of you, harsh sun beating down with birds chirping in the distance as you try to take in the last few moments you’ve been granted of this place. “Take care of Roxie for us,” you say through a sniffle, “to you, it may seem like you’re only the bearer of food for her, but I promise that little kitty will love you two like no other.”

They both nod at you as you pull away, and you swipe at a tear that rolls down your cheek as you roll your suitcase down the pebbled walkway of your now past home.

The taxi driver helps hoist your suitcase into the trunk and places your other two bags into the back seat. You take a seat at the front with him, clicking the passenger seatbelt, and you roll down the window to wave bye with blown kisses as the taxi driver pulls away from the rocky mud road with crunching under the wheels. You watch Mai and Nobara and your home in the side view mirror until they’re no longer visible, but their voices of farewell linger in the air for a moment more.

“Alright, ma’am, bound for Tokyo!” your taxi driver chirps, his rough-looking hands opening and closing a few times to stretch out the joints of his fingers before tightly gripping onto the steering wheel again.

“Yes, Tokyo,” you murmur softly, gaze set out the window of the familiar street shops and stretches of patchy trees you know you’ll miss once you’re in the city.

“What’s your name?” the man asks, a thick country accent rolling off his tongue, with a sweetness like honey.

You turn your head to look at him more closely. The hair of his eyebrows is bushy, somewhat unkempt, and he has thick lines across his cheeks and forehead that can only mean that he’s lived a lot of life.

You tell him your name and he nods slowly as the two of you stop at a through road, a few school children hurrying past before he turns right onto the main road. “That’s a nice name. Which one of your parents gave it to ya?”

“Um. Both of them?”

He lets out a noise of acknowledgement, and doesn’t ask a further question. You smooth out the fabric of your long skirt with a hand, then toy with the band of your simple watch. Just when you think a comfortable silence has fallen between the two of you, and you think you have the luxury of losing yourself in your thoughts with sights beyond the polished glass window, the man speaks up again.

“Alright then, miss, tell me a story.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Pardon?”

“We’re gonna be spendin’ three hours in this car together, darlin’. It’s either I talk your ear off or you talk mine off,” he says, broad shoulders rolling backwards once as he gets comfortable in his driving position.

“Uh…do we need to talk at all?”

He glances over at you for a moment. The car wheels grind over rocks on gravel road near an agricultural field, and his fingers flex once again on the wheel. “You younger generations are so stuck in your own worlds. Entertain some conversation with the poor old taxi driver, will ya?”

You sigh, folding your hands in your nap neatly. “Alright. I don’t really have many stories to tell, though.”

“A young lady like you, packin’ up her whole life to move to a big city? I beg to differ,” he counters.

His words have you tucking your bottom lip under your teeth, a few blinks of your eyelids to process his observation of you. Your mind searches for stories to tell. Maybe that moment last week when you watched a momma duck waddle across a bridge with all seven of her baby ducklings. Or maybe you could tell him about that time you drove your car into a ditch the night of the comet festival and you swear you saw a UFO in the sky. The story you’ve been telling a lot lately, though, was the one of how Nanami proposed.

But then there’s a different story that comes to mind. With hazy images of blinding stage lights in dim venues, cigarette smoke wafting through the air, sounds of bass and drums and cheers. Smell of dry grass, the feeling of your back against a blanket, heart beating fast underneath the stars in front of a twinkling lake. And forever in your memory, the patterns of his inked skin.

“You got a boyfriend?” the man asks, suddenly.

“Are…are you hitting on me?” you ask awkwardly.

“Oh, no, ma’am,” he shakes his head, lifting his left hand up from the steering wheel and turning the back of it to face you. A silver ring adorning his fourth finger shimmers from the reflected sunlight through the window. “Happily married. Been with my missus for 22 years.”

A small smile makes its way onto your face as you relax into your seat a little, feeling calmer. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry for assuming. And I have a fiancé, actually.”

“Oh?” he chirps, stealing a quick glance at your left hand that was still folded neatly underneath your right one in your lap. “How come I’m not seein’ a ring?”

You tug at the small chain around your neck, a chill felt as diamond stone and cold metal drags against the skin of your sternum before you pull out your own promise of marriage, dangling it in front of your chest for him to steal another glance at. “I wear it around my neck. I’m a pottery teacher, so I usually take it off when showing my students any demos. I figured if I kept taking it off like that, I might lose it, so I just wear it around my neck now.”

“That’s interesting,” he comments, “It’s a real nice ring, that’s for sure! Tell me about this man you’re marryin.”

Your heart aches at the thought of Nanami. It’s been six months since you’ve seen him, since he relocated to Tokyo first, and you’ve missed him every day since. You were in the middle of the academic year at the elementary school you taught at, so they asked you to stay back, but Nanami had already accepted the promotion, thus the two of you made the decision that he would move to Tokyo first to get situated and you’d soon follow in the summer. It was a lot of stress to handle as just one person; searching for apartments on top of managing the heightened expectations from his boss from his new role, but he did it all without a complaint. Because he loves you, and that’s who Nanami was. Someone who would move mountains for you. He’s worked hard to make a place for you in Tokyo, one to call home.

“He really loves me,” you say to the man, softly.

“And you love him?”

“So much.”

“Was he your first love?”

Your breath catches in your throat from his question, a small chill running down your spine. The silence that settles could’ve lasted two seconds or two centuries, and you never would’ve known.

You lick your lips before answering. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Hmm…” the man hums. Bumpy roads are now smooth as he turns onto properly laid roads, the exit from your town onto intercity roads. “I can tell.”

“You can tell?” you ask, skeptic in your tone as you tilt your head at him.

“I can tell from your voice that there was someone else before. Someone who meant a whole lot to you, but he went away for some reason,” he says.

You’re not sure why there’s a lump in your throat from his words, a heavy thing with so much substance that it threatens to weigh your heart as well. Your eyes study the side of his face. “You’re getting all of that from my voice?”

The man’s expression is blank as if it were tabula rasa, something so different from the way you’ve felt for so long now, like your heart has been torn in two. There was something so tempting about it; the luxury of a clean slate. Of a new beginning. A fresh start. And it’s hard not to imagine how you would’ve painted things differently.

“Tell me about him,” the man says, the story he was looking for having been found. “Your first love.”

“He…” you start, shocked that you’re actually answering, but it’s like an invitation you can’t resist, “he was my first boyfriend…my first serious boyfriend. I met him the summer after high school. During a summer like this one.”

seven years ago. summer.

chapter 1. cupid’s arrow.

“C’mon, faster!” Mai exclaims, her hand wrapped around your wrist to tug you across the dim streets of downtown.

“Just— wait— Mai, please, slow down,” you’re stumbling after her, feet failing to keep up, and you almost crash right into her when she comes to a sudden halt on the sidewalk.

“This is it,” she says, staring up at the sporadically blinking neon lights of what appears to be a small venue, black marquee letters that spell out Backseat Serenade Tonight @ 10pm stand out to you in a way that feels haunting. “We’re so late, let’s head inside.”

Mai drags you inside, and the security guy is less than thrilled by the commotion as he stands in front of closed double doors. You can feel the bass of music vibrating the walls, accompanied by loud shrill screams and chants coming from inside, and the red velvet flooring underneath your feet fuel you with static as you two approach the man dressed in full black.

Mai fumbles with her purse to pull out her phone, and the man scans the barcoded tickets on her screen before giving the two of you wristbands to wear and then he opens the door for the two of you.

The inside of the venue is small but packed, minimal lighting save for moving lights that illuminate the band on stage, but it’s even harder to see anything over the heads of people with their hands up in the air. Mai’s grip on your forearm is tight as she roughly weaves the two of you through the crowd, determined in her gait but you feel the need to apologize to the people she’s shoving in the process. You’re surprised at how fast the two of you make it to the front barricades, thanks to Mai’s nimbleness alone, and your eyes raise to the scene onstage through wafting smoke through the air.

“Alright, alright, alright,” one of the band members chimes right as the final instrumentals of the song begin to fade. His hair is a pale silver under dusty lighting, pushed up from out of his face by a black headband snapped to his forehead, and his eyes are distinctly blue. He has an electric guitar hanging from his neck by a thick black strap. He raises both of his hands up into the air, waving them down a few times to calm down the crowd, and there are scattered hushes surrounding you and Mai. “This is our last song, and we just want to thank you all so much for coming out tonight! This crowd’s the best we’ve ever had!”

The people cheer in response as a light and relaxed melody begins to tune together from the instrumentals on stage. You hear Mai groan beside you. “What the fuck?! We missed the entire set?!”

Your hands curl around the cold metal of the barricade dividers and your eyes sweep across the stage. There’s a man in the far back with short black hair, bouncing his leg up and down as he’s seated behind a drum set, fidgeting with wooden sticks in his hands, and you’re puzzled by the fact that he’s wearing a very poorly fitted suit onstage. Off to the right, a man with pink hair is messing with the headphones snapped to his ears in front of an electric keyboard, spread fingers pressing down on chords, and you can vaguely see the black nail polish at the tips of his fingers. A woman with mid length blonde hair and pink highlights stands at the front, her hand wrapped around the mic resting on top of the stand. She’s laughing, tipping her head back at something else the electric guitar player says over the mic, but you’ve drowned out the words because your eyes finally land on what’s directly in front of you.

With an almost bored expression on his face, a man stands with a matte black bass guitar hung from his neck as he has one foot up on the top of a subwoofer located flush to the edge of the stage. His hair is raven black, longer at the nape of his neck with shorter layers scattered, and tendrils fall over his face. There’s a glint to his polished black shoes off of where you’re standing, and he’s wearing tight black jeans that cling to the thick and lean muscles of his calves and thighs, with a leather belt fastened around the circumference of his hips. The shirt that’s tucked into his jeans is just as tight to his skin, and a small gasp leaves your lips when you take in the sight of his arms covered in intricate patterns of ink. His right arm is practically covered from the wrist all the way up to the cut of his short sleeve, likely beyond, and his left arm has ink traveling up to his forearm only, like he’s still working on mapping it all out. You watch the way his biceps flex as he bends his arms, bringing his hands up to his face to push his hair back, and your heart is keeping fast rhythm with the music.

“Cho!” the woman at the front speaks into the mic, turning her head to look at this man who you’re sure is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “You’ve hardly said a single word tonight, baby. Not that that’s unusual though. Why don’t you say a few words before we kick off the last song?”

A bunch of whoos!! and ahhhs!!! and yesss!!! scatter throughout the crowd in the form of cheers and you watch the man furrow his brows together, a scowl forming on his face. There’s a band of black underneath his eyes that runs across the bridge of his nose, with perpendicular lines resembling arrows running down his cheeks. Dark purple eyes that match the dark shadows around them glint under flickering stage lighting as he takes his foot off the speaker and walks a few steps backwards to position himself at his stationed mic.

“Fine,” he says, and you’re watching the way his lips barely brush against the mic as he speaks, “This is our last song. It’s called Lost Cause. Enjoy. Or don’t. It’s up to you. Who the fuck am I to tell you what to do.”

There’s only a slight beat of silence from the crowd before they’re cheering again, while his band members just stare at him stunned. The white-haired electric guitarist yells into his mic something like “THAT’S IT?!” before the drum player cuts him off with three taps of his sticks in the air, and then the song commences from them on practiced reflex.

The energy from the crowd is loud in the last few minutes of the show, smoke rising in the air from the machines spread across the raised stage, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the bass player. You rest your forearms on the cold metal in front of you, the sight of Mai jumping up and down in your periphery as she headbangs and shakes her hair.

The bass player’s eyes start to scan the venue within what seems to be the final chorus of the song, chin tipping up and fingers continuing to strum as he assesses the back of the crowd first, then gaze darting throughout the center, before he begins to study the front barricade. You watch his every movement, mapping the trail of his sight, and your heart skips a beat when those dark eyes finally fall on yours.

His eyes briefly flicker to your left, to continue his study of the crowd, but it’s as if his brain just registered something with a delay, and he quickly moves his gaze back to you in a double take. His eyes widen, bored expression quickly turned into one of surprise with a glint to his pupils, and you swear you’ve been struck by an arrow to your heart.

“Yaaaay! Thank you everyone!” the woman at the front exclaims, pulling her mic from the stand to walk around to make work of the crowd. The white-haired man approaches the edge of the stage with a pleased grin on his face, high-fiving all of the outstretched arms, and the man at the keyboard simply waves a few times before incessantly tuning buttons on his headphones. Drum boy hasn’t stopped playing some sort of loud rhythm as an encore. Your sight is set back onto the bass player, and he’s looking off somewhere else now. Somewhere backstage.

“Hey!” the white-haired man exclaims once he’s made it in front of the two of you. “Mai! You made it!”

She reaches out to grab his forearm, tugging down harshly so he’s stumbling and dropping one knee to the stage floor, kneeling. “Of course I was gonna make it! Thanks for the tickets,” she’s yelling over loud ambient cheers and music, “this is my friend y/n, by the way. Oh, and this is Gojo, he’s the guy I was telling you about.”

You nod at him, and try to accept his outstretched hand when someone bumps you from behind and your hand is in favor of stabilizing yourself over the divider instead.

You can barely hear the laugh from Gojo’s position on the raised stage. “Just meet us backstage! We can chat for a bit with proper introductions and all.”

As the crowd begins to dissipate with people moving through the sets of double doors out back, Gojo hops off stage to take you and Mai through a side door that leads into a hallway that lines the back of the stage. You look up into the high ceilings with metal structural poles banding between the walls, and the dim yellow lighting in small bulbs bolted to the walls like a runway remind you of movie theater exit routes.

“So, what’d you guys think of the show?” Gojo asks, his arms raised up and hands interlocked behind his neck in a casual-not-so-casual way as he sends the two of you a lazy look over his shoulder.

“Well, we only made it for one song since miss barista over here was running late from her shift,” she sighs, whacking your arm once with the back of her hand. You glance down and realize you didn’t even have the time to take your frilled and wrinkled apron off. “But, from what we did get to hear, AMAZING! AWESOME! SPECTACULAR!”

Gojo is grinning wide as he turns around to face the two of you, continuing to walk but backwards as he slaps the raised hand that Mai had in the air for him. “I’m so glad, I felt the pressure to please was high since I’ve been hyping up our shows to you for so long.”

“We’ve only known each other for like two weeks.”

“I know. But PSYCH 210 lecture at the ass crack of dawn really brings two people together, y’know.”

Mai and Gojo continue to laugh and talk about random things college-related, and there’s a stirring feeling in your chest that you’re surrounded by people older and much more well-lived than you. You’ve just graduated high school, barely a few months ago, but Mai was a few years older than you, so any time she tries to introduce you to her college friends, you feel the need to perform or be someone that you’re not so they’ll like you, despite the fact that you’re aware of the fallacy in that. And tonight, that responsibility feels much more daunting for some reason.

There are voices heard further down the hall, and as you approach, you notice the drum guy, keyboard guy, and devilishly handsome bass guy are all loitering around in that area, along with a few other people they seemed to have invited backstage.

Gojo walks up to them, grabbing onto the bass man’s hand firmly before patting him on the back, then slings his arms around the other two. “This is Higurama,” he says, rubbing the top of the black-haired guy’s head with the knuckles of his fist, “he does drums for us. And this is Sukuna,” he says, about to repeat the same gesture to the top of his head but his wrist is grabbed and twisted, “ow, fuck, fuck, fuck– sorry.” Sukuna lets go of his wrist, scowl dissipating into sadistic amusement, and Gojo’s holding his wrist, now slightly red from the burn, with a pout on his face. “He does the keyboard. And all the techno sounds. And some other stuff I’ve frankly no fucking clue about.”

The two of them acknowledge you and Mai, along with the few other people who Gojo seems to know as well, and then Gojo’s approaching the bass player again before resting his elbow up on his shoulder, leaning his weight onto him and the man just crosses his arms across his chest, sending Gojo a side-eye. “Mai, I think you two have met before, but this is Choso. Choso Kamo, our bass player. Best bass player I’ve ever known to be honest. Be careful though, he might bite you.”

Choso scowls, rolling his shoulder back once to get rid of Gojo’s resting elbow. His eyes are on yours, boring into you deep, and when he darts his tongue out briefly to wet his bottom lip, you finally notice the silver lip ring near the corner of his mouth. “Hi. Nice to meet you,” he says, hand outstretched and you shake it with a mention of your name to him. The skin on his fingers feel rough from play, a small sacrifice to pay for the talent he’s harnessed over the years from plucking at strings. His eyes sweep down you once. “Why are you dressed like Strawberry Shortcake?”

“I–” you start, glancing down at your attire and feeling the heat pool in your cheeks, “I just got off a work shift. I work at a cafe.”

“Oh,” he responds, and you notice his hand is still holding onto yours, Your eyes trail the patterns on his skin, visible in more detail up close, and you find yourself lost in every line and swirl and scale and skull and cross, the only thing breaking you out of your trance being Mai’s jab of her elbow to your ribcage.

You gasp, snatching your hand away from Choso, and when you look up at his face, there’s a hint of amusement on it.

“Babes, he was asking you a question,” Mai says, looking between you and the man in front of you.

“Huh?” you ask, suddenly flustered and you swipe your palm down your work apron to wipe the sweat that begins to perspire at your palm from the lingering heat of his hand.

“I was asking if you liked the show,” Choso says, tilting his head to the side and now he’s allowing his eyes to travel all across you in any way he wants.

“I loved it,” you respond, almost breathlessly, “it was great. I mean– we only saw, like, one song. But still, really amazing.”

“Only one song?” Choso asks, his eyebrow raising, “that’s a shame. You’ve gotta come to more shows then.”

Before you can respond, there’s a feminine voice heard down the hallway, sounding an awful lot like the one echoing off the speakers inside the concert venue, and then the blond woman who was the lead singer of the band skips right up to the group formulating in this hallway before wrapping her arms around Choso’s neck and pulling him down towards her in a kiss.

You’re standing there stunned, eyes immediately averting from the scene of the two of them in front of you, but in the corner of your eye you can see his arm wrap around her waist briefly before he pulls her away from him, and the release of her lips from his makes a sound that for some reason creates a pit in your stomach.

“Cho, baby, I just had an insane conversation,” she says, still practically hanging from his neck as she stands on tiptoes, “with this record label guy. He’s apparently hot shit in Tokyo, and he wants to offer us this city gig ‘cause he thinks we’re a potential sign-on, and–”

Choso’s hand reaches to the back of his neck, gripping around her wrist to pull it apart from her other one, and then her arms fall to her sides and her heels flatten to the ground as she blinks up at him. “That’s cool, Sana, but can we talk about that later?”

Gojo’s arms cross his chest as he leans forward, glaring at the woman. “Yeah. And as a band, not just with your lover.”

Sana rolls her eyes and scoffs, placing curled hands low on her hips. “He’s not my lover, bitch. Unless he’s my lover like you’re lovers with a blunt on a sunday– sucked off in a car ‘cause you’ve got nothing better to do.”

“That’s offensive to both of us,” Gojo grumbles but Choso just sighs, unbothered, as he rubs at the back of his neck. He makes eye contact with you again, and his expression sobers as though he forgot for a second that you were still standing there.

Sana turns to you and Mai. “Hi, I’m Sana, nice to meet you guys. Sorry, I thought you two were some of our other friends, otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed Cho in front of you. I hate PDA, trust me.”

Mai lets out an awkward laugh as she shakes her hand, and you almost don’t want to shake her hand, but you do just to be polite.

“You didn’t hate PDA that one time I was about to bag the girl I’d been talking to for weeks and you decided to grind your sorry excuse of an ass right up against me in front of her,” Gojo grumbles.

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Whatever, she thought you were gay anyways. Would’ve done yourself a favor if you actually grabbed my ass.”

She ignores the insulted gesture Gojo makes, cutting off whatever words he was about to spew with words of her own. “What are you girls doing after this? We’re having a post-show party, you two should come.” She glances at you. “Uh, love, I’d ditch the apron though. Unless it’s, like, some sort of fetish for you.”

You’re defeated as your arms cross your torso to grip the hem of your apron and pull it up over your head, shaking your head a bit to allow your hair to fall back into place, and then you fold the frilly article of clothing neatly before hanging it over your arm. “It’s not,” you sigh, too exhausted to be subject to the title of your occupation anymore. A small flicker of your eyes to Choso tells you he’s staring at you.

Sana shrugs. “So you pretty ladies wanna come?”

Mai shakes her head. “No, sorry, my baby here,” she says, wrapping her arm around yours tightly, “just graduated high school recently, so she’s too young for a party. I’ve got a responsibility to look after her. And throwing her into a room full of sleazy drunk punk college dudes is the opposite of looking after her.”

Sukuna comes around, leaning his arm against the wall, smirk on his face, as he eyes you like you’re something to steal. “Just graduated high school? So you just turned eighteen, sweetheart?”

Mai glares daggers at him. “Get the fuck away from her, Super Senior. You’re icky. Also, case in point proven.”

Sana whacks the back of Sukuna’s head, and he all but growls at her. “Stop being creepy,” she reprimands him before turning to Mai again. “No, I swear, it’s not like that. It’s chill, minimal alcohol. No drugs. Just a small get-together with a few of our fellow friends, and friends of fellow friends, from the music scene.” She leans against Choso’s arm, wide eyes looking up at him, but he doesn’t lean into her. “Right, Cho? No scary guys for her to worry about?”

His eyes narrow at you, raking down your figure again, and his chest moves a little faster with his breath. “I’m against it. It’s no place for an eighteen-year-old. You’re a fucking idiot for trying to invite a girl who just recently graduated from highschool to a house party. She’s practically a kid.”

Your heart sinks from his words, and you feel juvenile standing in front of him, in a way that makes you angry and embarrassed at the same time, and you can’t bite back the words in time, “Whatever, at least I haven’t been on crack since the day I was born like you probably were.”

Almost all heads in this small hallway snap to you, if they weren’t already there before, wide eyes blinking before Gojo bursts out into a laugh, which dominoes into Mai’s laughter, and you barely register the way Sana looks you up and down once before forcing a smile. Choso’s surprised expression turns into a disgruntled one as he crosses his arms across his chest, and you can’t help but watch the stretch of his inked skin over his muscles as they flex.

“I’ve never done crack, shortcake, and your lame insult only proves my point on your immaturity,” he scowls, leaning his upper body forward towards you, and his gaze briefly drops to your lips.

Sana comes in between the two of you, pressing herself up against him to get him away, and he takes an involuntary step back and now he’s scowling at her too. She turns around to face you, and there’s that forced smile again. “Uh, y’know what, sweets? Cho is sooo totally right, no place at all for a—I’m sorry, how old did you say you were?”

“Eighteen,” you say with a slight grit to your teeth.

“Oh! Yeah, no place for you, sorry,” she says, with a small jut of her bottom lip to signal a pout.

You roll your eyes at her, then glance past her at Choso who’s looking at you like he’s still got a few retaliating words for you on his tongue, but then he’s dropping his gaze to the neckline of your shirt, eyeing the shape of your breasts, even dipping further down your legs and you let out a scoff.

“You sure enjoy checking me out for someone you think is practically a kid,” you spit back.

He’s not angry this time, the corner of his mouth simply tipping up slightly into a smirk. “I meant you’re too young to drink, but you’re old enough to fuck, so spare me the attitude.”

Your cheeks flush at his comment, nonetheless made in front of a group of people who were practically strangers to you, and you’re about to give him a piece of your mind when Mai grabs your forearm and Gojo places himself between you and jerkface.

“Woah! Look at the time,” Gojo chirps, glancing at his wrist that was absent of any time-telling device but he rolls with it anyway, “should probably head out now, since the venue’s closing soon. Y’know, grab our stuff.”

Mai nods her head at you in response to his words, sending a single glare Choso’s way before exchanging some pleasantries with Gojo and then dragging you down the hallway with her towards the exit.

“Hey–” you begin to complain, her grip on you starting to hurt, and you eventually yank your arm away from her before she opens the backdoor exit. “Let’s go to that party.”

Mai sighs, leaning her back against the door and crosses her arms. “No way. Your mom wanted me to get you home before midnight,” she says as she glances at the time on her phone, “and it’s close to midnight.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m an adult now, I don’t have to adhere to a midnight curfew, like I’m fucking Cindarella.”

Mai raises an eyebrow at you from the profanity, recognizing the fact that it’s something you just forced into your vocabulary in a way that doesn’t suit you. “I already said no.”

“Take me or else I’m going to tell your mom about the nipple piercings you got last week.”

Mai hisses a sharp breath through her teeth. “You’re a bitch.”

“Take me,” you deadpan.

She tilts her head back so that it hits the metal of the door, and then she’s pushing her back against it to open it, the rush of cold wind from outside brushing past the two of you as she steps into the night and you follow her. “Oh my god, fine. But only for a little bit, and let’s get the lie straight right now–you had explosive diarrhea at the concert so I couldn’t take you home right away since you were incapacitated in the restrooms.”

“What? Why do I have to be the one with explosive diarrhea?” you ask, frown on your face but there’s a skip to your step as you follow her down the street to where she very poorly parallel parked and you open the passenger side door. She doesn’t bother answering you as she settles into the driver’s seat and her car roars to life with a few struggling turns of the key in ignition.

“No drinking,” Mai says, voice strict with eyes locked on yours, and it’s the last thing she says before she starts driving.

The house is just a few miles from the venue location, and Mai seems to have been there before since she turns the navigation off once she turns onto a street that has her driving switch to from perusal to more casual.

Gojo is the one to greet you two at the door with wide eyes and a drink in his hand. You notice he’s changed out of his stage attire into something more casual, and likely in a rush too since his hair is disheveled, and you figured that you and Mai barely got here after they did. The surprised look on his face is quick to turn into a pleased one at the sight of the two of you. “Oh sweet you two actually came,” he comments, waving a hand for you two to come inside, “figured Kamo would’ve scared you off.”

You roll your eyes, “where is that jerk? I still have a few choice words for him.”

“Babes, let it go,” Mai sighs, “Not worth your time.”

“I concur,” Gojo says, “but, if you really want, he’s upstairs putting some of my stuff he borrowed for tonight’s show back into my room. You can…” he glances down at you once, “uh. Cuss him to death? Or whatever you can manage, I guess. But just don’t fuck on my bed, please. That’s my only rule.”

“Why do you sound like that’s a rule you’ve had to make often?” Mai scoffs, amused, while your cheeks feel hot.

Gojo slumps his shoulders in some type of comical defeat. “I don’t wanna talk about it…” he mumbles, voice trailing off and turning on his heel to walk away while Mai follows him off with more follow-up questions he doesn’t seem receptive to answering.

Your eyes glance over to the staircase, studying for a moment as loud party music fills your ears before making your way over and up the steps. As you head down the hallway leading into bedrooms, the floorboards creak until your sneakers even over soft carpet, and you hear soft sounds of clattering off to the left. There’s a door that’s half ajar leading into a warmly lit room, and you deftly peek your head through the opening.

Choso stands near the foot of the bed inside a messy room, black boxes and cases and wires surrounding him as he fumbles with unplugging some sort of audio station pad from another piece of hardware. His hand grips tightly around the thick black rubber coating of the wire, and you watch the flex of his knuckles that tense the veins running up his arm, sleeve of the shirt he’s worn all night stretching to accommodate the roll of muscle at his upper arm. With a solid yank, the chord releases itself before the wire whacks him straight in the face and he grumbles a fuck under his breath and he rubs the skin of his cheek, to which you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight of.

His furrowed and frustrated expression turns into surprise as his eyes flicker to the entrance of the room. He stands up straight, and then there’s that bored expression again. “Oh. Shortcake. I thought I said you’ve got no business being here.”

“Yeah, about that, I’m waiting for you to apologize to me,” you say, leaning sideways against the doorframe as you cross your arms over your chest.

He sighs, eyes moving away from yours to busy himself with the jungle of equipment he’s practically drowning in, as if he couldn’t be bothered by your presence right now. “Apologize for what?”

You make your way inside the room, foot pushing aside anything sprawled on the floor that’s in your way so you can continue to approach him, and you stop just when you’re just a step away. His gaze is still set to the ground as he’s crouched over slightly, but it shifts from the speaker he was toying with to the shape of your shoes instead.

“Apologize to me for being so crass,” you say, “after we had just met.”

He slowly straightens his spine, and you’re a little shocked to find the height that he has on you. His expression is curious, eyes narrowing slightly like he has you all figured out already, and it pisses you off. “Crass is such a prissy word to use, princess. Try ‘apologize to me for being a massive dick’ or something, and I’ll start to take you more seriously.”

“Why are you so rude?” you ask, anger building up inside of you all of a sudden. “I’ve barely met you, I don’t see how I could’ve upset you in any way. Yet you’ve already insulted me in multiple ways tonight, and it’s not a cool look for you. Trust me.”

“You’re the one that basically called me a crackhead,” he counters, but there’s no real offense behind it.

“Yeah, because you called me a kid,” you say, face tightening even further with anger, “even though I’m an adult.”

He sighs, closing his eyes in irritation, and tilts his head up to look at the ceiling briefly as his mouth hangs slightly open, all as if he’s running thin of the capacity to deal with this conversation, and then he looks back down at you again. “Shortcake, I didn’t call you a kid ‘cause of your age. I called you a kid ‘cause you’re just so–” he starts, eyes traveling down your body paired with a vague gesture of his hand towards all of you, and you find yourself shifting on your feet to stand a little more poised, “you just seem so innocent and clueless and, uh, forgive me, naive.”

“You’re the clueless one here if you still think negging a girl will get you anywhere with her,” you say, hands clenched in fists at your side now.

There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he tilts his head at you, some of his dark hair falling over his forehead from the motion and a few strands weave with his eyelashes. “I’m not trying to get anywhere with you here, sweetheart, unless you’re wanting that,” he says, voice almost purred at the end as he steps over a guitar case on the floor to get closer to you.

You’re unable to make eye contact with him when he’s close and you can smell the earthy notes of his cologne, mixed with another scent that seems more distinctly him that makes your head spin. Your gaze takes in the sight of his forearm, the one with scattered tattoos trailing up his arm but not yet fully inked in. You wonder what he’s saving the space for, and what he’s willing to let in.

When your gaze flickers up to his face again, you’re a little surprised to see his expression is softer. He suddenly holds his forearm up in front of you. Your eyes signal confusion to him, but he just keeps his arm up the same.

“You’ve been ogling my tattoos since we met,” he says, voice low, “if you’re curious, then just have a closer look.”

Your breath picks up in speed, and you hesitate for a moment but it’s true. You were curious. Your hands shakily hold onto his forearm to keep it still as you study the ink on his skin. You twist his arm as much as his joint allows, and he lets you handle him in any way you want, and you swear the snake tattooed on his skin moves as if it were alive. A dark blossoming rose with highlights of burgundy red catches your eye near his elbow, and you brush the back of your hand against it. Your fingers accidentally find his pulse at his wrist, and you find his heart is beating fast.

You run a flat palm up his arm, the skin to skin contact feeling intimate, and your fingers stop when they tuck under the fabric of his sleeve. You feel the warmth and curve of his bicep, lightly wrapping your hand around it, and you blush at the sight of how small your hand looks on him.

“What does this one mean?” you ask, not meaning for it to come out as a whisper, but you feel like his answer is meant to be kept a secret. Your thumb swipes over small roman numerals permanently etched into him over muscle.

“It’s my dad’s military tag,” he responds, voice quiet like yours.

You tear your gaze away from his skin to look up at him, and you realize he’s closed enough distance between the two of you to where his face is just inches away. From the moment you looked up, his eyes have been on your lips, and his brow furrows as if he’s fighting some voice in his head that’s testing this harmony between the two of you in this moment.

You swear he’s about to kiss you, since there could be no other explanation for the way he was looking at you, but instead he clears his throat and his face is first to distance from you before he pulls his arm back as well, and then a small step backwards. “Sorry,” he says, and he almost sounds awkward. It startles you, because it’s the first time he doesn’t sound cool or calm or collected.

“That-” you start, “...wait, what are you sorry for?”

His eyes widen, and you see the heaviness under them for a moment, “uhh…I’m actually not too sure.”

Your head feels clear now that he’s not close enough to breathe in, and you blink a few times as your annoyance from earlier resurfaces amidst the lingering energy he just broke between you two. “Start with ‘I’m sorry for calling you a kid, and then also just now calling you naive and clueless,’” you say, foot tapping impatiently, “and then, in front of all your bandmates, mocking the fact I’m not old enough to drink, and shamelessly traveling your eyes over me, and then–” your breath catches slightly as the words fail to leave your tongue, cheeks feeling hot, “and then saying–” you try again, but the thought only falls flat, and he’s taking a step closer to you again.

“And then saying that you’re old enough to fuck?” he asks, finishing your sentence for you, but there’s no remorse in his tone at all.

His hand suddenly finds the small of your back and he pushes gently so you take a stumbled step towards him, like he needed to have you close to him again. His lips brush against the top of your head, and the sensation sends a hot feeling through your chest. “Choso,” you reprimand him.

“Fuck,” he exhales, like in cynical disbelief, “my name sounds so sweet coming from you.”

It makes no sense, but you grip his shirt at his chest just to make contact with him, and you brave yourself to look up at him, wondering if he can see the hint of worry in your eyes, because he already feels like something you can’t resist.

His eyes are dark now, different from the tenderness in them before, and he’s freely studying the features of your face. “I don’t want to fuck you, Shortcake, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re a little too good for me to do something like that.”

His words say one thing while his eyes say another, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close, and you’re astonished at how little he cares about the clear contradiction in his words from the way he holds you. His gaze slowly travels down from your eyes to your lips.

“What about–” you start, heart beating fast in your chest as you see the glimmer of the silver ring pierced through his lip. You bite back the words.

But he reads your mind, because his head dips down towards yours and he captures your lips in his, slow and sweet at first before pressing more firmly, more decisively with both hands flying to hold your waist. A moan muffles in your throat at the sensation of his bare fingers coyly traveling under the hem of your shirt, and you can’t help but slide your arms up over his shoulders, locking them behind his neck to pull him down closer to you, and he sighs in response as he presses your hips flush against him. The chill metal of his lip ring has the plush of your bottom lip tingling cold, and when his tongue swipes across to warm it for you, your mouth opens with ease. You taste spearmint on his tongue, and his lips curve against yours in what feels like an amused smile, large hands now slid so far up your shirt that his fingers reach the band of your bra.

“Hey, Cho, do you know where–”

The trill of a feminine voice in the air cuts through harshly, and he pulls his lips from yours but not without a moment of reluctance. You two turn your head to the door, and you see Sana standing there, eyes wide and blinking as she takes in the sight of the two of you standing in what feels like a guilty proximity from how her eyes silently curse you.

You can only manage an awkward laugh, fist shoving against Choso’s shoulder but his hands are still placed firmly on the curve over your lower back, dangerously close to the plush of your ass, and your hips are practically pinned to him while you do all you can to lean your upper body away. “Oh–sorry, this…is not what it looks like–”

“I…” Sana starts, and you can see the hurt in her expression, but she quickly corrects it, “Oh! Ah, was just lookin’ for Cho here,” she says, making her way into the room, and a harsh shove of your fist against Choso’s chest finally has him relenting to let you go. Your posture immediately stiffens when she approaches Choso’s side, and she playfully pushes his arm but the effort is weak. “Kissing girls in Satoru’s room is seriously not a good idea, Cho. That freak probably has cameras in here to make sure people don’t bump uglies in his room again after that New Year’s party.”

Choso gives her a pointed look, like he wasn’t caught up on that drama, but you’re just standing there with your eyes flicking between the familiarity of the two people standing in front of you. Why wasn’t Sana jealous? She was looking at you ten seconds ago like she was a whole lot of jealous.

“What are you looking for?” Choso asks her, and she holds her red plastic solo cup with her drink in it out for him to hold as she crouches down to the floor to sift through the equipment now surrounding the three of you.

“My lucky mic,” she says, “Gojo said it’d be here.” There’s a hint of something in her voice, something that mirrors betrayal if you’re perceptive enough.

You watch Choso lick his lips once, eyes darting to you, before he’s crouching down too to help her look. “For something that allegedly means a lot to you, you sure do a shit job at looking out for it,” he comments with a sigh before pulling out a black case from under three other ones and handing it to her. “It’s here.”

“I’m–” you say, taking a step back and almost tripping over a guitar case, “I’m, um, going to head downstairs. Mai is probably looking for me.”

Choso raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s still crouched down next to Sana, and he’s about to speak when Sana cuts him off.

“Okay. Bye,” she says, still rummaging through things mindlessly even though she had already been given what she was looking for.

Choso makes a move to stand up, like he wants to see you out the door, but Sana’s hand grabs him by his forearm, eyes still not meeting his, and there’s a beat of confusion in his eyes as he studies the side of her face. But you know what sort of look she probably has in her eyes right now, and you know only because you’re also a girl, and all girls know what it’s like when a guy you love doesn’t want you in the way that you want him. All you can do at this moment is feel sorry for her.

The atmosphere in the room begins to suffocate, and you head out of the door in a rush.

present day. summer.

“He kissed ya the day he met ya? Hmph! That wouldn’t fly with me,” the man seated beside you says, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he shifts slightly in his seat to puff his chest out.

“Hmm,” you hum as you look out the window wistfully, memories that you had locked up for so many years opened like a pandora box that fills your chest with warmth but has your fingers trembling with anxiety because you know how it all ends. “You wouldn’t…let a man kiss you on the first day he met you?”

The driver humors you with a hearty laugh from his chest, at least. “Not talkin’ about it that way, darlin’. I’m talkin’ about my daughters. I’ve got two girls of my own. A man should keep his hands to himself the first time he meets a lady. At least that’s what I’ve taught ‘em.”

There’s a small smile that tugs at your lips at his words, the love he has for his daughters heard clearly through his strict tone. You left out a lot of the details that probably would’ve angered him on your behalf even more, so the fact he still ended up getting worked up about it has you a little amused and reflective at the same time. “How old are your daughters?” you ask, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear, watching the wind-rustled plains of grass that you two have been driving by for a while now.

“They’re a little younger than you,” he comments, his expression now a bit more serious, “one just graduated from college, she’s startin’ more school in the city soon, and the other’s still in highschool. She’s turning sixteen next week.”

“Ah, sixteen,” you muse, “that’s a confusing age.”

“You got that right,” he gruffs, “the other day, she called me on my way home from work to bring some drink called a boba. Fifty-two years of life and I never even knew there was a damn thing called a boba! Why would anyone want swirlin’ stuff in their drink?! Anyways, the shop got her order wrong, and when I brought it home, she refused to drink it, called me the worst dad ever, then stormed upstairs to slam the door on her room. I turn to my wife, and she’s shakin’ her head at me like I’m the one that did something wrong!”

You laugh, then press your lips into a smile. “I’d have to agree with her on that,” you joke, and he lets out another disgruntled noise that has you laughing again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve lived with my wife and those two girls for over two decades,” he sighs. “I’m used to it by now. All three are equally pains in my ass, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your smile drops a little as you look at him more contemplatively. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as he speaks, and you realize it’s familiar, but the answer of where you’ve seen it before fails to arrive.

“My youngest,” he starts again, “she’s been listenin’ to really loud music lately.” He presses one of the buttons underneath the AC vents, static noises coming to life before he changes the output to bluetooth. “My wife says it’s some sort of phase, but I’m not likin’ the music. Always sounding tempered and inappropriate.” He plays a song from his phone paired to the car, speakers flowing with music, and a chill runs down your spine the moment the first few notes fill your ears. A song so painfully familiar, so connected to your soul it’s as if your heart still keeps time with it to this day.

“See what I’m talkin’ about?” the man says, “Lots of words about skin and cigarettes.” With a shake of his head, he lowers the volume. “She’s obsessed with this band, it’s probably a band similar to your old lover’s from the sound of it. She’s got posters of ‘em up on the wall, and she took the picture of us on our first fishing trip together out of the picture frame on her desk and replaced it with this man. This silly-lookin’ white-haired man that always looks like he’s just pretending he knows how to play a guitar. Hmph! She keeps saying ‘dad, I wanna go to their concert!’ There’s no way in hell I’m allowing that.”

You stare down at your lap, brow furrowed from the realization flashing through your head, and your thumb nervously passes over the skin of your other hand. In your periphery, you see him glance over at you once, and he sighs before stopping the music and speaking up again.

“It’s fine,” he says, “my youngest got her sister into the same band, and she likes one of the other ones. Plays bass. He’s too rough-lookin’ for my daughter. Arms covered in tattoos, he’s even got some on his face! She keeps dreamin’ about havin’ him for a boyfriend, but if she brought that home, there’s no way I’d approve. I’d scare him off with my rifle.”

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, and you realize what a small world it is. Or, you realize just how big Choso’s world must be now. So much bigger than he or any of the other members of his band could’ve ever imagined. For once in a lifetime, so rare and pure, are dreams that are fully realized.

“Gosh,” you respond when you realize you’ve been lost in your own revelations for too long, “that’s an…extreme response. You sound like my father, though.”

“Hm,” he responds, “I’m sure. Did your father approve of this lover of yours? The one that’s makin’ moves on you so fast and too soon?”

You lean back in your seat with your head hitting the headrest. It’s been years since you’ve felt like you’re being lectured or reprimanded for anything, but the feeling comes back to you at this moment as if no time had passed at all. No matter how old you get, you’ll never forget how humbling the feeling was when you thought you knew everything at eighteen, just to look back and realize you didn’t have a single clue.

You sigh. “No. He didn’t approve. Far from it.”

seven years ago. autumn.

chapter 2. the juvenile & the delinquent.

[to be continued]

a/n. eeeeeppp thank you very much for reading n supporting my new fic!! i hope you enjoyed :') still a lot more to uncover n unpack hahah i'm so nervous to start a new fic but i'm also very excited!!! i love choso sm but i also love nanami so this is gonna be interesting to write. also TYSM to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this omg your support means the world to meeee. love you all sm.

taglist: @joemama-2 @sweetpo1son @lilluna12 @polarbvnny @4y3sh4 @sedona-the-l0bster @horisdope @ilovenana88 @thexmistress @atsushirolll @flvrrg0d @strawnanamilk @nighttwingg @indieotterxoxo @pirana10 @bakuhoethotski @tvdumarvelhpsimp @lavender-hvze @whereflowerswenttodie @alwaysfreakingout @kaitoluver @3xv5s @wrenabbadon @erwinslut @winsga18 @ynishalee @yungbloode

love u all so much!!

729 notes · View notes

jacarandaaaas · 6 days

Note

First off, I LOVE your camp counselor au, it's so cute! I can see Moana teaching the kiddos how to weave baskets or weave different objects and such.

Yes, I know Mirabel handles the arts & crafts, but I like to think Moa will join in sometimes.

But I saw your babysitting duo idea and I find that cute too! Like, imagine a cute daycare center kind of like the Playcare poppy playtime but smaller and A LOT safer (Or the daycare in fnaf security breach if you don't watch poppy playtime stuff).

Mirabel obviously handles the arts and crafts part; she also teaches the kiddies how to knit. Knitting needles aren't all that sharp but there are rubber guards on them just in case.

Camilo makes the snacks and usually plans the activities for the day. He tries to make up new things to do but it's a little hard. I HC Camilo knows his way around the kitchen.

He has a sock puppet theater to entertain the kids with when he doesn't feel like shifting. He's funny so he has the youngins always cackling.

Maybe the daycare has five parts? One is where the kids play and hang out and such (in the front), the other is where they sleep (in the back). The colors in the sleep room have more blueish and purple colors.

It smells like lavender and vanilla to make the kids sleep easier. Mira and Cami both take turns watching over them. Basic image of the layout:

Superstar Daycare Music (Loop with reverb) | Five Nights at Freddy's: Security Breach - YouTube

The daycare should be as big as the one in the video with the sleep room being a little smaller.

Even though Camilo has a list of all the kids' allergies and memorized them by heart, he and Mira have EpiPens locked and loaded just in case. No accidents have occurred yet but neither of them is willing to take the risk.

I think they would most likely babysit kids 5-10. It's a little easier than handling babies because at least kids at those ages can voice their opinion or explain why their crying.

And this, I find it funny. Milo don't play when it comes to pick up hours.

Camilo don't play when it comes to pick up hours. Mirabel calls the kiddos "butterflies" and Camilo calls them "Lil chameleons" or "Lil shifters".

When it comes to boo boo's both of them are locked and loaded with colorful band aids and homemade candy too. I think Mirabel is the one who makes the candy, she seems like a candy maker to me.

If you want to know more let me know, I'll be brainstorming in the meantime. This idea is so cute to me!

hi! thank you so much glad you love it!! and yes omg I didn’t even think of that! moana absolutely would weave baskets with them! As for the activities they both help eachother out with them it’s just not their main focus! moana probably doesn’t know much about handicrafts but she’s happy to help! and mira sucks at watersports but she’s there for support! it’s very collaborative!

Ahh glad you like the babysitting idea! I feel like in a more modern setting the two of them would work at a daycare over summer! mirabel definitely would do all kinds of crafts with the kids! She’s someone who I cant see restricting herself to one kind she does a bit of everything! camilo and the kitchen😭😭 oh he’s definitely familiar with it! The sock puppet theater is adorable omg! I can imagine him also letting the kids put on their own shows with it! that’s such a sweet idea !! Aww I love this concept! I can imagine mirabels mochila being just FULL of bandages and candy! like she somehow always has candy on her and nobody knows how! camilo being the stricter one is so funny😭 even mirabel is taken aback cause he’s never been so assertive before omg!? she’s like “damn I didn’t know you could do that”

This idea is so fun!!

#encanto #encanto disney #disneys encanto #mirabel madrigal #camilo madrigal #thank u for the ask!!#the idea of them babysitting as a team is so funny to me #like !!!!#I think the sock puppet thing is so cute!!#my asks <3

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gloomzombie · 1 year

Text

I'll Bury You For This

Pairing: Jeff The Killer X Male Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4,861

Chapter One: Smells Like Teen Spirit

August 16. 7:20 am.

The sound of my alarm blaring woke me up. I groaned and flipped over on my bed, turning the damned thing off. I hate it but it's not like anyone else is gonna wake me up.

I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Ah, today would be the first day of school. The first day of my senior year to be exact. God, when did I get so old? I'll be turning 18 in two months!

"Ughh," I exclaimed in a tired voice. I stood up and went to my closet, taking out some clothes. I took those to the bathroom, my mind fogged with sleep. I'm not exactly sure how I feel starting the new year.

I mean I'm gonna go through this year, then it'll be my last summer before I start college. It feels abnormal to even think about it.

I took my shower and put on my clothes afterward. I wore some skinny jeans, a random band shirt, and some accessories like necklaces and chains. I also decided to style my hair a little so I didn't look terrible. I also put on some pencil eyeliner. Liquid eyeliner is way too feminine for me.

After all that was done, I grabbed my backpack and made my way through the hallway to the kitchen. I took out a chocolate chip muffin I bought yesterday and stuffed it in my bag.

I always eat my small breakfast in school. I can't stand being here for longer than I have to. I check the time on my phone. It read 7:58 am.

Perfect. I can go now and won't be too early. I put my phone in my pocket and grabbed my keys off the kitchen counter. I stopped at the door to put my shoes on.

"You were just gonna leave without speaking to me?" My heart dropped in my chest at the sound of his voice. Shit. I finished tying my shoes and stood up straight, looking over at where it came from.

Down the hallway stood my dad, who I've recently started calling John, in a sweat-stained tank top and plaid pajama bottoms. Classic deadbeat dad fit. "Sorry. I didn't want to wake you but I also wanted to get to school a little early." I fiddled with the hem of my shirt anxiously.

My dad rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'll just call your mother to come get your stuff while you're gone. Maybe you'll be happier there since you hate me so much."

I sighed, trying not to feel anything as I repeated my recurring responses. "I don't hate you." "Why do you hate me so much? Let's talk about this because I wanna know." He stared me down, waiting by his bedroom doorway.

"I don't hate you." "Uhuh. I believe that."

I turned the doorknob, knowing if I don't leave now I'll be here for a long time. "I'm not done talking to you! Don't walk away from me when I'm speaking to you, little boy!" He yelled at me as I walked out the door.

I quickly locked the door and about ran to my bike. I picked it up and took off as fast as I could, ignoring the sound of the door slamming open.

8:18 am.

I got to school later than I wanted to, but I didn't really think much of it. I immediately went to first period, not in the mood to deal with everyone in the hallways.

I went inside and took my seat in the back. I was one of the only people in the classroom. Even the teacher wasn't in yet. I sighed, slouching in my chair.

I let my eyes wander over the classroom and rolled my eyes. I need to listen to music if I wanna get through the day. I took my phone and earbuds out of my pocket, putting the earbuds in my ears.

I played my most recently made playlist. I decided I'd save my muffin for later. I don't really have much of an appetite after this morning.

As the students packed into the room over the next few minutes, I continued listening to music until my best friend's familiar face showed up.

I smiled, turning off my music and taking out my earbuds. "Xander!" I called. He turned his head toward my direction, previously eyeing the girl he was talking to. "Hey!" He turned back and muttered something to her, to which she giggled in response.

He made his way over to me. "Shit. Honestly, I wasn't sure you'd show," He smirked, taking the seat beside me. I rolled my eyes and scoffed. "Could say the same thing to you."

"Touche touche. Soo did you ever get that guy's number?" He asked, lowering his voice a bit as he spoke.

I gave him a confused expression, racking my mind for what guy he could be talking about. He spoke up again while I was still thinking about who it could be.

"The guy with long hair that worked at Spencers?" Xander rolled his eyes. My expression relaxed. "Oh, him? Nah, last time I went he was with another dude and they kissed so I mean." I answered, putting my earbuds back in my backpack.

"Wellll...you could still have asked for his number," Xander wiggled his eyebrows and I punched him in the arm. "No! I'm not doing that when he was obviously with someone." I roll my eyes, exasperated by him already.

"I would have if it were a chick." "Yeah, 'cause you're a manwhore." Now it was his turn to punch me. We laughed and talked more until the teacher finally showed up.

"Sorry students, I was caught up in the teacher's lounge," Ms. Johnson cleared her throat and put her things down on her desk messily.

"Yeah, caught up with Mr. Evans," Xander said just above a whisper. The girls in the back of the room giggled. Ah, so the fangirls are already starting.

Ms. Johnson's face scrunched up a tad as she obviously heard his comment, but she ignored it. "Now, today we won't have a lesson since it's the first day, but I do have some word searches that you will be graded on." She then told someone in the front to pass the papers back.

As the papers were being passed around, people started conversations with their friends. Xander was too busy talking to the girls around us. I try to tune it out since he can be pretty gross.

I felt a small tap on my shoulder and I turned in my seat. "Hi, sorry for bothering you. I just wanted to say I really like your shirt and like- your style in general." It was a girl I had never seen before. She had an alternative style, her teased hair and many facial piercings making it obvious.

She wore all black and on the front of her shirt was a metal band logo I recognized- Aversions Crown. I had to look down at my shirt, forgetting which one I slipped on. Carnifex. "Oh, thanks. I like yours too." I gave her a nice smile. I rarely ever found people that liked metal here, the heaviest music people usually like is older rock music and the occasional Metallica song.

"Thanks! They're one of my favorites," she averted her gaze. I could tell she was flustered even under her pale makeup. "Oh! I'm sorry I forgot to tell you my name." She realized. "I'm Lily," her black lips turned up at the corners into a soft smile.

"It's fine. I'm Y/N," I smiled back at her. It'd be cool to have another actual friend. "Lilyy! Are you done talking to that cute boy yet? I still need to talk to you about what happened with you know who," a girl from a few desks away whined.

Lily covered her mouth with her hand. "Sorry about that. Talk later?" She asked. I nodded. "Yeah sure." She walked back over to the other girl and they started talking and giggling amongst themselves.

I sighed and looked back over at Xander. He was still talking to the girls that surrounded him. I never understood why he was so popular. He's an emo dude and aren't emo dudes supposed to get bullied?

He is pretty. Really pretty. But how in the hell did they think that too?

"Oh! Class, can I get your attention please?" Ms. Johnson spoke up. I looked over at her, but only a few other people did as well. "I said, can I have your attention?" She raised her voice a little and that got a majority of the class's attention.

"As you know, we don't usually get too many new students. But, this young man is an exception!" She smiled as she looked up at the "young man" beside her.

Oh? Beside her stood probably one of the prettiest guys I've seen at this school, and that's saying a lot since he had a mask on, concealing the bottom half of his face.

That got everyone's attention. "Go on, introduce yourself." His eyes slanted ever so slightly, obviously annoyed. Was it obvious or am I just paying a lot of attention to him?

"I'm Jeff. That's all you need to know about me." His gravely, deep voice caught me off guard.

Oh my GOD his voice. I inhaled sharply, sitting up a bit straighter. I need to calm down.

Ms. Johnson sighed, clearly just not wanting to deal with anything today. "Alright. Find an empty seat anywhere and finish this by the end of the day." She handed him the word search and his eyes scanned the room, probably looking for a seat.

I watched as his eyes landed on me, or rather the chair beside me then actually to me. Oh god, focus focus focus. I quickly averted my gaze to the unfinished word search on my desk, fiddling with the pencil in between my fingers.

I can't focus. His footsteps came closer and closer till it was just the sound of the plastic chair moving against the linoleum floor. I shouldn't be stressing out this much over a new guy but damn. There's something about the way he carries himself that really catches my attention...but y'know his looks help.

"Hey." I heard him speak up and I took my time to turn my head towards him, with a lot of self-control mind you. "Oh, hey." I let my eyes rest on his. I note the bluish-grey color they were.

"Saw you were eyeing the hell outta me. What was that about? You have a problem?" Jeff asked, his tone harsh and defensive. I gave him a confused expression. "No? Am I not allowed to look at you?" I asked sarcastically.

I watched his furrowed eyes soften a little. Does he like attitude or something? "Not in the way you were looking at me." He retorted, his voice laced with venom. He leaned closer to me and I could swear I could feel my face heat up.

"Listen. I'm gonna say this once and only once. Don't mess with me. I promise you, you won't enjoy what happens." Jeff's eyes pierced into mine as his words registered in my mind.

The hell? Threatening me when he doesn't even know me? 'You won't enjoy what happens.' Yeah we'll see about that.

"And what's going to happen if I do?" I retaliated. I don't like being threatened, especially by someone that doesn't know anything about me.

Jeff's eyebrow raised and he chuckled, an evil sound coming from behind his lips. "Oh, you really have no clue who you're messing with here." "Enlighten me."

"Alright, class! We have two minutes until this period is over. Gather your things and you can take your word searches. Make sure to turn them in to me before the end of the day." Ms. Johnson's voice interrupted our conversation.

"Just leave me alone if you know what's good for you." Jeff stood up quickly, picking up his bag in the same movement then walking out the door. My eyes lay on the doorway for a second.

Well, he sure is interesting. Interesting and hot, but that's not important.

10:48 am.

My next class was pretty much the same. Again, it is the first day so we didn't do much. Xander doesn't share it with me and neither did that Lily girl, so I drew most of the period.

After that class ended, I headed into the hallway. I made my way to my locker. That new kid, Jeff, was rummaging through the one beside mine. Oh great. So he took the locker that was vacant last year.

I sighed and went up to my own, unlocking it and putting my books in there that I wouldn't need right now. I couldn't help but scrunch my face at how dull it looked. I'll have to decorate it more when I can. I can't stand how boring it looks right now.

I could feel Jeff's burning gaze on the side of my head, but I ignored it. I shut my locker and made my way to third period.

I was again one of the first people there, taking a seat in the back as usual. I took a book out of my bag and picked up where I left off, tuning out the chitter-chatter and miscellaneous noises of the class.

I continued reading, getting really into the chapter, until I heard the sound of the moving of the chair sat beside mine. I look up from my book. Jeff sat there next to me, his gaze set nowhere in particular.

I let my eyes roam the room and notice something. Really? There are so many other empty chairs. After all that he said to me in first period, he's still gonna sit next to me? I couldn't help the smug expression that grazed my face. Jeff's eyes moved over to meet mine.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" he snapped. I smirked. "Well, it seems to me you're contradicting yourself." Jeff's eyebrow raised in confusion. "You threatened me just an hour ago yet," I motioned towards the chair he was sitting at, "you still choose to sit next to me."

Jeff huffed, his eyebrows knit in a tight line. "Whatever. I just like to sit in the back. Has absolutely nothing to do with you." He turned his gaze back to look in front of him as if he were thinking.

I chuckled. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, sugar." Jeff's head flung back to look at me. "The FUCK did you just call me?" He raised his voice a little, causing us to get a few looks from people.

I smirked, leaning closer just a bit. "Sugarr." I pulled back and looked back at my book, smiling at the expression the simple pet name left on his face.

12:10 pm.

After third period ended, I made my way back to my locker and put some more stuff in it for tomorrow. I took my bag with me as I made my way through the hall.

My gaze was kept at my feet. I usually keep to myself and am only ever bothered by people who somehow like me. I'm pretty sure it's just because I'm best friends with Xander though.

"Y/N?" I stopped my trip to the cafeteria and turned to look at who it was this time. It was a guy that stopped me this time, which shocked me a little bit.

It's mostly girls that stop me and won't stop giggling and smiling as they try to get me to go out with them.

"Yeah, that's me," I responded. I don't recognize him. He had fluffy brown hair and wore some baggy pants and a brown striped sweater. He was shorter than me, so I had to look down at him.

"I know you don't know me but, I've always thought you looked really cool. Do you think we could sit together at lunch?" He asked. His eyes were avoiding mine, looking down at the floor as he fiddled with his fingers. Is he really this nervous to talk to me?

"Uh.. yeah. Yeah sure," I decided it wouldn't hurt. Xander would have to suck it up if he wants me to sit with him.

I continued my walk to the cafeteria, but now with this random guy. I probably shouldn't call him random but what else would I call him when I don't know him?

We went through the doorway as we arrived at the cafe. I looked around, noticing Xander. I was planning on telling him I'd be sitting with someone else today, but I stopped myself from approaching his table.

With the way every chair at it was taken by another bleach blonde girl with self tanned skin, I have a feeling he wouldn't care one bit.

I shrugged. It doesn't surprise me. "Isn't that your friend?" The shorter male's voice spoke. I sighed. "Best friend, yeah." I kept my response short as I started to walk in the direction of an empty table.

I quickly sat in one of the chairs and the guy sat in the one directly in front of me. "Is he always an ass like that?" He muttered, which made me laugh a little.

I slid a hand through my hair, not caring if it messed up a little. "Yeah, that's just him. It doesn't really bother you after a while." I started rummaging through my backpack and pulled out my muffin and a water bottle.

"Oh, I didn't tell you my name did I?" I turned my gaze toward him as I zipped my bag back up. I shook my head and watched as his face got a little red.

He averted his gaze, biting his lip. "Sorry. I'm Gage." I took my muffin out of the wrapper as he nervously introduced himself.

It was a cute name, and it suited him very well. "Cute." I replied, voicing my thoughts aloud. I couldn't help the smile from grazing my lips as I watched his face redden and how his hand moves up to cover his mouth.

"I don't think so," Gage responds, his eyes going to mine for a split second before moving away again. I tilted my head. "Welll," I took his hand in mine and pulled it down from his face, "I think it's perfect for you."

His eyes met mine once more and he couldn't hide how red his face has gotten at this point. I chuckled and let go of his hand.

I can't ever help myself. Flirting with people is my thing. I love to make them flustered and watch as they squirm under my gaze, especially if they're pretty.

"I..Uh..." Gage looked away once more. I pulled my hand away from his and started eating my muffin. At least I'll be getting something out of this school year.

1:30pm

The rest of lunch and fourth period went by in a blur. The time I had left in lunch I spent getting to know Gage more.

He's pretty cute honestly. Not only was his appearance cute though, his personality was adorable. I think we're gonna be good friends, especially if Xander keeps distancing himself from me.

Fourth period was really boring, but math usually is. At least the work was just review work so it was really simple.

I make my way to my locker, putting my math textbook in it. I made my way to fifth period, not really paying attention to my surroundings.

My next class is history, which I'm not insanely thrilled about but I'll be alright. If it were something more interesting like Greek or Roman history I'd be all for it but it's just gonna be American history yet again.

I walked into class and made my way to the back, taking the seat closest to the window. I took my notebook out and opened it.

I started doodling, as I'm yet again early. I sighed, my thoughts elsewhere as I absentmindedly drew whatever my hand wanted to.

I continued drawing, even when the class started filling up more- and even when he sat next to me once more.

It's probably not gonna end well, drawing without thinking. If I'm not thinking, time is going by faster which means I'll be going home faster.

I let my eyes refocus onto my page, looking at what I drew. It was merely a sketch, but it wasn't too bad. It was a random person, just someone I drew easily.

The eye shape, nose shape, mouth shape, body shape...all were easy for me to draw which is why I drew it so often.

I let my eyes trail over to the desk beside mine, then to the person sitting at it. Jeff's eyes were staring down at my desk, my paper specifically.

I moved my gaze back over at my paper. I looked back at him and realized I drew someone that kind of looks like him. The hair, style, body type, eyes. The only thing different was how the person had a nose and mouth.

"Why did you draw me?" Jeff's gravely voice spoke up, as harsh as it was earlier. "I didn't mean to? I mean I can't even see the bottom half of your face dude, calm down." I rolled my eyes at his rudeness.

Seriously, why in the hell would I purposely draw him? He's not exactly the most unique looking person out there.

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Look, I don't understand your obsession with me but you should stop while you're ahead." He kept his eyes locked onto mine, like he was trying to blow me up with his mind or something.

I smirked. "I think you're projecting a bit here, lovebug." Jeff's eyes widened a bit before he hit the table with his hand lightly. "The fuck is with the stupid pet names?"

His small outburst made a few people turn their heads to look at us. I didn't really mind it so why shouldn't I push a little further?

I leaned closer to him, resting my elbows on my knees as I looked up into his eyes. "Oh I think we both know the answer to that, honey."

Jeff scoffed, his eyes squinted a tad. "You can't just walk up in here looking that attractive and not expect me to react to it." I kept my smirk as his disgusted expression faded into a confused one, one of his eyebrows raised slightly.

I leaned a little closer, whispering words I didn't necessarily mean. "If we weren't in a class filled with other people right now, I'm not sure I'd be able to control myself around you." I pulled back, taking in his expression.

The way the tip of his ears reddened, and the way his eyes widened; the way he was left utterly speechless. I knew I got in his mind, exactly like I wanted.

Teasing people has got to be my favorite thing to do. Some people think you're being a dick when you do that, but I really don't care. It's fun, especially when the other person isn't expecting it.

"Alright, class. Today we're going to do a simple word search of the American presidents since it's the first day." I didn't even realize the teacher walked in. Nor did I realize how everyone else was here or how many of them were listening. The giggling from some of the girls and the way a few of them had smiles on their faces proved just how many there were.

I sat back in my seat and turned my attention to the front of the class. The silence from the man beside me kept the smile on my face from fading away.

2:50pm

Sixth period went by all too quickly, as it was Art- my favorite class of the day. It was a simple assignment, a self portrait in your own style.

Xander shares that class with me. It bums me out a bit that we only have two classes together, but that probably won't bum me out for too much longer.

Xander barely spoke a word to me, keeping his attention on the girls that were constantly surrounding him. I drew even when I was done with my assignment.

He didn't come up to me once. The only time we talked was when I did it. I asked him if he'd want to hang out after school, but he shut me down quickly with "Nah, sorry dude. I'm gonna be "hanging out" with Jade tonight if you get what I mean," and ended it with a wink.

It felt degrading. Obviously I'm not oblivious to his sex life and whatnot, but he never makes time for his best friend. I don't want to dwell on it though.

I walked out of school, taking my bike and getting on it. I looked around to make sure I wouldn't get run over or something and started making my way back home.

As much as I hate it, I have to go straight home. My lack of friends really gets to me sometimes, especially with the fact I'm starting to lose the one I thought I never would.

3:15pm.

I leaned my bike against the house and stared at the white door in front of me. I chewed at my lip nervously. I know I have to, so I push myself to put the keys into the doors and unlock it.

I opened the door and locked it behind me. "How was school?" I heard my dad speak up from the couch.

"It was alright," I replied simply, going to the kitchen. "Ah, it was just school, huh?" His voice was loud enough the neighbors could probably hear him.

"Yeah." I threw away some trash, including the stupid drawing I made in History. I took a water bottle out of the fridge and went back into the living room.

"God, why are you so hateful to me?" My dad asked. I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose in annoyance.

I can't stand this already. "How am I being hateful?" I asked. "The way you act." I looked at him, rolling my eyes.

"How do I act?" "You know how you're acting." "No I don't," I made my way to my room, putting my backpack down and sitting on my bed. I took my phone out, plugging it in.

"Don't walk away when I'm talking to you." I looked up and there he was, at my doorway.

I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself down a bit. "What do you want?"

"Why are you being so rude to me?" He pushed. "I'm not being rude to you." Fuck I hate this. "Yes you are."

Why won't he just stop? "God, can't you just leave me alone?" I opened my eyes, staring directly at him.

His jaw dropped open and his eyes furrowed into a frown. "The hell did you just say to me?"

He walked forward, causing me to flinch back into my bed. "Why'd you do that? You know I'm not in the habit of hitting you."

Doesn't mean I like when you get close to me. "What did I do? What's your problem with me?" He insisted.

"I don't have a problem with you." I groaned. I don't want to deal with this today. "Yes, you do but fine, don't tell me. I'll just call your mother to come get you."

I stayed silent. I wanted to tell him fine, whatever will get me away from you, but that would keep him talking.

He finally left my room, so I got up and closed the door. I sighed, turning back to my bed and walking over. I took a sip of my water and sat down again.

I took my phone and went to spotify, turning on my favorite playlist. The sound of My Chemical Romance's I don't love you filled the room.

I lay back in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I started thinking about what happened today. I met three people: a girl that seems nice but I only share one class with, a guy who's sweet but I don't have any classes with, and a guy that wants nothing to do with me that I have three classes with.

And of course, Xander. We hung out all but three times this past summer. Three times. In less than three months. And he barely talked with me today.

I have a feeling this years gonna be shit, like always. The only difference between last year and this year is my dad's diminishing memory.

I moved my hands up to my face. I didn't realize the tears that were slowly making their way down my cheeks.

I pulled the multiple blankets on my bed over me, turning on my side and closing my eyes. I can't stand being awake any more today.

#jeff the killer #creepypasta #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer x male reader #jeff the killer headcanons #jeff the killer x you #creepypasta x you

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changingplumbob · 7 months

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Honey, I'm home!

TLDR: I'm back. Incoming reblogs. Normal posting resumes 21st at 9am NZDT (GMT+13).

My cat summary, tales of travel woe and random trip tidbits below.

Cat! The cat survived the cattery. Apparently she wasn't eating too much and just stayed in her cage area (I say cage but it was a neat two level set up, she had an individual food bowl, litter tray and cat bed). She's lost a bit of weight so she'll be getting bigger feeds the next few days. She's periodically patrolling the house and hiding in my bed which is fair.

Travel! So our first bus was running late. Trying to make up for it the bus sped over the hill. Imagine sitting sideways on a bus with a large suitcase as the bus quickly drives a winding downhill road. So fun right (sarcasm is heavy here). We made the train but halfway through the trip it stopped and sat for 10 minutes because of an "incident" (yeah I'm curious to). Bus from train station to airport was fine but the baggage check in went down just as we reached it. Then the plane was delayed by about half and hour. Fast forward to this morning. Checking in at the airport early to discover our 8:15am flight was cancelled because the aircraft was damaged overnight. They put us in a van for a nice hour and a half trip along a sometimes empty, sometimes standstill motorway. At the new airport we checked in fine, but what do you know the plane home was delayed. Hour delay this time. Eventually back home, took the airport bus to the train station no problem. What do you know, the train line was having errors and replacement buses were running instead. At the home train station we just gave up and got a taxi to the vets, and then home.

Wedding! It was nice, my cousin and his bride were so damn happy. It was in a place called the Tree Church where the structure is actually made out of shrubs so it's like getting married in a church made out of nature. The sun was shining and she walked down the isle to an instrumental of Taylor Swift - Wildest Dreams. Her dress was gorgeous, their vows were sweet and I was sitting in an aisle seat so got to throw flower petals over them as they walked up the aisle together. Then (remember I'm in summer people) they had an ice cream truck after a champagne toast and they had vegan ice cream!!!

Reception! It was at a vineyard and half the area had trellises with grapes growing above you. There was so much food, and some vegan stuff! Because my cousin has a large family (lots of aunts and uncles) I was the only cousin from our branch. But you know when the band started playing ABBA I had to get up and dance with my aunts because how can you not dance to Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (Man After Midnight)? I sang along, loudest to Love Story obviously.

Tea Ceremony! So my cousin's wife (is she my cousin in law now? IDK), her parents are Chinese and came to NZ before she was born. She had lots of family fly over from China and Canada and they brought her and my cousin these beautiful red robes for a tea ceremony. Basically it allows the married couple to honour their elders by serving them tea. The couple also get money and jewellery from elders. Apparently all the Cantonese speaking relatives told them they hoped to see a grandchild next year, no pressure cousin.

Internet! As some of you probably realised the air bnb had wifi so I was able to keep up on some people's posts. But because I'm an overthinker I wanted to keep my post about going away near the top of my blog. I'm now going to blog some things I wanted to reblog during the 5 days which you may well have already seen but I want to reblog anyway to show support.

Me! This whole thing has been about me but anyway, I am very sleep deprived. I was not sleeping well before we left. The house we were staying was so creeky I barely slept while we were there. So I'm going to do extra rambles because that's what happens when I'm tired. Thank you for a couple of sunflowers today, with my travel chaos I needed them. I keep them in my inbox for low days but appreciate it beyond measure. I'm going to try get to my asks today but sleep may claim me first. The favourite facts are coming I promise! Lastly check out this puzzle that I was fiddling with intermittently for 3 days. I can't believe I eventually solved it!

#I'm so tired right now #So very tired #I talk so much when I write #So decided to #ramble ramble ramble

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iodotsys · 1 year

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Exactly! I think exposing yourself to new music even if you end up not liking it is a huge part of learning what you do like too! (Also it's super cool that you're looking for inspiration for your own band!!)

Prob my last little batch for ya bc I'm at work:

Do It All The Time by IDK How

Ghost by Confetti

Lowlife by Poppy

The Moss by Cosmo Sheldrake

Wasted Summers by Juju<3

This is Love by Air Traffic Controller

Do It All The Time by IDK How But They Found Me

The distortion (I believe its tube distortion I very well could be wrong though) on the vocals throughout the song felt like a bit too much. The melody didn't go anywhere, but it had a good beat. I have heard this song before and I don't think its one of the band's best. I don't really like this song much, just sounds produced for the radio. 5/10.

Ghost by Confetti

Sorta plain, sounds like a lot of songs I've heard. Definitely has a good beat, but not much going on with the song musically. Was enjoyable to listen to but again, it sounds like a lot of other songs out there, especially from the mid 2010's. 6/10.

Lowlife by Poppy

I have a love/hate relationship with Poppy. I have a few of their songs favorited. This is not one of the songs of theirs I like. I do enjoy how her voice is the melody for this song against a backtrack, but their voice is mixed far infront of the backtrack. It drowns it out. And there are times where their voice just stays on one note, which is a little painful to listen to. 4/10, kinda hurt my ears.

The Moss by Cosmo Sheldrake

Didn't like, its spreading false information with the first lyric. Moss does not grow on the North side of trees. …fjrdkghsjkl Sorry I had to say that. XDD Anyhow, I enjoyed the up and down feel of this. I felt like I was listening to a vocal metronome, if that makes sense? Made me wanna tap my finger on the table to the beat. I enjoyed it, but I wouldn't listen to it again. 5/10

Wasted Summers by Juju<3

This song reminds me of old 90's Blur. The voice singing super off key in the background was annoying and ruined the song for me. Would've been a nice chill song otherwise. Other than that, the guitar rift was alright, nothing special though. 3/10 because of those backup vocals.

This is Love by Air Traffic Controller

The synth in this was very good. I loved the fluttering sound it had going from left to right. The pulsing sound of the vocals really went with the background synth. The singing off beat at the end was off putting though. It came out of no where and took me out of the groove of the song. I think he was doing a 1/2 meter against a 4/4 which was just strange sounding. (I don't know if those are the correct meters, but I did my best trying to analyze them) 5/10, it was alright.

No seriously, this type of stuff can be imperative as a musician. If I only stew in things I constantly listen to, that's damning myself to stagnate artistically. And thanks! My band's called Scent of Steam. I just released my first album this April and I've got a new single coming out on Sept 30th.

If you're curious, here's the link to my album. You can listen if you so desire, but nbd if not.

Thanks again for the songs! I enjoyed reviewing them.

#i review music

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numetaljackdog · 2 years

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what i'm listening to 1/5/2023 (song notes under cut)

spot. link//yt link

Laura Les - Haunted: haunted. by laura les.

Radiohead - Packt Like Sardines In a Crushd Tin Box: i literally could have just put all of amnesiac in here but that would exceed the number of tracks i allow myself to put in any given WILT. just know that this is one of my new favorite songs of all time and i've been listening to the album on repeat for about a month

The Cure - Charlotte Sometimes: when i found out that the cure had a song with my name in it, i knew i had to listen to it forever and ever regardless of how good it was. thankfully, it is actually a pretty damn good song. i've been wanting to get my hands on the book it's based upon as well, but that's still a work in progress.

Fontaines D.C. - Skinty Fia: this is the other album i've been listening to nonstop for the past month. as i mentioned in the last WILT, i didn't love this record when it came out, but upon a relisten i've been obsessed with it. this is also where the theme of this month becomes glaringly obvious - it's been a lottt of post-punk for me recently. just the winter mood i guess

Nirvana - Marigold: really great b-side from dave. i'm not as familiar with the in utero era in general but i feel like this song is indicative that dave was always going to break off and do his own thing, even if things had gone better than they did. sort of comforting to think about, i think

Wham! - Last Christmas: i listened to A Lot of christmas music throughout december, for various reasons and occasions. this song, though, is special. even though christmas is right in the title, it feels like such a real song. the holiday is almost incidental in what it actually is trying to be about. for these reasons, i have decided that i genuinely like this song as an any-time-of-the-year listen

Fontaines D.C. - In ár gCroíthe go deo: SUCH a good opening track... i also just love that they start the album off with some irish language lyrics. it lets you know right away that the record is going full dive into its subject matter. plus, as some of you know, i've been learning irish for a couple of years now, so it's cool for me to get some further experience by listening to music in the language. god i could talk about this album forever. i sure hope i'll get another chance to do that later on

Deftones - My Own Summer (Shove It): obligatory nu metal song. i've been watching the music video for this one a lot, it's a good video. in general, i've been getting into deftones a lot more recently than i had been for a long time. i'm also putting a live cover that linkin park did, which is a good cover but i think it's funny (in an odd way) that they don't do the "shove it, shove it, shove it" parts. like i guess they were trying to get the crowd to do that, but i feel like mike could have shouted it a couple of times to demonstrate what they were meant to be doing. idk lmao

Pink Floyd - Welcome to the Machine: i've been listening to a lot of pink floyd as well, especially since i've been going through the top albums list on rateyourmusic. there's a ton of great stuff, i really like the band, but this song is one of my favorites. as demonstrated by my "synthetic solution" tag, i really like allegories that involve machines and stuff like that, so this fits right with me

Kurt Cobain - Burn The Rain: weird little demo. i haven't listened to much of the montage of heck recordings but it's always interesting to hear kurt so unfiltered. the dialogue at the end of this one is curious too; he sounds so... unguarded. i am normal about these things

Radiohead - Knives Out: men will see a mouse and be like is anyone else gonna eat this and not wait for an answer

Fontaines D.C. - Nabokov: oh good, my other chance to gush about this record! this is a great closer on top of everything else... plus it's one last chance for the harmonies and backing vocals to really shine. seriously, if you're into post-punk or alternative stuff at all, give this album a shot, it is golden stuff

Bauhaus - A God in an Alcove: yet more post-punk! i've been enjoying this album a lot too. something about this song in particular just feels so unnerving, like trying to squeeze through a space that you aren't certain you can fit through. maybe that's just the junji ito i've been reading this month too

Tems - Higher: i'm all in on the tems train. she's such a great performer, and the live version on the youtube playlist is definitely worth checking out. this is a great ep, very soulful, and although my favorite track might actually be ice t, higher is definitely the one that rolls around in my head most frequently. honestly just listen to the whole thing. i'm not even usually a big r&b fan and i'm rocking with it big time

Radiohead - Life In a Glasshouse: one last spot for amnesiac. it feels only fair, after skinty fia got three spots too. speaking of great album closers, this is another. i lovelovelove the inclusion of jazz influence into. well, into most things, but especially when radiohead does it. the chorus almost feels brutal, in a way, like being still in a room but with every single muscle tensed

Radiohead - Reckoner: does this count as cheating? this feels like cheating somehow. well anyway, in rainbows is also a really good record, and this song felt incredibly familiar somehow. i can't think of any context in which i would have possibly heard this song before, as it hasn't been my impression that this was like some big hit for them or anything. in any case, that feeling makes me want to keep coming back to it again and again

Looking Glass - Brandy (You're a Fine Girl): here's a little change of pace from all the alternative. looking glass were one of those unremarkable bar band one-hit wonders who wrote a really good pop song and then immediately slipped through the cracks of history. i listened to this album and found it mostly unremarkable, though i did also enjoy the song "from stanton station." not much else to say, it's just a pretty damn good pop song

R.E.M. - It's The End Of The World As We Know It: i don't need to explain this song, i imagine you all know it. however. next time you listen to it, pay attention to the backing vocals on the chorus. that's what's been keeping the song on loop for me. there's a unique catharsis to the repetition of "it's time i had some time alone"

Pizza Kids - We Like Pizza: thanks kiwi

youtube

as a side note, the full version of this song is almost funnier during the second half because it literally sounds like it's being arranged and mixed in real time by someone who has no idea what they're doing or how much longer the song is going to keep going

#*char noises*#talking pop #Youtube

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chorusfm · 2 years

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The Clamor

Recently I was able to catch up with Aaron Louis of The Clamor to discuss his debut, self-titled LP. The new album was released today, March 17th, and we premiered the record yesterday. Congratulations on your debut album release! Can you tell us a little bit about how The Clamor started and how you first got involved with some of the collaborators on this record? Thank you! I appreciate you having me. It was all very unplanned actually. I had been in bands most of my life but I took a calculated break from playing music to focus more on filmmaking, theater production, writing, and working in the modern art world. That break stretched into almost 20 years. When the pandemic hit though, and the world slowed down, I picked up the guitar again. I really did so for just a bit of nostalgia but I fell back into songwriting immediately. As for my collaborators, my first connection was to the producer, Omer Leibovitz. I’d followed his music career for a long time, from his band Courtesy Tier up to his current solo stuff, and when I found out he was mixing and producing I approached him with a couple of my demos to see if he’d be interested in them. After the first mix, we fell right in and before I knew it we were making an album. And the process continued like that. Omer was really good at figuring out what it was I wanted a song or a particular instrument to sound like in spite of my unperfect demos and he assembled a perfect group of musicians to get that sound. Layton Weedeman, the killer drummer from Courtesy Tier, Will Raines on keys, Gary Atturio, who played bass, and Kirk Schoenherr on lead guitar, and then Jeff Berner at Studio G who tracked the record and finally Alan Douches to master. What are some of your main musical influences? I feel like I could go on and on with this but from the vault, I’d say The Fall, The Damned, Big Audio Dynamite, T.S.O.L., Adam and the Ants, The Cars, The Replacements, Alton Ellis, The Clash, and everything Joe Strummer ever touched. Can you talk a bit about the overall creative process behind writing these songs? This project was a lot different than all my past musical projects in that I used to focus on just the basic rhythm guitar structure and the lyrics of a song which I would always write simultaneously leaving all the other instrument parts up the band. On this album, I composed all the parts, whether on guitar or synth or otherwise, which gave me a pretty fleshed-out song before I began to start working on lyrics. By separating these processes it allowed me to break out of that pattern and put more focused thought into the lyrics. And to stop worrying so much about song structure in general. And more importantly, to have fun with it, while still trying to get something meaningful across. Is there anyone you’d be interested in collaborating with in the future? Any of the old geezers still alive that I mentioned in my influences! What/who are you listening to now? Tubeway Army over and over! I recently re-watched Gary Numan’s performance on Urgh! a Music War which I hadn’t seen since the ’80s. When I was a teenager, I didn’t give his music a chance because I just could not get past that little space cart he was driving around on stage. It still cracks me up and I’m still baffled by it but man I really missed out when I was a kid. His music is incredible. What’s next for The Clamor? Will you be playing any shows or touring at any point? Yes, and excited to do so. We will be announcing some tri-state area shows late this summer. --- Please consider becoming a member so we can keep bringing you stories like this one. ◎ https://chorus.fm/features/interviews/the-clamor/

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prqltothesql · 2 years

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Been feeling really really depressed recently. Like REALLY depressed since my birthday. So here’s what my 2022 has been like

- Started an indoor drumline at the brand new HS that I’m teaching at. We did a show of Spider-Man music from the Spider-Man PS4 game, the Into the Spider-Verse movie and Avengers. We did standstill so it was low-commitment, low importance, but they had an undefeated season (of two shows lmao) and the kids did great. - Taught Middletown’s pit and wrote their show which was in dedication to Kevin, who passed in July 2021. We did Jupiter, Schism, Wish You Were Here and Waiting on the World to Change, which are 4 very different songs but I think I made it work. Kids did great, I met a new tech named Lauren from UD who was super awesome and became one of my closest friends during the season. At Wildwood, while we only finished 5th, we finished 2nd in music, getting 1st overall in music achievement from the only judge on the panel worth a damn. Was my last season after working with them since 2014 and a great way to go out. - Saw Tool, Dream Theater and John Petrucci live in concert this year, as well as seeing 3 wrestling shows; NJPW, AEW and WWE. - Saw The Batman, Doctor Strange 2, Jurassic World: Dominion, Thor: Love and Thunder, Rogue One IN IMAX!, Clerks III, Black Panther 2 - My dad died this year. I’ve been wrestling hard with my grief all year and it’s hitting really hard as we get to my birthday, Christmas and the New Year, all things that were extremely important to my dad and us as a family. A few weeks before he died, he started doing a bunch of stuff around here. Fixing my ceiling. Putting up floor jacks in the basement, fixing things, offering to buy me things I wanted. It was very weird, like he knew he was gonna die and didn’t have long. Two days before he died, he had a mini-heart attack. He said he threw up and was sweating and having chest pains, every sign of a heart attack. Yet that same day, he had his friend over to record and was helping him record a song. The day before he died, he woke up feeling great, we ate dinner, he was in an awesome mood, everything was fine, and he woke up the next day, had another heart attack and died. My sister didn’t wake me up cause she didn’t want to leave him alone, even though I was right upstairs and it would have taken just a few seconds. I don’t know if there was anything I could have done, or anything anyone could have done at that point. I never got to say goodbye to him. I never got that chance. I woke up and he was dead. - I planned his funeral and burial, I think I did a good job but didn’t write a eulogy, just gave some haphazard speech that went only a couple of minutes. That still haunts me. I miss him so much and think about him every day. The grief, the regret, the anxiety, the depression, the guilt. It’s not been 5 stages of grief, it’s just been a recurring cycle, ping-ponging back and forth between all of them, never quite hitting acceptance. - After he died, I gained a lot of weight and wasn’t active in the summer to the point where a brisk walk made me short of breath and caused my back to ache. After doing more band, I felt a lot better, but I still haven’t lost any of the weight I put on. - I went and saw a Blue Rocks game with Rachel on Father’s Day, just so we didn’t have to sit at home and refresh social media and see a bunch of stuff about Father’s Day. I went and saw 2 drum corps shows with Drew and it was really really fun just getting to go and be a spectator and talk shit and watch shows. - I met a girl online who lived in Ohio who we talked for 3 months and then she blocked me on everything and ghosted me out of nowhere. So there’s that. - On a whim, I applied for a job teaching the front ensemble at George Mason University. The director is a guy I’ve known since I was in HS, also a Delaware guy. I’ve never taught or marched world class, I’ve only taught HS for a majority of my teaching career. I didn’t think I’d get it, but I applied anyways, interviewed for it and was offered the position. I’ve gone down 6 out of the 8 weekends so far and it’s been a blast but very humbling. I never would have gotten the chance to do this had my dad been alive. He hated me doing band, and now with me driving down on the weekends and being gone all weekend, stranding my sister here by herself, he’d have lost it and it would have been miserable. But instead these weekends are like little adventures for me, and I’m learning so much and getting my name out there for possibly other things. It’s a bittersweet thing. - I got COVID. After the first marching band competition of the season, I felt bad, wound up being sick, wound up testing positive for COVID. My sister also got it. I’m vaccinated, my sister is not, but it both hit us equally as hard. That was really rough. - Odessa went to ACCs as a competing unit for the first time this year and it was at Hersheypark Stadium, so getting to take this little band to such a big time place was awesome, and we finished 3rd in percussion and 3rd in colorguard, which was huge. Last year was weird because I was still dealing with strife with my dad about teaching again, I was double dipping at Middletown because I was loyal to Kevin’s memory and Garrett, and Odessa was only doing a backing-track-led Festival class show. And Middletown had a core of seniors in the drumline. So it was hard splitting my time. But this year, committed only to teaching one school, it was a lot better. And I enjoy working with Odessa because the kids are brand new and only learning what I’m teaching them, so I can drill in fundamentals. I don’t have to break bad habits or change culture. I’m creating the culture, I’m creating the technique program. It’s been super fun. - I’m still at my job. We lost our manager back in February and we gained a new one back in August. It’s been rough in that transition as she’s changing the paradigm in our department, but it’s been good. - We lost our second to last dog, Wolfie, back last November. The last remaining dog, my dog Angel, she doesn’t have long either, so I’m dealing with a lot of sadness and anxiety about her, hoping she’s good, trying to keep her health the best I can these last few days, weeks, months she has. Overall, I’m in a decent position in my life. I’m still single, I’m still in the same crappy house, I’m still stuck with my sister. But I’ve made moves, I’ve improved as a teacher, I have two really great jobs lined up teaching and I’m having a blast at both, whether I’m good or having success or nobody likes me or not, it’s been very fulfilling. And I’ve done a lot of cool stuff and despite the soul-crushing sadness of losing my dad that has taken hold of in my heart, a lot more opportunities to live life and have fun have opened up for me and Rachel and it’s been interesting learning how to live in this new life.

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hungercityhellhound · 2 years

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New H.E.A.T.

youtube

#damn! these bands are putting out so much new stuff this summer #I'm losing track!#H.E.A.T #Youtube

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crewmannumbersix · 2 years

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ok but steddie/ronance dirty dancing au

steve and his parents always go to the same place in the summer, because it’s a chance for them to “be together as a family” but his parents are always leaving for work stuff, leaving steve at this godforsaken camp by himself

at least he has nancy and her brother and his friends, who have become steve’s make-shift family at this place, at least he has robin, his favorite staffer who has also become his best friend... maybe it’s better that his parents are gone so he can just hang out with her and nancy and the kids after all

and this year there’s a new music teacher, who all the kids are obsessed with and steve’s not jealous, really he’s not, but seriously the guy can’t be THAT cool, dustin

but then robin invites nancy and steve to a staff party and the camp “band” is playing, including robin, one of the other activity leaders steve remembers being named chrissy, and the new music teacher, eddie apparently, who steve finally gets more than a fleeting glance at and oh no... he looks so good playing that guitar and singing and laughing with robin and shut up nancy he’s not blushing oh no he’s coming over fuck fuck

and they have some awkward (on steve’s part), slightly adversarial (on eddie’s part) meeting and robin’s like eddie chill out this is steve my best friend and eddie’s like ugh rich people

and the camp band is getting ready for this battle of the bands thing at the end of the summer and it will win them a lot of money and they’re practicing in between their jobs, but then chrissy gets pregnant because of some jackass rich boy at the camp, jason, and oh shit they’re down their lead singer and they already only had one guitar and drums shoot shoot!!

steve was the one to find chrissy crying after jason was a shit, because he was hiding from the children to get just a moment of peace, a moment of not being a babysitter, and so he overhears the whole thing and is like.... i can actually play guitar and i’m not awful at singing? and nancy actually plays the upright bass, but she could probably figure out bass guitar cuz she’s a genius?

and at first eddie is like hell no not the rich camp attendees we can do this on our own but robin’s like, oh eddie come on steve’s actually a good person and surprisingly good at music and he’s offering to help and also i have a crush on nancy so this is a GREAT opportunity to spend more time with her please please

and eddie’s like ugh fine but i have to work everyday with steve to make sure he gets my songs right it took forever to make sure chrissy had the vocals down, and you have to work a lot with nancy to help her get ready to play a bass guitar and robin’s like oh no how ever will i survive....

and then eddie and steve spend all this time together practicing and eddie realizes how sincere and sweet steve is, how much he cares about the kids, how open he is to understanding eddie’s music, how much he actually pays attention and values what eddie says

and steve realizes how brilliant and fierce and brave eddie is, how he’s not afraid to be himself, the consequences be damned, how everything in his life should have made him mean and angry, but he’s just so kind and soft and full of joy

ANYWAY shenanigans ensue, they all fall in love, they kickass at the battle of the bands or whatever, and NO ONE PUTS STEVIE IN A CORNER!

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #robin x nancy #steddie fic #stranger things fic #anyway i absolutely do not have time to actually write this right now but.... maybe some day #in the meantime if ANYONE ELSE wants to write this or draw it i will kiss you on the lips (consensually)

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ace-writes-stuff · 2 years

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Those Good Days Passed

| Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader |

A/N: This is a reupload! I made a new writing blog to clean some stuff up! Previously known as @eddie-is-baby. I made this new main blog so I can start doing things like taglists & masterlists since they’ve been requested! Thank you for your support and patience! ☺️

This is a completely self-indulgent piece of writing. Odds are this will never see the light of day, but on the off chance I pull some courage out of my ass and post this bad boy, I am sorry. In an effort to put a metaphorical Band-Aid over my heart, I have decided to write my first multichapter fic throwing Eddie into the events of season three and fixing his completely unnecessary death scene. That is all :)

Summary: After years of being away from Hawkins, you're finally able to come down for a visit again. You’ve got a cabin, a ride, and a loving cousin to keep you company. The only problem is- you need a job, and it just so happens that a certain metal-head is looking for a new coworker.

Contents & Warnings: Fem!Reader, Reader is over 18, Multichapter Fic, Reader rides a motorcycle

Word Count: 4k

Chapter One - Cabin in the Woods

Your fingers were starting to go numb from how long you had been gripping the steering wheel. The drive from Hawkins hadn’t been an easy one. In fact, it had taken several hours to get anywhere near the damn place. In that time, you had been cut off twice, flipped off three times, and at one point, you even had to pull over to fix a blown tire… Overall, the trip could have gone better, but your journey was finally coming to an end.

As the scenery changed from seemingly never-ending monotonous highways to a sweet little townscape, you couldn’t help but sink down in your seat. This isn’t the first time you had been to Hawkins. Oh no. You had visited your aunt and little cousin many times throughout your childhood. Fourth of July, Christmas, Thanksgiving, all the big ones but as the years passed, the drive seemed to get longer and longer, and your parents just couldn’t spare the time to make the trip out anymore. However, now that you were older and your uncle conveniently needed someone to housesit his cabin, they finally agreed to let you visit for the summer.

Dustin, of course, had been ecstatic to hear about your extended stay, mainly because, in his own words, “it would give him and his party a new base of operations.” Whatever that meant. Despite your younger cousin's strange ideas of what house sitting meant, you were still excited to visit. It had been a while since you had last seen him, and if last year’s Christmas card was anything to go off of, the kid had really grown up.

The only things you were genuinely concerned about were one, becoming a babysitter for the summer, and two, finding a good enough job that you wouldn’t have to worry about babysitting duties. Aunt Claudia had mentioned something about a new mall opening up, so you had written up a few resumes before making the drive. Hopefully, whatever little shop decided to take you in wasn’t too mentally taxing, but you figured any mall job would work out just fine.

When the crunch of gravel under your truck's tires grew heavier and the bumps in the little dirt driveway became more frequent, you knew you had made it. However, just in case there was any doubt at all, Dustin was sitting there on the front few steps of the patio to welcome you into town. He was smiling, but his teeth were missing again! You could have sworn he had gotten dentures at some point, but maybe you were wrong? It was either that, or he had lost them, which seemed unusual for him. Perhaps there was some other reason?

You didn't have much time to think about it though because almost as soon as you had shifted into park, your favorite curly-haired cousin was swinging open the car door and pulling you into a hug.

“Dustin! C’mon, man. I still have my seatbelt on!” You laughed, hugging him back as you tried to wiggle your arms free enough to unbuckle yourself. Yup, he had certainly grown! He was practically twice as tall as he had been during your last visit and about three times as strong.

“This is what you get for taking so long to come back,” he argued playfully before finally stepping away to let you stretch your legs from the long drive.

The sentiment was enough to pull a smile onto your face as you hopped out of the truck. Your legs felt a bit like jelly, but you recovered quickly. You had a lot of unpacking to do afterall, and it had to be mostly done by five o’clock. The mall closed at nine, and you wanted at least a few hours to pass around some resumes. Maybe if you were lucky and some place was really short-staffed, they’d let you start within the next few days. Wouldn’t that be nice? However, right now, you needed to get all of your junk out of the truck and unload your bike.

“You gonna help me unload, or are you just going to keep giving me shit for being gone for the past few years?” You teased right back, giving him a light push on the shoulder before swinging the back hatch of the truckbed open.

You may have overpacked a little bit. Bringing your Suzuki was definitely an interesting choice given the fact that you already had the truck with you, but you just couldn’t justify leaving her behind! Plus, Dustin had mentioned wanting to take her for a spin, and you couldn’t just leave the poor guy hanging, even if it meant being scolded by your aunt for letting her “sweet little Dusty on that death machine.”

It took about an hour to get everything out and into the cabin. Clothes, cassettes, gear- everything a girl could need to survive a couple of months in Hawkins. However, just as you finished unpacking the last box of your various things you simply couldn’t live without, Dustin dramatically threw himself on the couch in faux exhaustion.

“No!” You groaned before trying to pull him up by the collar of his shirt. “Get up, lazy bones. We still need to go to the mall before it closes! Not all of us are protected under child labor laws anymore, remember?” Unfortunately, your very solid argument went completely ignored as he flopped back down onto the couch with a huff.

“I can’t believe you packed so much stuff. I must have brought in a million boxes!” Dustin complained as he pretended to wheeze out a final breath and die right there on your couch.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his ridiculous display before using all of your upper body strength to push the back end of the couch up and flip him onto the floor.

“Ah! What the hell!” The boy squealed before plummeting the foot's distance onto the carpet.

“It was barely ten boxes; stop being such a baby and get up.” Again, your words fell on deaf ears, so you did the only sensible thing and resorted to bribery. “If you help me unstrap my bike, I’ll buy you ice cream when we get to the mall.”

That seemed to do the trick because Dustin was up and at ‘em again in no time. Hell, he practically beat you outside, despite you being closer to the door. With your little cousin’s help, you managed to get your bike off the trailer in less than fifteen minutes and could now start heading towards Hawkins’ new pride and joy. Starcourt Mall.

She was a beauty, really. A true wonder of engineering, and by wonder, you meant that it was a wonder that it still worked. She had been wrecked, fixed, wrecked again, and put back together from the ground up. Aunt Claudia had called it a deathtrap, and to be completely honest, she probably wasn’t far off, but to you, she was ol’ reliable. So, after fixing your spare helmet onto Dustin’s head and pulling on your own, you kicked her into gear and set off down the road and towards the mall.

It had been a while since you had last visited Hawkins, but not much had changed. Well, save for the giant glowing neon beacon of capitalism, of course. Seriously, you thought you were going to have a harder time finding the mall, but between all of the extravagant billboards, bus routes, and the many many signs directing traffic towards the huge vibrant colored building, it was sort of hard to miss.

Well, at least you didn’t have to worry about finding a job anymore. The place was gigantic. There had to be over a hundred little cubical-sized shops under one roof. It would be impossible not to find somewhere to make a little cash while you were here. Hell, you were surprised there were enough people in Hawkins to keep this place up and running, some place had to be understaffed.

Unfortunately, to your and Dustin’s surprise, most of the more cookie-cutter jobs had already been swiped up by high schoolers on summer vacation. Damn! Everything from Macy's sales associate to McDonald's burger flipper had been taken weeks ago. You must have checked half of the shops in that stupid mall and all of those “Help Wanted” signs that your aunt had told you had already been pulled from the windows.

“How is this even possible?” Dustin huffed in disbelief as you two entered the food court, looking less than enthusiastic about your lack of finds. “I was barely gone for a month, and all the jobs are gone! Where the hell did all these people come from?! Do they not have anything better to do during break?”

“Like I said, Dusty, not all of us can ride around Hawkins all summer without needing some cash. These teens were probably cut off from their parent's bank accounts so they would get out and ‘learn the ways of the real world.’ Can’t blame them for trying to make an extra few bucks during the summer.” You tried to soothe, but you also felt the sting of the impending question. What if you couldn’t find a job this summer? You couldn't just phone up your parents begging for a little pocket change. They were states away! Asking your aunt for some money was also out of the question because you didn’t want to overstep your welcome, especially since this was your first visit back in a while.

With a sigh, you pat Dustin's head through his trucker hat and spoke again. “I’m sure I’ll find something, but right now I’m starving, and if I'm not mistaken I owe a certain someone some ice cream. How bout it, kid? Know any good places?” And with that, Dustin lit up again.

“Oh my god! I’m such an idiot! How could I have forgotten?!” Dustin suddenly exclaimed, looking at you with wide eyes before shooting off through the crowd.

“Wh- Dustin! Wait up!” You tried calling after him, but it was too late. That kid was on a mission, and he was dragging you along with him. You bobbed and weaved and even had to duck at one point as you made your way through the crowd of hungry food court patrons. Some grumbled as you frantically darted passed them, but you were determined to keep up with that goofy kid, so you did what you had to do until he came to a screeching halt in front of a sailor-themed parlor.

“Dude, what the hell! The ice cream isn’t going anywhere.” You wheezed, gesturing toward the brightly colored “Scoops Ahoy” sign glowing down at you from above. Still, Dustin seemed way too proud of himself at the moment to care about your complaints.

“It’s not about the ice cream,” He scoffed, rolling his eyes like you just weren't getting something that was glaringly obvious to everyone else. Little shit. “Don’t you see? This is the answer to all of your problems!” Yeah… you still had no idea what he was talking about.

Suddenly an almost obnoxiously loud voice called out from inside the nautical-themed creamery. “Henderson?” You turned to see a man in a ridiculous-looking sailor's uniform looking at both you and your cousin in confusion.

“What?” You both answered, which only served to confuse the poor guy even more as he finished serving the last customer at the counter. He was tall, but his hair was even taller, and he was practically oozing confidence despite the absurd uniform he was sporting. Coincidentally, he also looked to be around your age, so how did he know your little cousin?

“What gives, man? I thought you said you were with the geek squad today.” The sailor questioned as Dustin pulled you into the ice cream parlor and completely ignored the guy's questions like he so often did to you.

“Is Scoops Ahoy hiring?” Dustin prodded bluntly, which caused the older teen to shake his head from the near whiplash he got from the change of subject. You took his momentary stunned silence to slip in a question to your younger cousin.

“Who’s the hair?” You tried to whisper, but apparently, you didn't keep your voice low enough because the sailor began to introduce himself.

“Steve Harrington, and you are?” He started, but Dustin cut him off again.

“She’s my cousin,” he stated before repeating his earlier question. “Is Scoops hiring? C’mon Steve this is important!”

The sailor’s - Steve’s - eyes landed back on Dustin as he pursed his lips for a moment. “Sorry man, between me and Robin we pretty much got the place handled” He finally answered, genuinely sounding a bit mournful as his eyes found yours again. “But, if you're looking for somewhere to work in the mall, I’m pretty sure I still saw some help wanted signs hanging up in a music store across from us when I walked in this morning. I think it's called Tape World? Big blue neon sign, you can’t miss it.”

Before you could thank the guy Dustin was tugging you towards the exit again. Little man really was on a mission.

“Dustin- Chill out!” You laughed, as you tried not to trip over yourself, but your legs still fumbled around uselessly. “Thanks, Steve! It was nice meeting you!” You managed to call out before Dustin had completely pulled you out of the Scoops Ahoy and back into the food court, but he didn’t stop there. No, he continued to drag your ass passed the many eating patrons and over to the entertainment section of the mall. It didn’t take too much longer after that to find that big blue sign Steve had described, and sure enough, there was still a help wanted sign hanging crooked in the window.

For a moment, you two just stopped and stared at it in awe. Could this be it? The answer to your metaphorical prayers? It didn’t look too busy at the moment, which was a bit of a surprise considering that the mall was packed. Maybe it was a shitty music store? Well, there was only one way to find out.

You took a moment to smooth out your shirt from all the running you had just done before casting a look down to Dustin. You were surprised to find him already looking up at you, but you didn’t let it shake you too much. Instead, you stepped towards the invitingly opened doors.

“You coming, or what?” You questioned to break the tension ghosting across your shoulders, and after a breath, Dustin followed suit. The both of you walked in and took a moment to take in the shop.

There were cassettes and records practically covering every wall. Hell- practically every surface. Everything from Bon Jovi to Black Sabbath. There was even a little section in the back with guitars, bases, and amps for sale, and was that Metallica playing quietly through the speakers overhead? A surprising choice, but certainly not an unwelcome one. Well, at least to you it wasn’t, but you knew at least half the families in Hawkins probably thought that that kind of music was for satan worshipers or something. Was that why there was barely anyone in here?

You were just about to head up to the front counter, but as you took your first step towards it, you caught a blur of hair and black leather zooming past out of the corner of your eye. Unfortunately, your paths intersected, and you crashed right into it. A decent stack of tapes went flying, along with your resume as you collided.

“Oh, shit. I just reorganized those,” The man groaned, already starting to bend down to retrieve the poor cassettes. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I am so sorry.” You apologized, face heating up as you kneeled down and started to frantically gather up the tapes. “Here, let me help.”

Duran Duran.

The Cure.

Tears for Fears.

And…

“Hey, this is the album that's playing, right? Ride the Lightning?” You asked as you handed the guy back a blue-colored cassette case labeled Metallica.

For a moment, he just stared at you. Not in that ‘Oh yeah? name three of their songs!’ type of way, but more like he was genuinely, and maybe even pleasantly, surprised. Nevertheless, being put under such an intense gaze was beginning to make you feel a bit nervous. So, you did what any sane person would do and laughed like an idiot.

“What? Is this not For Whom the Bell Tolls or something? You’re looking at me like I got three heads.” You tried to break the tension with some humor which actually seemed to work because he finally took the tape and cleared his throat.

“No, yeah. Sorry, yeah. That’s what's playing. I just,” He shook his head and looked down to pick up the last of the cassettes before continuing, “you don’t look like you would be into this kind of stuff. You just surprised me.”

You scoffed, not in a harsh way, but almost teasingly.

“What? The black riding boots aren’t enough to give me away?” You joked, and to your delight, the long-haired guy actually joined you for a huffed laugh.

It was at that point he reached for the small stack of papers that had flown out of your hands during the collision.

“Resumes?” He prompted, setting the newly reorganized cassettes safely back onto the glass counter before offering a ring-covered hand to help you up. You took it.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm in town for the summer and I basically blew all my money just to get here so… resumes.” You looked down awkwardly at your shoes as you explained. Slowly, he handed you back all but one of the stack. His eyes scanned quickly over the document. So quickly, in fact, that there was no possible way he could have caught more than just your name and number.

Then finally, after what seemed like an eternity,

“You’re hired. Can you start tomorrow?” He asked, folding up your resume and shoving it into the back pocket of his ripped jeans.

What?

“What? Just like that? No interview?” You weren’t one for chancing your luck but this just seem way too easy after all you had just gone through. There had to be some sort of catch, right?

“Nope! I happen to be a fantastic judge of character, and I am judging your character to be perfect for this job.” He answered so confidently, that you almost believed him. “And I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m the only one working in here, and I am so sick of being around so many people with absolutely no taste.” He finally fessed up after a short pause, pulling a soft laugh from your chest.

“So what do you say? Can you start tomorrow?” The poor guy was practically begging at this point, and you really needed the money so…

“What time?” You answered with a grin, looking back up just in time to catch him fist pump the air and jump up onto the counter, swinging his legs across so that he was on the other side.

He ducked below, and for a second you lost sight of him completely. Then, almost like a groundhog, he popped back into view with a vibrant blue vest with Tape World embroidered on the breast and a stack of new employee forms.

“We open at ten tomorrow, but if you come in at nine-thirty, I’ll show you how to work the register.” He announced, sliding the items across the counter before leaning forward, resting his forearms against the glass display. “Oh,” His eyes closed as if something important had just caught up with him, “I also got a deal with the guys down at Hawkins’ Heroes so we can get some free breakfast too if you want.”

“That sounds great! I guess I’ll catch you tomorrow then…uh…” Your eyes darted across his uniform, searching for a name tag, but no joy. Fortunately, he must have caught your struggle because he stood back up straight and extended his arms out for an exaggerated bow.

“Edward Munson, at your service.” He introduced himself in a booming voice, that actually seemed to spook a couple of patrons towards the back of the store. “But! You can just call me Eddie.” He continued in a much more reasonable tone, dropping his hands back down to his sides with an almost goofy lopsided grin.

Who even was this guy? You asked yourself fondly, smiling back at him.

“Well then, Eddie, it's been a pleasure, but I’ve gotta feed this guy and get him home before his mom sends out a search party.” You threw a thumb back at Dustin who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the whole exchange. “Nine thirty, right?”

“Nine thirty,” Eddie confirmed, picking up the tapes he had dropped a few minutes ago to restock the shelves.

And with that, you gave one last wave before walking out of that little music store you were sure would leave a big impact on your summer vacation. Hopefully, it would be a good one.

As you and Dustin once again made your way back toward the food court, you couldn’t help but notice that he was giving you a look. At first, you tried to ignore it, but as you two got closer and closer, his smug look seemed to bore itself into the side of your head until you finally conceded.

“What?”

“Huh? Oh, Nothing.” Dustin answered nonchalantly, finally looking away. He was trying to seem aloof, but you knew he was just being a little shit.

“C’mon, kid. Spit it out.” You tried, but he seemed content keeping up his little act for a little while longer. Eventually, after another long moment of silence, he couldn't contain himself and broke.

“I was just thinking about Suzie. That’s all.” He answered smugly and given his tone, that definitely wasn't all.

“Suzie?” You prompted, raising an eyebrow at your little cousin.

“Suzie.” The kid repeated but continued to elaborate when you shot him a questing look. “My totally beautiful and genius girlfriend from Camp Know Where.”

“Okay. Sure. What about her?” You were really failing to see how his definitely real and totally not made-up girlfriend was relevant to the situation.

“Well, I was thinking about the way she looked at me after I finished building Cerebro.” After another long pause, Dustin was starting to get impatient with you. “She looked at me like that guy from the music store looked at you just now!” He groaned at you as if what he was saying was painfully obvious.

“Dustin, what are you talking about?” You scoffed, but his stupid smirk didn’t budge. “He was probably just thrown off because some random girl ran into him and made him drop a bunch of shit. Stop- Quit smiling at me like that!” You could feel your face start to heat up again, but you couldn't tell if it was because you were embarrassed or annoyed.

“Uh-huh. Sure. That was definitely the only reason.” It was at that point that you gave him a light shove on the shoulder. Not enough to hurt or push him down, but apparently enough to send him spiraling into a fit of laughter.

“You are such a cocky little shit, you know that?” You snorted as pulled him back upright and under your arm. “Now shut up and pick something to eat so we can go home.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson st4 #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #x reader #stranger things fanfiction #fix it fic #Those Good Days Passed #my writing #reupload #multichapter #steve harrington #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #ace writes

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call-me-aesthetic · 3 years

Text

If Twisted Wonderland was an American Public School

WARNING: There are some slight sensitive topics that are featured in here! Reader discretion is advised!

Part 2 can be found here

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts:

- That one preppy girl who takes all honors and AP classes 😑

- Wants everyone to know that he’s becoming a doctor one day for his strict parents or he’ll dishonor the family

- Reminds the teacher about homework, knowing well that he’ll get slander for it

- Complains about how he got a 90 on his test or a B on his report card, a try hard much?

- Wears a cardigan with thicc but cute glasses since he’s one of those people with can’t see shit on the board so he has to move to the front of the class

Ace Trappola:

- The SoundCloud rapper, that’s it

- “Wanna listen to my mixtape? It’s pretty fire, my guy.” 😩🔥

- You will not miss him BLASTING out some song on his Bluetooth speaker, that shit be echoing through the hallways

- Tells you to stop what you’re doing only for him to either sing horribly or do a backflip, thinking that he’s so cool

- Wears a Supreme jacket with AirPods and waves on his head

Deuce Spade:

- Assuming that he’s still a delinquent, he’s that kid with the most fucked up school record

- Not much of a bully but will still talk shit to your face without caring, might even throw stuff at you during a lesson and you would be the one getting in trouble instead of him 🗿

- If he ever gets mad, it would be overdramatic like kicking the desks, punching the lockers, or walking out of the classroom unannounced and everyone would look at each other wondering wtf happened

- Covers the entire desks with drawings of skulls and those “s” if you know what I mean

- Wears Champion hoodies, wants you to know that he’s broke and rich at the same time

Trey Clover:

- The guy that’s not really popular but everyone knows him since he’s in all their classes

- Most people might have a crush on him because he’s REALLY nice 😳👉👈

- Gives off “older brother” vibes based on the way he looks and acts, like offering you a ride home if you beg ask nicely

- Secretly bakes creme brulee but doesn’t want to mess with the flow so he sticks to the status quo

- Wears the school’s hoodie just because he thinks it looks good on him, and the fact that he doesn’t know what else to wear

Cater Diamond:

- Hot Cheetos girl 🥵

- Has a whole buffet of food in his backpack and will not hesitate to eat them during a lesson, no sharing either sorry

- Excuses himself to the bathroom or full on skips class just to film a Tiktok

- Has about 100 followers on Instagram Magicam and brags about how he’s famous

- Wears a Thrasher hoodie with large hoop earrings and his hair in a bun

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar:

- The kid who flunked their freshman year that also sort of vibes with new classmates

- Always gets mistaken as a teacher by people since he looks and sounds old

- Knows the lessons but still fails them anyways, didn’t really give a damn either 🙄

- Captain of every sports club you can think of, never actually plays but has a lot of knowledge on them

- Wears the school’s letterman from years ago since it used to be his brother’s and that he’s too lazy to buy a new one

Ruggie Bucchi:

- That one kid who NEVER has money for the book fair or any other school event

- Always has to ask his classmates for some cash

- If he somehow does, then he’s one of those kids who buys Diary of the Wimpy Kid or the World Record books

- If he’s feeling cheap, he’ll buy the “cool stuff” like the chocolate scented calculator or fruit snacks 😭

- Wears oversized hoodies and basketball shorts that are clearly hand-me-downs

Jack Howl:

- That one athletic kid who’s both scary good and competitive when it comes to school games like football or soccer

- Literally the best player on his team and without him, they’re trash as hell 💀

- Tries his absolute best to support his teammates without yelling at them for how dumb they are

- “KICK THE FUCKING BALL! DO YOUR LEGS EVEN WORK?!”

- Wears the school’s jersey just to show off his “school spirit”

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto:

- The kid who sell snacks for “charity” but everyone knows he’s keeping the money to himself

- If you don’t have cash or try to negotiate with him, the only thing he’ll do is raise the price up

- “What do you mean you don’t have ten bucks? I can see it in your pocket.”

- Just bring nothing with you, he’ll doing anything to steal your stuff 🤭

- Wears a collar shirt with a tie and khakis that have pockets to keep his glasses and money in

Jade Leech:

- The kid who puts on a goody two shoes facade but is actually a stoner

- Only does “safe” drugs like vape but occasionally smokes weed, mostly in the bathroom or behind the school 🌬

- Can play it off and hide the scent when he’s high, teachers never suspect anything from him

- No one really cares to stop him unless he gets caught or something idk

- Wears clothing that either makes him look like a businessman or a junky, there’s nothing in between

Floyd Leech:

- The kid that’s plays basketball or volleyball just because he’s hella tall, and is actually good at the sports but doesn’t put much effort into them

- Always stays behind after gym, even though the teacher tries to make him leave for his next class 😬

- “I swear after this one shot, I’ll go to class.” *He never made that shot*

- Will jump you no matter who or where you are, and will get angry if you step on his new shoes

- Wears the jersey of any famous team with the latest pair of Jordan sneakers

Scarabia

Kalim Al Asim:

- VSCO girl at best, don’t lie to me now 🤡

- The only words he knows are “And I oop– sksksk.” and “Save the turtles.”

- Walks during a track meet while everyone else is running and sweating hard, the teacher doesn’t care either

- Doesn’t really do anything in gym but talks to his classmates and stands near the water fountain to refill his Hydro flask

- Wears tie dye shirts with cute scrunchies

Jamil Viper:

- That one quiet kid who everybody thinks is a serial killer but he’s actually not, I swear

- He just wants school to be over and spend the rest of his summer relaxing 😔

- Although he shouldn’t abuse his “power,” he‘ll move his hands in his pockets or backpack to make it look like he’s about to pull a weapon out.

- “Chill, I’m just grabbing a pencil.” *Everyone in the class started crying*

- Wears dark colored hoodies that intimidates people but are actually comfy

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit:

- The baddie popular girl 😌💅✨

- Arrives to school late with a Starbucks in hand from his local Target

- Fixes himself every 5 seconds like reapplying his lipgloss or spraying Bath and Body Works cherry blossom perfume

- Uses acrylic nails and long hair extensions as weapons during a cat fight

- Wears a crop top with ripped jeans and those clout sunglasses

Rook Hunt:

- That creepy guy in the hallways who tries to get your attention, even if you don’t know him

- Scares people when he says, “Ayo, where my hug at?” 🥶💯

- Uses at least 10 cans of Axe body spray a week after gym class, which stinks up the locker rooms

- Waves at you if he passes your class, even walking into the room just to say hi

- Wears literally anything but always include a hat

Epel Felmier:

- The artist girl who just wants to be alone 🧑‍🎨

- Purposely draws in front of you but pretends like you’re not looking

- If you complement him, he’ll just brush it off and proceeds to diss himself

- “Thanks but I’m not THAT good at drawing, teehee.” *Insert Radio Rebel face*

- Wears a hoodie or a cardigan with big pockets to put his art supplies in

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud:

- I don’t even need to tell you who he is, y’all already know ahaha 🥴

- Sneaks a whole PlayStation in his backpack so he can play with it during lunch

- Is on his phone 24/7 even in class to the point where teachers don’t care anymore

- Tries to get people into anime but only to little success

- Wears a shirt of any anime character or that damn ahegao hoodie, girl bye

Ortho Shroud:

- The nerdy kid who’s known for destroying others at many games

- Plays classics like D&D, Yugioh, Pokémon, the whole shabang

- Daily Beyblade battles during recess with everyone surrounding him, the menacing aura radiates off of him

- Will steal your things if you lose to him but gives it back a week later cuz he’s sweet 🥰

- Wears light up Sketchers shoes and those Minecraft shirts you find at Old Navy

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia:

- The theatre kid who also goes to band practice, change my mind 👁👄👁

- Takes his role seriously when it comes to school plays and concerts, even if he gets casted as a damn tree or doesn’t go solo

- Remembers the songs and their lyrics to any musical you name, a really good singer at that too

- Plays almost every instrument, you definitely know this since you can hear him down the hallways during a test

- Wears a white button up shirt, black pants with fancy dress shoes, and top it all off with a fricking Rolex watch

Lilia Vanrouge:

- The weird guy who pranks people and vandalizes school property in every way possible

- If you ever get a textbook with a message that tells you to go to a certain page only for you to found a picture of a dick, yeah that was him 😒

- When using a Chromebook, he’ll leave a tab open on YouTube so when the next person uses it, pray that your ears will still work by tomorrow

- During lunch, he is a literal DEMON that mixes milk with chicken nuggets together and having the audacity to eat it too

- Wears an oversized raincoat or a windbreaker but idk wtf kind of things he has hiding underneath

Silver:

- That guy in class who consumes Monster energy drinks and falls asleep 99% of the time but somehow manages to pass the class 🤷

- Whenever he’s awake, he’ll talk to the teachers since he’s basically friends with them for some reason

- Writes his name out of boredom on any desk you sit on but in different places, sometimes around the corners or the sides

- Has a sixth sense because he’ll wake up if you try to draw on his face and if you did get something on him, it’s on sight

- Wears those colorful hoodies that zips all the way up to cover his face with a matching backpack, it’s pretty cool ngl

Sebek Zigvolt:

- That kid who literally knows everything about historical wars and will show it off during class

- Also has knowledge on weaponry, which has people questioning him but he’s just very dedicated on serving his country and people

- Knows how to fight and defend himself from a bitch since he spent his summer at a military boot camp, put respect on my man’s name 😤

- Honestly a great partner for a group project, actually does the given work but not the whole thing for you

- Wears anything that has camo pattern and chunky combat boots

I only made this because me and my friends were talking about our school memories so yeah. This is based from my experience so they might not be exactly accurate. Might even be a part two if you want.

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heavenbarnes · 4 years

Text

come on, baby, let me get to you

Nancy Wheeler x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: swearing, mentions of a cutting your finger, fingering, tit sucking, implied top! reader, implied bottom! nancy, pretty soft by my standards

Word Count: 2.8k

i think about er a lot, so it was only right that i gave you something to work with! x

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Nancy wasn’t even sure how she was dragged, maybe coerced, into this. Her eyes had lit up at the news of her younger brother going away to summer camp for nearly a whole month. That light had died the moment her mother told her she’d be going too.

She argued she was too old for a stupid summer camp, until her mom explained that she’d be a camp counselor. Rambling on about how it’d look good on her resume, and how her skin could use some sun, that was what got her here.

How she found herself stood up to her ankles in mud, the same slimy dirt splattered up her shirt and across her cheek.

The culprit who threw the mud ball directly at Nancy was turning pink in the cheeks, pulling his feet out of the dirt so he could hurry away from his counselor before she totally flipped out.

“Keep running before I make you scrub the whole kitchen for that!” A voice came from behind Nancy, and if she could've sunk down into the sludge, she would’ve.

If anyone could’ve found her stuck in the mud, covered in it and nearly fuming, Nancy really didn’t want it to be you. She couldn’t fight the tinge of embarrassment she felt twang in the pit of her stomach when her fellow counselor stepped around the side of her.

“It’s just because you’re new, we’ll whip ‘em into shape sooner or later.” You dropped an eye into a wink as you lifted one of her arms.

Wrapping it around your shoulders you crouched down to give yourself enough leverage to pull the other girl out of the predicament she found herself in. As her feet became unstuck, she sighed quite loudly.

“I wish the kids liked me as much as they do you, they all think I’m boring or something.”

Nancy wrapped her other arm around your front, almost enveloping you into a hug as you continued to pry her from the mud. Silently, you hoped to whatever was listening that she couldn’t feel your heart speed up at her touch.

“You just have to give them time, soon they’ll love you as much as I do.”

You wished you could pluck those words out of the air and swallow them as quick as you’d said them. Nancy’s doe eyes darted in your direction, if you knew any better you’d think she was wiling you to elaborate.

“I- I love your fun nature and- and your tenacity.” Stuttering only slightly, you filled the silence your comment had left.

Nancy huffed a breath out her nose. “You think I have tenacity?”

“You’re up to your shins in mud, had the stuff thrown at you, and you haven’t demanded to go home.” Finally you freed both her feet. “You’ve got tenacity and then some.”

Still using you for support, Nancy had the hint of a smile drift across her face as she tried to take her first step. The change in feeling was too much for her, sending her flailing out towards the ground.

She would’ve hit the mud with an almighty splat, had she not grabbed you tight around the neck. Your arms flew behind her back and anyone watching on might’ve thought you both were practicing the dip in your waltz.

Blinking up at you with those big eyes, you knew there was no doubt she could feel your pulse against her arm, beating like crazy. You told yourself that if she asked, you’d play it off as adrenaline from catching her. A bold faced lie when just watching her walk across the room had you feel the same way.

You cracked a grin at her, shaking your head gently as you looked down to her. “If you could stay vertical, that’d make this a whole lot easier.”

She giggled quietly, a nearly angelic sound to your ears as you both managed to make your way back to main camp. Walking beside her through the trees, you wished you could have the smallest glimpse into what she was thinking.

Nancy stayed dead quiet, overall just rather embarrassed that you’d had to rescue her like this. Especially as this was the second time you’d had to save her (if you consider Nancy forgetting her towel and having to ask you to get her one and bring it to the shower to be a disaster).

To her, you had this effortless way of captivating everyone. The kids and the counselors loved you, and she couldn’t blame them. She just couldn’t put her finger on the reason why she felt the way she did whenever you showed up.

There was a feeling stirring deep in her and she most certainly hadn’t felt it before, but the moment you laid even the softest touch on her, Nancy swore she could feel it long after you’d let go.

Arriving back at camp, that desperation to sink into the earth and out of view came back to Nancy in an overwhelming sense. Her younger brother, Mike, was stood with his friends and had a shit-eating grin take over his face as he saw the state she was in.

You picked up on Nancy’s energy before she even said a word, her whole body tensed up in an instant. You’d had a sweet little crush on the girl since the moment you laid eyes on her, you knew when things weren’t right.

“Now, when I say you look like the creature from the black lagoon I don’t-“

“Michael, say another word and you’re on firewood duty till the end of camp.”

Both the Wheeler’s turned to look at you with mouth’s agape, the eldest looked considerably more pleased with you.

“What? But she’s my sister I’m allowed to say crap like that!”

“She may be your sister, but here she’s my bunkmate and what I say goes.”

Mike’s shoulders deflated as he kicked his toes into the dirt, you continued on past him with his sister in toe. As you left him behind, you tossed the final say over your shoulder.

“By the way, that was another word so you’re definitely on firewood duty.”

“God damn it.”

Walking Nancy over to the shower blocks, you claimed it was so she didn’t fall into another ditch, but both of you kind of knew it was to have more time together.

Neither of you said a thing about it.

“What did you mean by “bunkmate” was that just to get my brother of my back?” She asked quietly, toeing at the loose dirt like the other Wheeler had.

You shot her a second of confusion before speaking. “Did they not tell you Fatima Torrence got food-poisoning? They’re putting you in my bunk until they clean your one.”

Now, Nancy never wished ill of anybody. But if she said she wasn’t even the smallest bit happy her old bunkmate had eaten that grey chicken the night before, she’d be a liar.

Nancy Wheeler didn’t often find comfort in lies, but she did in kind girls who rescued her from mud and 13 year olds.

Reaching the door to the shower room, you felt yourself sink a bit. She was only going to be gone 20 minutes tops, but if you could spend every moment with her, that’d be quite alright.

“Thank you for before, and thank you for not making fun of me.”

Smiling kindly at her, you couldn’t ignore that tinge of embarrassment that clouded her. For someone that, to you, made the sun rise in the morning - she didn’t have an awful lot of confidence just yet.

“Any time, I’d never make fun of you, I like you too much.” That stirred a smile on her cheeks. “Don’t forget your towel, I can’t be running back here or they’ll think somethings going on.”

Sending her another wink, the blush the crept up her neck was undeniable but her smile wasn’t able to be kept down. You wouldn’t make fun of her, but tease her endlessly? How could you not.

Chopping potatoes for dinner that night, you physically had to stop your mind from wandering to that steam filled shower block where Nancy was probably humming to herself.

Her hands were probably running across her whole body, that lavender soap was filling her senses and if you tried hard enough it’d do the same to yours.

She’d be dripping hot water and her hair slicked back and you could nearly feel it, nearly reach out and touch-

“Can you hear me?”

Jumping at the sound of that sweet voice, the one you’d just imagined moaning your name, the knife slipped from your grasp and across your finger.

“Fuck!” Bringing the pad of your pointer finger to your mouth, you sucked at the superficial cut.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry!” Nancy reached out to grab your other arm and pulled you towards the first aid kid. “I am so stupid!”

“No, you’re not.” You mumbled around your digit. “I was just lost in my head.”

Opening the case she rifled around for a band aid as she carried on about how she shouldn’t have given you a fright. You haphazardly retorted how you should’ve been paying more attention.

Finding the sticking plaster adorned with a panda bear, Nancy reached out for your “wounded” limb.

“Stop sucking your fingers and give them to me.”

Your head shot up to her, eyes widening to nearly the size of her own. Whilst yours opened wide, hers narrowed at you. “And get your mind out of the gutter whilst you’re at it.”

“Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am.” You saluted with your free hand.

Once the finger was bandaged and you could get back to the potatoes, Nancy stood by your side as she took on the carrots. Working together in harmony, you swore you could’ve stayed like that forever, listening to her hum quietly as you worked away.

You willed for her to come into your kitchen and be the main course, the starter, and the dessert.

After the campfire where Nancy had curled into your side, allowing you to drape your blanket around the both of you, you found yourselves walking back to your bunk room.

It was more plausible that nothing would happen, you’d both tuck into bed and that’d be it. But there was something in the way she held onto you in the cold air of the night, the way she looked at you as you said her name.

If there was something up there and listening, please throw plausibility to the wind.

Picking up your shorts and t-shirt, you head to the bathrooms to get changed. As you brushed your teeth, you wondered how you’d even get any sleep knowing how close the girl that’d captivated your mind for so long, was within reaching distancing.

The cool air brushed along your exposed legs as you went back to your cabin, opening the door to complete darkness. Figures, Nancy just wanted to go to sleep, that was more than plausible and you nearly cursed yourself for thinking something could’ve happened.

With your back to her, you put your backpack under your bed as you pulled the covers back. Your shoulders jumped slightly as one of the cabin lamps were flicked on.

The softest voice called your name.

Turning around, all the breath in your lungs were drawn from you, coming out in a breathy moan. “Holy shit.”

Nancy Wheeler, sweet and righteous, doe eyes and cheek bones meant to be held. Nancy Wheeler laid before you in the dim light of a lantern, only in her frilly pink bra and knickers.

Nancy Wheeler was beckoning you over.

Letting your feet move before your mind could catch up, you were kneeling on the end of her bed and making your way closer before you even thought about what was happening.

All that mattered was this girl was reaching out and grasping your arms, pulling you up her body until you were caging her in on that threadbare mattress.

“Is this what you want, baby?” Running your finger tips along her thigh to her hip, you felt her shiver. “I want to hear you say it.”

Her voice was a featherlight whisper just inches from your ear, it was your turn to feel a shiver wrack your whole body as she spoke.

“It is, I want you.”

So your fingers were hooking over the edge of her panties as you drew them back, feeling like unwrapping a present on Christmas morning. Every inch of skin that was revealed to you seemed to get even more beautiful.

Squirming beneath you, those wide eyes watched every movement you made as you took your time with her. You purposefully drew your nails along her as you undressed her, making her buck up into you.

Her own hands came to the cups of her bra, fingers gently tracing the puckered lace that rested there. You stilled for a moment, eyes casting up to see what she might do next. She was almost waiting for permission.

“Go ahead, let me see.”

With that, she drew down the fabric to expose her chest to you. Your breath caught in your throat as she tweaked at her nipples, pulling them with her slender fingers.

Your head swirled with the severity of the situation, the very real situation where you had the wonders of the universe at your finger tips. Turning back to the panties you had in your hand, you tossed them onto your bunk, hoping they’d get lost amongst your belongings.

Gently gripping her thighs, you pulled them apart and opened her up to you. Tugging her down the bed a bit, you slotted nicely between her long legs, like that was where you meant to belong.

Bringing a hand to her center, you ran two fingers along her and felt the sweet wetness that lay there. You felt your insides seize, desperately aching to feel even more of her. Nancy gasped, telling you that this wasn’t a feeling she was used to.

“You ever had a girl this close to you, touch you like this?”

Nancy shook her head as she tipped it back, feeling the way you dipped your fingers in and pressed them tight against her clit. She rolled her hips into your hand, trying to angle you down and closer to where she wanted you.

Giving into her easily, you gently dipped your fingers into where she was wettest. You couldn’t help but moan quietly as you slipped into her, watching the way her back arched off the bed.

Dipping down, you pressed your face into the curve of her neck to breathe her in. Slowly working your fingers against her, you curled them upwards to draw the most beautiful moans out of her.

Nancy wrapped her arms around your shoulders, pulling you in even closer. Feeling her breath against your skin was enough to send you feeling, peppering your lips along the soft skin of her neck.

“That- that feels so good, faster.” Her stuttered breath had her chest rising and falling quickly beneath you.

Doing as told, you sped up the movements of your wrist as Nancy called your name. You felt her head turn beside you, lips moments from your cheek as she moaned for you. Turning your head towards her, you found your own lips so close to hers.

She closed the distance, pressing her mouth so gently to yours before you felt her tongue slip past. If there was a moment in life you could keep forever, this would be a pretty good contender.

Nipping her lower lip, you rolled your fingers up into her sweet spot. The noises you pulled from deep within her chest were mesmerizing, your name had never sounded this good in your life.

Nancy’s thighs tensed around you, body going rigid as you continued to move against her. Angling your thumb up, you rolled the pad of it against her clit. Her whole body tensed tighter, hands sliding down you to grip the material of your shirt.

You left her mouth, coming down to take one of her nipples between your lips. The varying pleasure had Nancy’s voice breaking, a strangled cry of your name rolling off her tongue. Working her through it, you felt her whole body melt around you.

“That’s a good girl, let me hear you.”

Her fingernails gripped into your shoulders, dragging up as she continued to roll into your movements. You felt her wetness around your fingers, her moans still tumbling past her lips as she came for you.

Letting her catch her breath, you brought your fingers to your mouth, laying them against your tongue as Nancy watched with curious eyes. You smiled around them as she started to reach out for you again.

“Stop sucking your fingers and give them to me.”

#nancy wheeler smut #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler x female reader #stranger things smut #nancy wheeler headcanon

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the-witty-pen-name · 4 years

Text

Deadbeat Pt. 2

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Read Part One

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), smut, cursing, abandonment, infatuation, cheating/divorce, angst, mild housewife kink, this chapter talks about Reverend Teagardin/his actions towards the young girls in the story (nothing is described in detail- just accusations discussing how he gives off bad vibes and is creepy- if you’ve seen the film you already know)

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

I hope you all enjoy!

Tags and Requests are OPEN

It was always so hot in that little one room chapel. There was no fan and everyone would be crushed in together like sardines. The air was always sticky and it turned everyone sluggish. Your mama never brought you and Tommy to church, but you saw how that singled you out in this community. The judgmental looks people would give you for not going always made you feel like they viewed your family as trailer trash. So when they left, you started going regular like everyone else. You wanted to make a good impression and give yourself an opportunity to be more involved in the community. You used to attend with Arvin’s family, but now you sit on the opposite side of the aisle.

You and Arvin were still on friendly terms. On your nights off, sometimes you’d be invited to join them for supper. Ever since you and Arvin broke up, you’ve politely denied his grandmother’s thoughtful invitations. Now that you were living alone with the Sheriff, you wouldn’t anticipate any more neighborly invitations but instead prayers to save your soul, like you weren’t already damned for ‘peddling the Devil’s drink’ as you’ve heard alcohol referred to so many times by Ms. Russell.

You didn’t care much for the new reverend, and you found yourself often zoning out during his sermons. You were more preoccupied with the uncomfortableness of the pews and how your thighs felt like you’d be ripping giant band-aids off the back of them when you stand up after the service ended- even if it was a cooler day. Reverend Teagardin made a terrible first impression in your opinion, and he never did nothing to make you think you were misjudging him. You trusted the Sheriff’s advice to steer clear of him. Though based on the liking he’d taken to talking to the high school aged girls after service ended, you were thinking you were too old for him anyways. You shook your head, chastising yourself for joking about something like that even just to yourself. You made sure to tell Lee whenever he did something to tip you off that he might be trouble. You didn’t trust him one bit.

After the service, you were almost ambushed by a couple of women who were notoriously known for being the town’s busy bodies. The shorter of the two was Ethel Perry, who absolutely wreaked of cigarette smoke and always carried a little beaded purse. The other was Ida Sinclair, whose hair was a silver blue, and always wore a turtleneck and a thick sweater overtop even in the middle of hot summer days. They were sweet ladies, and normally you’d love to gab and let them fill you in on all the town gossip. They were great to talk to. But now that you were on the other side of their gossip, their nice demeanor felt much more predatory now that they were seeking you out for information instead of sharing it.

“Sweetheart,” Ida said sweetly, cornering you outside by the steps. “You poor thing how are you holding up?” You were buttoning up your jacket, when the pair snuck up on you, catching you off guard.

“Oh Mrs. Sinclair, I’m doing just fine. No need to worry about me,” you say, giving them a small smile.

“Is it true you’re renting a room to Sheriff Bodecker?” Ms. Perry interjects, not even bothering with the small talk. You almost respected her more direct approach, the small talk Ms. Sinclair was attempting to make made you feel a tinge resentful of their attitude towards you.

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply, not giving her anymore details. If she wanted the gossip, she’d need to own up to being direct in her behavior.

“We heard Janie kicked him out of the house,” Mrs. Sinclair said, her face plastered with worry like she felt sorry for the man. You smiled through your teeth and nodded.

“Makes sense,” Ms. Perry added, “Him needing a room and with your mama leaving you here alone and all.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say smiling through your teeth, you hadn’t realized you were grinding down on them that hard.

“Ms. Beaumont was going on and on yesterday about how it wasn’t fitting,” Ms. Perry continued. “You being a young single girl- working at that terrible bar, renting out a room to a man. She was insinuating something awful- but don’t worry dear. We know she’s just being meddlesome and trying to stir the pot where she shouldn’t.”

“Thank you, Ms. Perry,” you responded, sarcastically but they didn’t pick up on it. “It was lovely seeing you both,” you say, stepping away, “but I should be heading home now.”

“Too bad the Sheriff doesn’t come to Church,” Mrs. Sinclair, said, “He could be driving you, so you don’t have to be walking.”

The Sheriff worked on Sunday mornings and both of them knew that. You knew it was just an attempt to insinuate something else you didn’t have the patience to try to decode. You just nodded as a goodbye and started walking home. It never took long to walk, and you wouldn’t bother the Sheriff for a ride unless you really needed one- like if it was bad weather or if you were leaving work too late at night. You didn’t mind walking at all- gave you a chance to just clear your head and enjoy the fresh air, especially after getting out of that stuffy chapel.

You knew the Sheriff actually wasn’t working today. He told you this morning he was going to the courthouse to sign his divorce papers and then to pick up his stuff at the house. You’d see him later on that night when he finished that whole mess. It was the quickest divorce you’d ever seen. Neither one of them seemed to care to get lawyers. Based on what Lee told you so far, he really just was fine with her taking anything she asked for- including the house. His indifference to the whole thing really was like no divorce you’d ever heard about. You sympathized, because it was just him not wanting to prolong the painful ordeal of it all. He just wanted to get it all over and done with, and you understood that.

When you got home, you changed out of your Sunday dress and into some work clothes. A pair of overalls, a short sleeved tshirt and a pair of your old saddle shoes. You protected your hair with a bandana and decided to get to work. You got some free cardboard boxes from the grocer yesterday, and you resolved to help Lee out and clear out all of your mom’s old stuff. You told him when he left to leave the door unlocked for you and it would be cleared out as best you could get it so he’d had somewhere to put his stuff when he got back.

You started with the closet and getting rid of all her clothes. You’d call the donation center tomorrow and they’d send someone to come pick it all up. You weren’t sentimental about anything that belonged to her. Much like the Sheriff and his divorce, you just wanted to get this stuff out of the house and get the chore over with. You kept the photographs, and some of the things you knew might be worth something, like any of the jewelry she’d left in her jewelry box. You took anything that was hers and either tossed it or put it in the large donation pile.

You knew the weather tonight would be fine, so you opted to carry all the boxes outside and stack them on the porch. You figured it would be better and easier to deal with if you piled the full boxes outside before they came tomorrow. You didn’t touch Tommy’s room. You figured there was no need, and he was the only one out of the two you had a small amount of hope would someday come back, even if it was just to visit.

You closed the first box, and carried it down the hall and down the stairs slowly because it blocked your vision. At the bottom of the stairs, you propped the box on your hip so you could open the door. You then walked sideways out of the front door to drop it on the porch. As you were walking out you saw the familiar cruiser, driving down the road. You smiled, actually liking the feeling of having someone living with you. It was a little exciting. It was clouded by terrible circumstances on both your parts, but you hadn’t realized how lonely you had been living alone- even if it had only been a couple of days of Lee being here.

When Lee saw you walk out on the porch, he almost hit the garage door. You looked absolutely gorgeous, sweaty from working around the house and moving boxes. His heart felt strained in his chest when you smiled at him. That right there made his whole shitty day worth it. He hated facing Janie, scribbling his signature fast as ever on every document thrown at him. He hated that she was there with Miller, him standing behind her with his hand on her shoulder comforting her, like she wasn’t the adulterer in the room. It was infuriating.

He felt like a stranger in his own goddamn house, rummaging through everything grabbing what was his. Janie watched him like a hawk, following him around and saying nothing, like he wasn’t to be trusted to not take something. What like he’d steal something that was his? He hardly spoke two words to her. Miller sitting in his recliner, watching the news on the television. She made no attempt to even shield him from the look of another man living there. She wasted no time, announcing she’d be marrying the bastard as Lee was leaving. He mumbled a ‘congratulations’ and loaded the few boxes he had into the trunk of the cruiser.

Now seeing you there standing on the porch, all the bullshit he had to put up with today seemed worth it. It was grounding. He sighed, tossing his hat on the seat, and zipping up his leather jacket- ignoring the way it was fitting a little snugger. As he fumbled with the zipper, his mind started to wander- thoughts always clouded with you. He was usually able to keep his feeling pushed away when he was out, but the second he would see you again, all progress was lost. And here you are, like you were waiting for him to come back to you.

“I still have a few more boxes,” you say as he closes the door to the cruiser.

“I can move them,” he tries to protest, but you’ve already disappeared back into the house. He gets his own boxes out of the trunk and brings them into the house, leaving them on the living room floor for now. He hangs up his coat on the coatrack, on the hook next to yours, and then heads up the narrow staircase to see if he can help you. He gets to his room and he stops in the doorway, dead in his tracks. You’re on the floor, on your knees in front of a box, using a roll of packing tape to secure it shut. His heart stops and he’s frozen. He stutters to make himself known, but you don’t seem to notice the way he reacted to you. He’s relieved that you don’t seem to miss a beat, pushing the box in his direction, your way of telling him he can bring it outside. You stretch over and pull another box in front of you and begin placing folded clothes that were on the floor inside just to fill it to the brim completely before closing it.

That silent assembly line of the two of you makes the work go by quick. You have six large boxes ready to get picked up tomorrow sitting on the front porch, and Lee is able to bring his stuff upstairs. You decide to let him have some time to just settle, and you get started on what to do for dinner when you see it getting pretty late in the afternoon.

There was never any spoken agreement that you’d both eat together. It just kind of happens on its on the past two nights he’s been here. You’d be making dinner for yourself anyways, and making something for two isn’t that much more work. You know he doesn’t expect you to cook for him at all, but since you were taking up the kitchen anyways you don’t mind. You weren’t the best cook, but you’re pretty sure your cooking beats a cold sandwich from the diner.

Upstairs, Lee was letting his emotions get the best of him. His ever-present feelings for you- he actually wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was just an attraction, or maybe he was so used to coldness from Janie that he’s falling apart at a woman being nice to him and treating like a person. He needed to pull himself together. He closed his eyes for a second, picturing how you looked packing the boxes up. On your knees, the overalls hugging your figure, the little bit of sweat on your brow- it was the best sight he ever got the pleasure of seeing. He looks at the mirror that sat in the corner of the room. He sighs looking over his appearance.

There’s no way a beautiful, young girl like you would look at him the same way, as much as he wished it. His slightly protruding stomach, a sign of all the drinking and his bad diet. He had a little bit of a double chin from angles as well. He sticks is neck out to try to remember what his face looked like when his jaw was more defined. He realizes how ridiculous he was being. He didn’t think you were the kind of person to care that much about the things that very much bothered him. He runs a hand through his hair, and continues to hang up his shirts in the closet. You were turning him soft, and you had no idea.

He hears you coming up the stairs, and he feels his heartbeat quicken like you were going to catch him thinking about you. He was being so stupid, he chastises himself. He couldn’t have you affecting him like this. He turned his head and catches your eye as you are heading into the bathroom in the hallway.

“Just washing up before supper,” you say casually, and heading into the bathroom. He had to pull himself together. He sighed, thinking about your sweetness and hospitality ever since he showed up at your door two nights ago. You welcomed him into your home without a second thought. You trusted him, and that made him feel even more guilty. He couldn’t be thinking that anything between the two of you could happen. He needed to be a good man. But Christ, how even could a good man keep himself in check when he’s in such close quarters with you?

“Made mac and cheese with some grilled chicken if you’re hungry,” you say, not looking back at him but just immediately heading back down the hallway and down the stairs. He watched you walk away, biting his lip at how your ass looked in that denim. He gently hits his head against the mirror, like that’s somehow going to snap him out of it. He makes a fist and then stretches out his hands like that will do anything.

“Ms. Perry and Mrs. Sinclair cornered me outside Church today,” you said with a chuckle, as he came into the kitchen.

“Yeah?” he asks, taking the plate you hand to him. He opens up the drawer and grabs silverware for him and yourself while you put your plate together.

“Yeah,” you grinned, biting your lip. “I’m the talk of the town apparently.”

“I’m sorry about that, hun,” he says sympathetically, “That’s all my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” you say, walking over to your kitchen table and taking a seat. “I find them kind of funny,” you shrug, “They were talking about me long before this and this is just the newest thing.”

“What did they say?” he asks, as he takes his seat across from you. It was a small table, only was able to seat two comfortably, anymore would be too crowded.

“They think I should be using you as a ride to Church,” you reply, “Also that our situation ain’t fitting according to Ms. Beaumont. But they insisted they don’t think that at all.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he grins.

“I thought she was gonna ask me how much I’m charging you for rent next,” you scoff before taking a bit of food.

“Do they bother you?” he asks. He felt bad at how this living situation would affect you. He understood how much keeping up appearances mattered in this town. If someone were to start a nasty rumor, your name would be tarnish all over town. You might as well start wearing a big red A on your jacket.

“Not really,” you shrug. “It bothered me in the moment, cause they cornered me, but I have no reason to be worried. It’s not like anything they say is gonna amount to anything without evidence. They can insinuate all they want.”

The word evidence hung heavy on his mind. His brain running through scenarios if you both actually had something worth hiding. Kissing you in the backseat of the cruiser pulled into some back road by the water somewhere or sneaking touches under the table at the diner. It wouldn’t be wrong, not really, he thought to himself. You’re an adult and if you felt the same way fuck what the town would think.

You actually thought the Sheriff was quite handsome. You hadn’t really been able to look past how intimidating he looked sometimes or his gruff exterior. The man sitting across from you was not like the guy that makes the town cower away from him at times. He was relaxed, his face especially. It was a rare form for him. The man seemed to constantly be stressed, full of pent-up tension, no doubt due to the stress of his job. You noticed that his eyes looked softer, and how blue they were. Suddenly, you realized it was just you and him- alone. Living in your house. You felt your face heat up, and he picked up on your change in demeanor.

“You alright?” he asks, looking over at you.

“Yeah,” you say, a little nervously. “Just need some water.”

You get up and head over to the cabinet next to the sink, and you reach up to get yourself a glass. Suddenly, you feel his presence behind you, making you jump. He’s just reaching to get himself a glass too, his body pressing very lightly against you. He gives you a concerned look as you look flustered and you let out a small gasp.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya,” he says, and you could almost swear you saw him smirking. He takes his glass over to the fridge and pours himself some of the iced-tea from the pitcher you keep inside the fridge.

“I think you’re right about Reverend Teagardin,” you say, trying desperately to reorient yourself.

“He’s no good,” Lee agreed. “He’s crooked. Just be careful around him, sweetheart.” Those damn pet names were making your stomach churn with butterflies.

“I think I’m too old to be on his radar,” you admit quietly, in a rushed tone. Your accusation hushed, even if it was just you and Lee.

“You see him do anything?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No, not really,” you say, “but he talks for an awful long time to the high school aged girls after services. I don’t know it just gives me a gut feeling about him. Those poor girls, like Lenora- they don’t know when their being sweet talked and manipulated. Just makes me nervous. Married man talking to those girls so shamelessly- charming them.”

“I’ll try to swing by and check the place out,” he nods, looking a little lost in thought.

“That’ll make me feel so much better,” you smile. He grins and licks his lips, before taking a swig of his drink.

You both take a seat at the table again, finishing up dinner fairly quickly. You asked him about his day and he told you all about Miller and the papers, and you listened intently. You felt bad he had to go through that. Yeah, Lee was not a picture-perfect husband by any means, you were sure. But the actions he faced today still sounded harsh. Somewhere in your mind, you thought he deserved better. Maybe he didn’t, but the man was clearly in pain and it tugs at your heartstrings.

“Since you made dinner, I can clean up,” he offered.

“That’s really sweet. Thanks, Lee,” you smile shyly. This all felt so… domestic. You were acting like a married couple. It’s not like the two of you could help it. You were living under the same roof and existing in the same space. This is how people who live together interact. That’s it. Right?

“I think I’ll call and leave a message at the donation center so they send someone to get those boxes tomorrow,” you decide. You head over to the living room where you kept your phone, pulling out your address book out of a drawer in the table the phone rested on. Lee nodded, taking your dishes and his own over to the sink.

You sit on the couch, criss cross and hold the base of the phone on one knee, resting the receiver up to your ear with your elbow. You dial the number, the phone clicking every time the dial falls back into place.

Lee can’t make out what you are saying, but he chuckles recognizing the tone of voice you use- like a customer service voice he’ll hear you pull out at the bar often. He does the dishes, and just lets himself escape into his fantasies again. His mind was racing about what those women at Church thought was happening between the two of you. He knows its wrong, but god he wishes it was real.

He imagines that after you both have gone to bed you show up at his door in the middle of the night- looking like how you did the night you agreed to let him stay. You confess how much you want him and he just pulls you into a rushed kiss- you just overtaken by the sudden relief of all the pent-up tension. He imagines how it would feel to hear little moans against his lips coming from you when he slips his tongue into your mouth. He can almost feel what it would be like to have you tightly against his body. His hands being allowed to just freely explore you and how you must look under him, begging and needy-

“Okay, that’s all set,” you announce walking back into the kitchen. “Hopefully they’ll send someone over first thing.”

“G-good, yeah,” he stutters out, pulling himself out of his daydream. “Do you have work tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I go in at 4,” you reply, not noticing how flustered he is. He’s relieved to see you looking in the fridge and it gives him a chance to adjust before you saw how hard he was.

“Need a ride?” He asks. “I can pick you up on my way home.”

“Perfect,” you smile when you turn to face him. “Thank you. I’m gonna see if there is anything good on the television we can watch.”

“Sounds good, doll,” he says, relieved when she finally heads back into the other room, taking her seat on the couch again, clicking through the channels.

He needed a minute before heading in there. Every time you were in the room he felt like his skin was on fire. He knew if he wanted to stay, he needed to get a grip. He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. He joined you in the living room and sat on the other end of the couch. There was an old picture playing on the black and white set.

Neither of you could pay attention to the damn screen no matter how hard you tried. The tension in the room- between the both of you was borderline unbearable. Both of you were stealing glances at the other, not realizing the other person was doing the same. When you would look over to him, his eyes would be toward the tv set, seeming to be watching the picture- but he also looked incredibly tense. You wondered if he was hanging out with you because he felt like he needed to. You feel awkward now thinking he’s just sitting though this to not be rude.

Lee was on the whole other side of the world in comparison to what you thought he was thinking about. He was trying desperately to gain some level of composure. He felt like he was acting like a teenager again, fucking jumping out of his skin sitting next to a pretty girl. He hadn’t felt like this in a very long time. An hour went by, neither of you saying anything- him just lost in his own thoughts. But then he felt your head hit his shoulder ever so lightly.

You had fallen asleep. He wondered how long you had been sleeping before he even realized. Here he was stressed out as ever and you are relaxed enough to fall asleep. He doesn’t even dare move. His whole body goes stiff, not wanting anything to wake you up. He wouldn’t move from this spot for all the money in the world. You were blissfully unaware at how you cuddled up next to him, your face resting in the crook of his neck. You were going to be the death of him.

He very carefully wanted to just make himself a little more comfortable. He slowly moved the arm you had pinned and adjusted so it was wrapped around your shoulder. His fingertips just grazing your skin where the sleeve of your t-shirt ended lightly. Your skin was so soft, and he bites his lip, thinking about how soft you must feel everywhere. The man was so goddamn touched starved. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was this close with Janie. It had to have been years since he experienced something this intimate. After a very long internal battle, he allowed himself to rest his head on top of yours and close his eyes for a few. He didn’t intend on falling asleep, just bask selfishly in the moment for a few minutes.

You opened your eyes and yawned softly. You looked at the clock and saw that it was well past midnight. You closed your eyes again, too tired to realize the position you were in at first. Then, a minute later you realized, and your eyes shot open again. Cuddled up to Lee’s side, his arm loosely around you. His head rested on the back of the couch, looking so peaceful.

Fuck. You were so embarrassed. You hoped he had fallen asleep first and would have no knowledge of this interaction in the morning. You carefully untangled yourself from him, moving as slow as possible to not wake him up.

You clicked off the TV and then turned off the lights, getting ready to retire up to your room for the night. You felt so hot, flushed with pure embarrassment. Your mouth was dry and the only thing you think about was cold water. You tip-toe into the kitchen and fill yourself a glass, drinking the whole thing at once. You turn off the kitchen light and leave your glass in the sick before heading upstairs.

You change out of your overalls and shirt and put on your blue nightgown. You head across the hall to the bathroom, navigating in the dark. You brush your hair, wash your face and brush your teeth before climbing into your bed and swaddling yourself with your many blankets. Your eyes are heavy, and the feeling of being in Lee’s arms is still present on your skin.

His large hands sliding up your thighs is what jolts you awake. His calloused hands moving their way up your body, pushing up your dress as they went. He dips down and presses a tantalizing kiss to your lips, one hand cupping your cheek softly and the other rubbing over your wet panties. You kiss him back, opening your mouth and letting his tongue in. You can feel his hand slip under the waistband of your panties and his thumb gently rubs your clit. Without even questioning anything, you moan and he trails his lips down to your neck, and you shiver at the feeling of his stubble. You arms wrap loosely around his neck, and your fingers play with the ends of his short hair. He groans against your skin and the sound just sends a shiver throughout your whole body. You can feel him smile, and he pushes two fingers inside. You gasp and he muffles your sounds with another deep kiss. You feel overwhelmed by how good it feels combined with the terms of endearment that fall from his lips as he praises you.

The ringing of your alarm clock scares the shit out of you, and your eyes fly open at the sound. You’re breathing heavily, and you feel your hair sticking to your forehead. You let out a heavy sigh, and click off the alarm, and then cover your face with your pillow. You felt how wet you were without having to check. You had a sex dream about Lee. A fucking wet dream about Lee Bodecker.

Part Three

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pillage-and-lute · 4 years

Note

(For next time you’re looking for prompts) I really like your writing, and when I thought of this I wondered what you’d do with it: Geralt and Jaskier are together, but agree to pretend not to be for their next stop. Maybe one of them wants to win an old bet, or Jaskier’s not 100% sure his betrothal to a local noble has been officially dissolved, whatever, (not homophobia), fluff and high jinx ensue. Anyway I hope something unexpectedly nice happens to you today.

Hi Dahliavandare! Thanks for the blessing in my inbox 🥰

This ran away from me, tons of backstory about Jaskier’s family. Just, way too much.

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“Geralt, darling,” Jaskier said hesitantly. “I have an errand we need to run, and I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

Geralt hummed noncommittally. They were resting at their camp outside of Hagge and the warm summer air and the feeling of Jaskier curled against him had lulled him into a warm, fuzzy stupor.

“You see,” Jaskier continued, fiddling with the buttons at his cuffs. “I’m a noble, and you know that of course.” He laughed awkwardly. “And I’ve been lucky enough to pawn most of those responsibilities off onto my much savvier sister, but there are certain niceties that landed families observe that--”

“Spit it out,” Geralt grumbled, although not bad naturedly.

“I’m betrothed,” Jaskier said. “And we need to go to Gwendeith to break it off.”

Geralt turned to look at his beloved. “You’re engaged?”

“Betrothed!” Jaskier yelped, then saw Geralt’s expression. “Oh, dear heart, there’s a slight difference in meaning, especially to nobles. Engaged implies an intent to marry--”

“And betrothed doesn’t?”

“Well, sort of, but I’ve been betrothed practically since I was born, engaged would imply I’m sort of planning the wedding. It’s a contract, a social contract. My family and my betrothed’s are pretty minor nobles, so really it’s just a way of saying ‘maybe someday our kids could marry’. It isn’t the hard and fast marriage it might be if I were, say, a prince.”

“Then why do it?” Geralt asked. Most of the time he was happy to understand as little of the lives of the gentry as possible, but Jaskier was important.

“Honestly,” Jaskier sighed. “I think Papa arranged it because he cared for me, Mama too.”

“It takes away your choice,” Geralt began.

“It doesn’t. A betrothal like mine and... Iliana, that’s her name, only met her twice, it’s sort of social insurance. Especially for her, but for me as well. Nobles are supposed to marry, so, if at some point neither of us had found love we could marry one another. For Iliana there’s the security of having a husband, although from what I’ve heard she can handle herself fine, and for me its assurance of heirs if that sort of thing concerned me, and companionship for us both.”

It sounded...mostly sort of logical to Geralt.

“But I love you,” Jaskier said. “And I don’t want to be betrothed to anyone because I love you and, someday, whenever you get over you allergy to the concept of commitment, I’m going to put a ring on you.”

Geralt hummed gruffly but said nothing. There was a slim golden band hidden away in his bags and he be damned if Jaskier got to propose first.

“I will. Anyway, I need to tell Iliana. I’m sure she won’t mind. I met her once when I was seven and again when I was nineteen.”

“Nineteen, when?” Geralt asked. Most of Jaskier’s nineteenth year had been spent at Geralt’s side. Most of every year after that too.

“Just before I met you. I had travelled east to meet her originally, and was going back west when we met.”

“Tell me about her?”

“Illiana? Oh, well, she told me that she was fine leaving the betrothal in place because it’s standard, but that she doesn’t care for men in that way so she’d never give me heirs and would have my balls nailed above her door if I ever told her she had to.”

“Sounds like she’d get along with Yen.”

“I fear they’d take over the world,” Jaskier said. “Anyway, I told her no worries since, honestly, heirs just aren’t important to me. Then we agreed that when either of us found love we’d break the betrothal and that would be that.”

“Hmmm.”

“No, Geralt, tell me what that means. Is that a ‘okay, let’s go to Gwendeith’ hum? A ‘I’m angry that you’re betrothed’ hum?”

Geralt shifted to poke the fire. “It’s a ‘I think there’s more you need to tell me’ hum.”

“Ah,” Jaskier rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s the thing. We have to go in person because a letter would be rude, but also...we have to pretend not to be together, while we’re in Gwedeith.”

“Why?”

“It’s politics, dear heart. It would be shaming to Iliana, socially. Personally, I don’t think she’d care, but it’s a courtesy thing.”

“I don’t do a lot of lovey stuff anyway,” Geralt said.

“You think you don’t,” Jaskier said. He began to unroll their bedroll.

“What do you mean, Jaskier?”

Jaskier turned to him, smiling indulgently and gilded in the firelight. “Our lives have molded around one another, my love. When I stand beside you your hand goes to my back or my shoulder. You order dinner for me because you know just what food I like. When I’m tired you don’t have to ask what’s wrong, you just lift me onto Roach behind you.”

Geralt hadn’t even realized he did, but he knew it was true. Jaskier leaned over and pressed a kiss to Geralt’s slightly furrowed brow.

“When my boots are wearing thin you buy me new ones before I even notice. When I’m cold you give me your cloak. If I fall asleep with my head on your shoulder you’d rather sit like that all night than disturb me.”

Geralt shrugged awkwardly. “You buy me beeswax,” he said. It seemed a fair retort. Jaskier bought him beeswax to put in his ears when cities or sometimes monsters were too loud for Geralt’s senses. “You only buy light scents, even though I know you like bolder perfumes.”

“Yes,” Jaskier said, taking one of Geralt’s large, scarred hands. “We love eachother very much, and it’s obvious to people who care to look.”

“That could be dangerous,” Geralt began, his head spiralling towards worry for Jaskier’s safety, but Jaskier cut him off.

“No, dear heart. It’s obvious to those who care to look. The sort of people who would hurt me for loving you, well, most of them think you can’t love, so they don’t look for love, and they don’t see.”

Geralt sat back. People saw what they expected to see, it was true.

“We’ll travel to Gwendeith,” he said. “And unbetroth you.”

Jaskier kissed him and his lips tasted like the jerky they’d eaten for supper.

-- -- -- -- -- --

The trip to Gwendeith was long. It was at the very edge of any map, past Posada to the east, tucked into the Blue mountains. They traveled along the Dyfne river, taking the occasional contract but making good time. This far from anything, there were few people to be troubled by monsters.

They stopped in Posada one night, eating dinner in the corner of a familiar tavern. This time, however, Jaskier was much better received and the bread ended up on the table rather than down his trousers.

Past Posada, and almost to the end of the Dyfne river, Geralt asked, “Why did your parents pick Iliana? How did they know of her?” Lettenhove was entirely the other side of the continent, a tiny island off the coast of Poviss with two villages and a couple flocks of sheep.

Geralt only knew of it from Jaskier’s descriptions, which were mostly stories of the ice cold sea and rocky cliffs. He tended toward calling it ‘idyllic’ and ‘picturesque’ altough occassionally ‘the arse end of the world’ and ‘colder than an ice giant’s ballsack.’ The first time Geralt had taken Jaskier to Kaer Morhen he’d feared for his bard’s safety in the cold of the mountains, but Jaskier hadn’t even blinked an eye, merely bundling up in a hugely wooly cloak and mittens.

“Ah, well,” Jaskier said. “Long story, but Papa was in Temeria, see, since nothing ever happens in Lettenhove, because we have more people than sheep, he get’s sent on diplomatic missions a lot. He’s good at it, and he can be spared. He loves it too, even though he’s sort of retired he still does them. Takes Ma, calls the trips his little “sunshine vacations”.

“You get your personality from your father, then?” Geralt asked. Jaskier didn’t talk about his family much, and Geralt got the sense that, rather than this being because they were horrible, Jaskier simply missed them too much.

“Definitely. Ma’s lovely, and brilliant with just everything to do with her hands, but she’s not good with people. I got her looks, though.”

“I should thank her, then,” Geralt said, smiling.

Jaskier chuckled. “Yes, she’s the reason for the long lives, too, fantastic story.”

“Finish the one about your father and Gwendeith first.”

“Right, so Papa was in Temeria, and so was Iliana’s father, sort of the mayor of Gwendeith, as I understand, although not back then. He’d gotten robbed, though, and Papa had won a horse and quite a lot of gold in a card game. It might have been Gwent, I can’t remember. If you ever meet Papa you should ask him. Anyway, he gave the extra horse and gold to Iliana’s father.”

“So your betrothal was a debt?”

“Goodness, no. This was years before I was born, Papa hadn’t even met Ma yet. No, they struck up a friendship, because when Iliana’s father got home he had a mage send a message to Papa to thank him and they struck up a friendship.”

“Sending messages by mage? That’s expensive for a penpal.”

“Ah well, that actually ties in to the story about Ma. Ma’s got magic, just a little, she’s a hedge witch of a sort. The issue is, hedge witches mostly use plants, and Ma couldn’t grow grass, so she mostly works with wood. Anyway, she has a friend, her very best friend, is a mage. They grew up together, and my Auntie Szarlotta sent my Papa’s first few messages back to Iliana’s father.”

Geralt smiled atop Roach. Jaskier’s storytelling pace was as familiar as Roach’s saddle, and it was calming in a way.

“So, Auntie was sending Papa’s message when Ma came in to visit. That’s how she met Papa, because she’d only just moved to Lettenhove. Auntie says it was love at first sight, but Papa insists that Ma turned up her nose and ignored him for months.”

“Which one is it?”

“Knowing Ma, probably both. She’s a little like you, so the second she realized she liked Papa she ignored him so she wouldn’t have to deal with it.”

Geralt huffed good-naturedly.

“Anyway, Auntie Szarlotta agreed to send Papa’s messages for free, and she even included a way for Iliana’s father to send them back, so long as he wrote his response on the back of the same paper. She always timed it though, so that Ma was over when Papa was there. And I guess the rest is history.”

“Except the immortality.”

“Right, well, Ma got really sick when she was pregnant with my sister, I was little so I barely remember but Papa was so worried, and Ma looked really pale. Well, Auntie got really worried, freaked out a little, and she found all these old spells to try to make Ma well again. I remeber the light, she was working in a room of the old lighthouse and I could see the light of her spells from my window. Anyway, eventually she tries some on Ma, but they don’t work, and she just keeps trying.”

Geralt had an image of a frantic sorceress being watched by a young Jaskier through a crack in a door.

“But I suppose some of those old spells need a little time to work because nothing at all worked and then they all sort of worked at once. There was this big, bright light and then Ma was well, and she and Papa haven’t aged a day since then.”

Geralt glanced at his lover, who looked the same at fifty as he had at twenty. “And you don’t age? What about your sister?”

“Ksenia hasn’t aged either. She looks like Papa, just so you know, grey eyes, blonde hair. She’s got two kids, now, but I haven’t met them.”

“Do the kids age?”

“Right now they’re very young,” Jaskier said. “I didn’t stop aging until nineteen or twenty, so I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

“How do you know she has kids?”

“Oh, well, Auntie Szarlotta sends letters to me, but we travel and it’s hard to send them right to me, so I just pick them up at Oxenfurt.”

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. He needed to go to Lettenhove. Jaskier had met his sort-of-family, he should meet Jaskier’s.

“I’d love to go see them...” Jaskier said, wistfully.

“Who?”

“My niece and nephew, they’re almost two and three years old now.”

Geralt picked Jaskier up by the collar of his doublet and placed him onto the back of Roach.

“We’ll spend the winter in Lettenhove this year,” he said as Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist.

“Really?”

“Hmmm.”

Geralt needed to ask Jaskier’s father for his hand in marriage, anyway.

-- -- -- -- -- --

They made it to Gwendeith just after mid summer, riding into the little town at noon. Despite the season, the little mountain valley was shaded and cool. Jaskier shivered slightly and Geralt had to resist the urge to pull his cloak from his pack. From that point forth, they weren’t supposed to be in love.

Fuck.

They had to request a meeting with the mayor, which didn’t surprise Geralt. In a town such as this, logging and mining were the main industries. Trading for food to last over the winter began early and was of the utmost importance. That left Geralt and Jaskier, unfortunately, sitting with a man who introduced himself as Sir Boris.

Apparently he was a retired knight who acted as a sort of captain of the guard, except there wasn’t much of a guard. His wife Lady Olenka joined them and the two of them talked about their grandchildren until Geralt could feel his eyes rolling back in his head.

At any other time, Jaskier would have placed one gentle hand on his wrist, which would have fortified Geralt, but they couldn’t.

“But you’re here for Iliana,” Sir Boris was saying. “Dreadfully sorry you can’t see her today, I’m afraid there’s been an issue with the lumber trade to sort out. You’ll just have to have my darling Lenka and I as company until that’s done.”

He sent a huge wink to his wife, a slim, elegant woman, who chuckled and playfully hit him on the shoulder, to which Sir Boris pretended to be wounded before throwing back his head and laughing hugely. Everything the old knight did was huge, he was a large man with a round, red face and large belly and a laugh that could shake walls.

“It’s no trouble,” Jaskier said. “I’m sure preparing for winter is a year round project here.”

“Oh of course,” Lady Olenka said. “But once it’s here we can all relax, and spend time with family.” She leaned forward as if imparting a delightful secret and said in a stage-whisper, “Boris has been our town’s Father Winter for the last four years.”

Jaskier made impressed ‘ooh’ noises and Geralt tried to at least look like he understood that.

Boris laughed again. “It’s this lot,” he said, slapping his round stomach. “Better than some old geezer with a pillow down his shirt, eh?”

Geralt hummed in agreement.

“And you must make a lovely Mother Winter, Lady Olenka,” Jaskier said politely.

She smiled, lines crinkling around her eyes as if drawing a road map. “It’s not as important as Father Winter, of course, but I rather pride myself that I plan a very good Midwinter festival.” Geralt got the sense that behind the modesty she was quite proud, and, he suspected, with good reason.

“But, you must tell me,” she said, modestly changing the subject. “Is there to be a missus Pankratz, now that you’ve come to see Lady Iliana?”

“I am a man in love,” Jaskier said. “And I am hopeful that an engagement will come soon, yes.”

“Oh dearie that’s just lovely,” Lady Olenka said, patting Jaskier’s cheek. “And you’re such a nice boy too, little young looking to be betrothed to our Lady Iliana anyway, although she’s a very dear woman.”

“We just love her,” Sir Boris said. “She’s a great mayor, not keen on marriage, but nobody minds, she just seems to have adopted the whole town as family.”

Lady Olenka patted her husband’s broad shoulder. “It was smart of you not to bring your love here, though. There’s some nobles here from Lyria, that’s who she’s been trading with, and I think they’d like any excuse to disparage here.” She lowered her voice again. “You know how those lot are about having women in charge.”

“I can’t relate,” Sir Boris laughed. “Lenka’s the ruler in our house.” That got a laugh because it had to, and because Sir Boris’s laugh was surprisingly infectious.

“Good on you bringing a bodyguard too,” he said once the laughter had abated. He slapped Geralt companionably on the back, which was like being hit by a friendly battering ram. “Witcher too, don’t get many up here, but I bet you’re the safest man in a hundred miles.”

“Oh, dear, don’t you know?” Lady Olenka said. “Lord Julian here is a bard as well, he goes by Jaskier and sings all about witchers.”

“Really?” Sir Boris said, looking at Jaskier. “Blimey, imagine that. Good on you, finding a niche in the market.”

Geralt’s ears were beginning to ache. Friendly though Sir Boris might be, he didn’t seem to have a volume level below ‘deafening’. He was tired and overwrought and he just wanted to cuddle up with Jaskier in a bed. It wasn’t even suppertime, though.

They sat through another hour of hearing about Boris and Olenka’s eighteen grandchildren.

“And three great-grandchildren,” Boris added proudly.

Geralt was thankful Jaskier could carry the conversation. He longed for a kiss, though. Now that he knew he couldn’t have one, his lips fairly ached for one.

Supper was a large affair, with one of Boris and Olenka’s children’s family over for dinner as well. Geralt was seated across from Jaskier between two small children who, apparently, needed to be separated at dinertimes to prevent bickering. They contented themselves instead by asking Geralt every question they could think of, often making him wrack his brain for child appropriate answers.

It wasn’t just witchering questions, either. He answered such questions as “Why is the sky blue?” (Because it’s Melitele’s favorite color). Immediately before answering “How big are dragon scales?” (The small ones are like pebbles and the big ones are like shields.)

Jaskier smiled at him over his bowl of stew, eyes sparkling. Geralt loved children, and Jaskier loved seeing them adore Geralt.

“So, Lord Julian,” Boris and Olenka’s daughter began. “Your lady love, tell us about her?” She smiled Lady Olenka’s warm smile and Jaskier did a good show of seeming bashful.

“My love is unlike any other,” he began. “And if you’ll pardon my saying so, I’m a poet, and so must wax poetic.”

“Wouldn’t settle for anything less, lad!” Boris bellowed cheefully.

“My darling has fair hair, like moonlight,” Jaskier said, and the table oohed appreciatively. Geralt felt his ears get hot.

“And eyes like summer,” the bard continued. “I could get lost in them. No eyes could compare.” Geralt kicked him under the table, but Olenka was sighing sympathetically.

“But of course,” Jaskier said slyly, my heart is best held by my love’s lips.”

Boris chuckled knowingly. “I’ll bet it is, my boy,” he said, winking. Olenka slapped his arm, but she was smiling. Geralt felt hot.

“I’m afraid, however that my lover is quite modest, and won’t appreciate me extolling too many virtues,” Jaskier finished. “So I must finish with, I love them very much, and it is for them alone that my heart beats.”

Therewith leaving every person at the table (those above the age of twelve, at least) with misty eyes, Jaskier helped Lady Olenka clean up supper. Geralt helped put the dishes away.

After dinner they were led back to the mayor’s house. “I’m afraid the negotiations don’t seem to be finished,” Lady Olenka said. “I had hoped they would be quick, but it seems not. If the issue wasn’t resolved today, I wouldn’t bet on them being resolved too early tomorrow, either. You two don’t have pressing business elsewhere?”

“No, my lady,” Jaskier said, although if they lingered too long they wouldn’t make it to Lettenhove for the winter, as it was, it would be close.

“I’m sure she’ll be able to see you soon,” the lady said. “Here’s your room, and Master Witcher, your room is just at the far end of the hall.”

She said goodnight and Geralt hoped she couldn’t see the slump of his shoulders.

Separate rooms.

Jaskier smiled ruefully at him and they parted for the night. Geralt’s bed was large and comfortable, with clean linens and feather pillows, but he barely got a wink of sleep.

-- -- -- -- -- --

The next morning found Jaskier and Geralt breakfasting in the tavern, owned, apparently, by another of Boris and Olenka’s grown children.

“Did you sleep well?” Jaskier whispered over a plate of sausage and eggs.

“Fine,” Geralt grunted.

“I couldn’t sleep a wink,” Jaskier said. “Want my last piece of bacon? I’m stuffed.”

Geralt took it gratefully, slipping Jaskier his fried slice as a trade. No matter how Jaskier protested that he was stuffed, he always had room for a fried slice.”

“Terrible woman,” said a nasal voice at the next table. “Just impossible to do business with.”

“I agree, overemotional, you know how they get,” agreed another voice. Jaskier made eye contact with Geralt. The accent was Lyrian.

“Not even married,” said the first speaker. “What a disgrace. If my daughter got to her age without children I’d just die of shame.”

Geralt pitied his daughter.

“Oh of course,” said the second man. “Attractive, though, for an old maid.”

The first man snickered cruelly. “Thinking a little wooing might soften her up?”

“It always does, women like that, they’re just angry because they haven’t found a man.”

“Won’t your wife mind?”

“Are you going to tell her?” Both men laughed unpleasantly.

A serving girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, came around the tables, presumably one of Sir Boris’ many granddaughters. She took their plates onto a tray and smiled when Jaskier slipped a few coins onto the tray as a tip.

At the next table one of the Lyrian’s snapped their fingers impatiently. The girl rolled her eyes. Geralt was pleased to see that, although she served him professionally, as she walked away she ‘accidentally’ tread on his foot.

“What pathetic pieces of shit, the pair of them,” Jaskier said as they stepped out into the sunlight.

“Hmmm,” Geralt agreed. Then he looked around quickly and pulled Jaskier into an alleyway, urging the bard deeper into the shadows.

“What? Geralt di-”

Geralt smushed his lips gracelessly to Jaskier’s, crowding him up against the wall. Jaskier’s hair between his fingers was so familiar and comforting, as was the little sigh Jaskier let out.

They pulled apart and Geralt rested his forehead against Jaskier’s. “That’ll tide me over for a while,” he whispered. Jaskier smiled.

“Are you master Julian?”

The pair sprang apart, looking in alarm at the red headed boy at the far end of the alley.

“Yes...?” Jaskier said.

“Only, Pa said to come find you, and he said you’d be with a big man dressed all in black.”

“And you found us here?” Jaskier asked.

“Didn’t know you’d be here, did I?” Said the boy, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets. “It’s the shortcut through to the tavern, but then, I figured he’s the only big man in black around.”

Geralt inclined his head, feeling his ears go hot.

“Lady Iliana has time to see you now,” the boy continued, oblivious to the awkwardness.

“By all means...lead the way,” said Jaskier.

They were led out of the alley and back to the mayor’s house by the messenger boy.

“Out of curiosity,” Jaskier asked. “Is your grandad Sir Boris?”

“Yeah, that’s him,” said the lad. “He made me a toy sword for my tenth birthday too.” He pointed proudly to the wooden sword tied at his hip with some string.

“It makes you look a proper hero,” Jaskier said. Then he pulled out his coin purse. “A copper for bringing us the message and...another to not tell anyone what you saw.”

The boy looked between the two of them shrewdly.

“Not even my best friend? I tell Mikhail everything.”

“Not until Geralt and I have left.”

“Three coppers total,” the boy said promptly. Jaskier handed them over good naturedly and the boy flashed a gap toothed grin before taking off.

Geralt and Jaskier shrugged at each other, before finding their way to the main room of the mayor’s house. A broad shouldered woman of about fifty poked her head out of a door.

“Julian?”

Geralt and Jaskier went inside.

“You look well,” Iliana said, sitting behind a large desk and gesturing to a couple chairs. “You havent’ aged a day.”

“And you look as lovely as I remember,” Jaskier said.

“Flirt. Come to ask me for heirs?”

Jaskier shuddered. “No, my lady. I remember your threat well. I think you know why I’m here.”

The two Lyrians barged through the door.

“Did I ask you to enter?” Iliana said, coldly. Geralt felt an unusual curl of fear set up in his stomach, she was a distinctly fearsome woman.

“Well,” said the first Lyrian.

“You were so beautiful, I couldn’t wait on seeing you again,” said the second, slimily.

“Oh I say!,” Iliana said, standing. She placed her hand over her chest in a delicately offended way, which was ill suited to her. “You sir are too bold, and in front of my betrothed too!”

The Lyrians looked, panicked, at the people sat in the chairs. As Geralt was seated in the chair nearest the door, and therefore nearest them, they came to the wrong conclusion. The blood drained from both their faces.

“What an insult!” Iliana continued. “You should be ashamed! What a lack of diplomacy!”

Beside Geralt, Jaskier snickered. She was laying it on a little thick.

“Why,” she continued. “I ought to write to your king! I’ve never been so insulted. And I’m sure my beloved will want to sort out this insult too.” She fluttered her lashes at Geralt.

Geralt nearly jumped out of his seat, but thankfully his brain caught up. He stood, growling a little theatrically and placed one hand on the hilt of his steel sword.

“Our apologies my lady,” the first man said hurriedly.

“Our mistake, we’ll just--” they dissappeared out the door.

“What a fearsome couple,” Geralt heard whispered as the door swung shut.

Iliana sighed satisfactedly and kicked her feet up on her desk. “It seems I should thank you,” she said. “That is going to make negotiations much easier.”

“I’m sure you always get good deals,” Jaskier said.

“Yes. I get the deals I want.”

“You know why I’m here,” Jaskier said.

“Yes.”

“Do you agree?”

“To disolve the betrothal? Of course. Never found a lover for myself so I never bothered but, well, I just don’t do romance.”

“Some people don’t,” Geralt said, thinking of Eskel.”

“Indeed,” Iliana said, smiling warmly at him. “Not all of us have a soulmate to sing us songs.” She laughed at their surprised faces.

“Oh you fooled them, and you may have fooled Boris and Olenka, but I’ve heard your songs, Julian. It’s written right into everything you do.”

She began rummaging in one of the drawers in the desk. “I don’t mind, of course. So few people know we’re actually betrothed...there it is.” She pulled out an old piece of paper. “I’ll just rip it up if that’s fine by you. You’ll have to do the same to yours of course.”

“We’re going to Lettenhove this winter,” Jaskier said. “I’ll do it as soon as I find it.”

Iliana smiled again. “Father always did say that your dad had a horrible filing system.”

“He filed all his papers on the floor, yes, although I imagine my sister is neater.”

Iliana tore the paper in half without ceremony and placed the contract in the waste paper bin. “Lettenhove is very far away, Julian, will you get there in time?”

Jaskier glanced at Geralt.

“I don’t know,” Geralt said.

“No matter,” said Iliana. She began writing something on a new sheet of paper. “Our logging teams float lumber all down the Dyfne and Pontar rivers. Show this to the dockmaster at the tip of the Dyfne and our riverboat captains can get you to Novigrad.”

She pulled out another sheet of paper. “Once you’re in Novigrad, show this to the harbormaster and he’ll get you to Lettenhove.” She looked at their shocked faces and smiled. “Our lumber is the best, and it’s used in everything, including ships. I’m willing to cash in a favor in order to get rid of a useless betrothal.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Jaskier said bowing deeply. “I’ll have my Aunt Szarlotta send a message once our betrothal is fully extant.”

Iliana stood and shook his hand. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Our fathers were penpals,” Jaskier said. “Perhaps we should keep up the tradition?”

The mayor inclined her head. “I’d like that. I may be too busy to write often.”

Jaskier waved a hand. “I can only pick up messages when I pass through Oxenfurt, but I like to make friends with powerful people.”

The two of them shared a smile.

“Not to rush you out my door,” Iliana said. “But I do have a lot to do, winter comes early up here, and I know it does as well in Lettenhove. even with my help, you two should leave soon.”

Geralt and Jaskier left that afternoon, just after a hearty meal at the tavern.

-- -- -- -- -- --

Across the continent and some weeks later, Jaskier and Geralt stepped onto the docks in Novigrad.

“I don’t think Roach liked the river boats,” Jaskier said as Geralt led her off. Roach whinnied and shook her mane emphatically.

“Sorry, girl,” Geralt said. “You’ll have another long boat journey, and this time I doubt we’ll stop so you can run about on land.”

“Nah,” Jaskier said, as they walked toward a tavern for supper. “Boats from Novigrad to Lettenhove stop around the coast on the way, she’ll get plenty of exercise. It’s something to do with the currents.”

He petted Roach’s muzzle softly as they stabled her at the inn beside the tavern and Geralt felt his heart go out to his bard. Jaskier cared so much for Roach. Geralt thought again of the gold band in his pack.

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s eat.”

-- -- -- -- -- --

Slightly more than a month later, after a slow, coastal boat journey, and then another between Inis Porhoest and Lettenhove, Geralt, Jaskier, and their faithful horse, stepped off the final boat.

“Welcome home, Master Julian,” said a fisherman on the dock.

“Does everyone here know you?” Geralt asked.

“Pretty much, there’s only about three hundred people here.”

News spread fast among three hundred people and Jaskier and Geralt were greeted enthusiastically at the door to the very small castle. A blonde woman who could only be Ksenia, Jaskier’s sister, flung her arms around him, and withing a moment Geralt was being gathered into the hug by a slightly older looking couple.

“Julek,” said the blonde man, pulling back. “My boy, you’re home, and you brought this stunning man, wow, what a looker.”

“Papa, don’t be embarrassing,” Jaskier said. Geralt flushed clear to the roots of his hair. Apparently when Jaskier said he had his father’s personality he meant all of his father’s personality.

They had dinner as a family, including Jaskier’s niece and nephew, Cecylia and Prot. They had questions for Geralt, and he was grateful for the practice he’d had in Gwendeith. It was an enjoyable meal over all, and afterward Jaskier was distracted by his Aunt Szarlotta while Geralt slipped away to ask Mr. Pankratz a very important question.

The two of them returned to the main hall to see Jaskier pretending to be a dragon, while Cecylia and Prot bravely fought him with butterknives, but he straightened up when he saw the look on Geralt’s face.

Geralt took his hand and Jaskier squeezed it three times, it was their code, asking if Geralt needed to go somewhere that wasn’t so hard on his senses. Geralt smiled and shook his head, swallowing nervously around the lump in his throat.

He got down on one knee and pulled out the gold band. “I’m...I’m not good with words.” Geralt swallowed again, wishing he could borrow Jaskier’s eloquence for five minutes or so. “Marry me?”

The words were barely out from his mouth before Jaskier was tackling him to the ground, pressing kisses all over his face.

“Oh Geralt!” he said. “Wait--”

Jaskier looked up at his mother, who smiled and was handed a paper by his Aunt Szarlotta. Mrs. Pankratz ripped the betrothal contract in half.

“Yes,” Jaskier said, laughing. “I will marry you!”

Then they kissed on the chilly stone floor.

-- -- -- -- -- --

Dear Lady Iliana, Mayor of Gwendeith

The former contract has been voided.

Szarlotta of Lettenhove

P.S. Geralt and Jaskier are engaged and send their love.

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Holy Cow. 5603 words. I...I don’t even know what to say. I hope you like it.

#the witcher #geraskier #reverse fake dating #fluff #geralt #jaskier #ask box answers

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