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thetravelerwrites · 5 months

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Margaret and Rourke (Part 1)

Rating: Mature Relationships: Female Human/Male Orc Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Lovers, Interspecies Romance, Orcs, Older Man/Younger Woman Content Warnings: Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of Physical Violence, Mentions of Torture, References to Sexual Assault Resulting in Pregnancy Series: Part 18 of Shelter Forest: The Towns Words: 4,238

The reader's mother from Akjan's fic and her orc hubby get their own fic! After her daughter is taken away from her to be married to an orc chieftain she's never met, Margaret worries she'll never see her again. An orc arrives with news of her daughter and promises to help them reunite. Please leave feedback!

Your daughter had been gone for two months already. The count had ripped her from your arms in an instant on the day of her eighteenth birthday and gave you little to no time to say goodbye. You could only hope that she was well and being treated properly wherever she was, but you had no way to know for sure. You were anxious constantly, unaware if she was healthy or fed properly or even alive, but the idea that she could be somewhere out there, safe and happy, was the only comfort you found in your day to day life.

You were in a lot of pain at the moment. Moving around was difficult, and you struggled to complete your normal tasks. The madam had whipped you mercilessly just the day before for the unspeakable crime of passing in front of her when she was in a bad mood. She’d always been unkind to you, but since she discovered that your daughter, Catherine, was indeed the child of the Count, she had become the human embodiment of cruelty, turning the typical punishments she doled out onto you into nothing short of torture. You had no friends to turn to, since everyone in the manor knew you were the Countess’s favorite punching bag, so they would earn themselves no favors by being kind to you. Without Catherine there to lean on anymore, it was becoming harder to endure the beatings.

As you were working, you saw David, a butler that had been hired recently. His face fell in sympathy as soon as he saw you, likely due to the bruising on your face and the split lip you were sporting. He was one of the few that treated you kindly.

“Margaret, I’m glad I caught you,” He said. “I need your help.”

“My help?” You asked. “I’ll do my best. What can I help with?”

“The master has given me a task in town, but I don’t know my way around quite yet. Could you help me find the…” He consulted a piece of paper in his hand. “The Periwinkle Florist? The master is having guests later this evening and wants new flowers for the foyer and receiving room. Do you know where it is?”

“Oh, yes, I do,” You told him. “It’s quite far, though. I’m surprised Master wants us to go so far out of the way for fresh flowers.”

“You know how the master is,” David said, rolling his eyes. “He wants what he wants.”

Margaret laughed nervously. “Yes. Should we go now? It’ll take us at least an hour to get there and an hour back.”

“That would be best, if we want to return before nightfall,” David agreed. “Are you ready to go as you are?”

“Oh, I just need to grab my shawl and we can go,” You replied, taking a step toward the servants’ quarters.

“Best be quick,” He said. “I’ll wait by the rear door.”

Nodding, you quick-stepped back to your tiny closet and grabbed your crocheted shawl, old and repaired many times. Something felt off about the room, like something was missing, but you figured it was just because Catherine was no longer there, so it felt terribly empty.

You met David, who was carrying a large produce bag, by the back door that led out to the back of the estate, where there were the stables on one side and the tool sheds on the other. Between them was a road used exclusively by the servants into and out of the estate. The two of you set off down it, heading toward the middle ring of the city, where most of the shops were located.

David was pleasant company, engaging you in light small talk to pass the time. He asked about your daughter, which you were only too happy to talk about, and told you about his wife and son, to whom he was sending all of his money. Hearing him fondly describe his son as a “tiny terror” made you smile.

Finally, you arrived, but instead of entering the shop, David directed you to the back of the building. Confused, you followed him. Standing there was an orc whittling a small block of wood. He had long, single-braided dark hair and bright eyes, dressed in a simple tunic and trousers, and a rucksack was set against the wall next to him. He was more slender than most orcs you’d ever seen, though he was tall and had tight, strappy muscles on his arms. He looked up as you approached, though he paused momentarily when he saw you, staring and slack-jawed. His eyebrows drew down into a small frown briefly, gone instantly, though you weren’t sure what that was about. The sight of a man you’d never met before, a physically powerful one at that, filled you with no small amount of terror. Being alone with two men who could easily overpower you made you even less comfortable.

“Who…?” You asked, turning to David.

“Don’t be afraid, Ms. Margaret. This is an associate of mine, Rourke,” David said.

“I… I don’t… What are we doing here, David?” You asked him, becoming very worried and starting to back away.

The orc named Rourke approached the two of you slowly as if approaching a skittish animal.

“Are you Ms. Margaret? Miss Catherine’s mother?” He asked you, and your heart jumped into your throat. Forgetting your fear momentarily, you reached out desperately to clutch his arm.

“Is she alright? Is she safe? Where is she?”

“She’s fine,” Rourke said reassuringly. “She’s married to the chief of the Willowshield Stronghold and being given the respect she’s due as the chieftain’s wife, so you have no reason to worry. We’re here to take you to her.”

“Take me… I…” You hesitated and looked backward in the general direction of the Count’s manor, though it wasn’t in view. “We’re leaving now?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rourke said. “We have to move quickly. If we don’t leave now, we may not have another chance to leave without the Count knowing. I’m sure he’ll realize it sooner rather than later, but we can get a head start if we leave now.”

Anxiety welled up in you, present at all times, but vastly more intense at the moment than normal. You’d never been outside of the city before and had no idea what to expect from the outside world, and you didn’t know these men at all nor have any reason to believe or trust them, but… your baby girl was out there. If there was any chance of seeing her again, you would have to place your trust in strangers.

“I didn’t bring my things,” You replied weakly.

David reached into the large bag he’d brought with him and wrestled out a second smaller bag, which you recognized as your own carpet bag, where you kept your meager treasures. You had bought it ages ago when you first tried to leave the manor, but finding out you were with child had stopped you. As bad as the manor was, even though you were paid pennies, you were still paid. You were fed. There was a bed underneath you and a roof overhead. And… you didn’t know where else you could have gone, anyway. You had been there all your life.

Now… you had that chance. The chance to run.

Looking up at the two men, tears of both fear and hope filling your eyes, and you nodded.

“Alright.”

The three of you managed to get out of the city wall before nightfall, but were forced to camp outside mere feet from it. The two men had set up a small but charming tent for you to use, though they themselves would be sleeping outside. As they went about setting up the camp, building the fire, and cooking an evening meal, you sat there for the first time with nothing in your hands, unsure of what to do.

“Can I help with something?” You asked them.

Rourke smiled at you kindly. “No, Ms. Margaret, we’ve got it well in hand. You rest your bones for a little while. We’ll take care of this.”

Sitting still felt unnatural, but you sat and watched them bustle around. As David stirred the pot over the fire, Rourke retrieved a jar from his bags and came close. You resisted the urge to back away.

“May I sit with you, Ms. Margaret?” He asked. When you nodded, he sat on an upturned log next to you. “This is an ointment our stronghold’s medicine woman made. It’s magic on bruises. Would you mind if I applied a little? That black eye looks nasty.”

“Oh,” You said, looking down to hide behind your hair a little. “Yes, alright.”

“Look up for me, Ms. Margaret,” He said gently.

Carefully, he pulled your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ears. You looked up, surprised by how close he was. This close, you could see he had the prettiest deep brown eyes, glittering like stars in the flickering firelight. They were the same color as clean tilled earth, or savory soup that nourishes the body and soul, or a warm blanket of wool that keeps out the winter chill. They reminded you of every comforting thing you’d ever experienced in your lifetime. You found yourself blushing as those thoughts filled your head, trying to put them out of mind.

“I’m surprised you have a grown child, Ms. Margaret,” Rourke said. You assumed he was attempting to make small talk.

“Why’s that?”

“You look far too young. How old are you, if I might ask?”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?”

“Is it?” He asked, tilting his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. That’s not something orc women care about. In fact, orc women like to brag about their age. Each year they live is a year they beat death. As much as we cherish the idea of dying honorably in battle, we also really like bragging.”

You laughed. “I’m thirty-three.”

“So young!” He said. “You were still just a girl when Mis Catherine was born, eh?”

Your smile faded. “Fifteen, yes.”

He clicked his tongue. “Far too young. I’m amazed you were able to raise a babe when you were hardly more than a babe yourself.”

“Why, how old are you?”

“Fifty-two.”

You pulled back to look at his face. “You're one to talk about not looking one’s age! You barely look out of your thirties! I can’t believe you’re almost twenty years older than I am.”

He laughed. “Well, thank you for the compliment. My daughter complains that we look much more like siblings than parent and child, but I don’t know if that’s a compliment for me or self-deprecation for her.”

“You have a daughter?”

“Oh, yes,” Rourke said. “Just about the same age as Miss Catherine, in fact. She’s my pride and joy. Lost her mother when she was young, so it’s just been me and her ever since then.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright, Ms. Margaret. It was long ago now.”

“Still. You have my sincerest sympathies.”

“I appreciate it. This is pretty bad, by the way,” Rourke said, wincing in sympathy as he applied the ointment to your eye. “What happened?”

“Oh, I…” You looked down and away, careful not to tilt your head out of his reach. “I… it… just happened.”

He paused momentarily before continuing, regarding you soberly.

“Does it ‘just happen’ often?” He asked softly.

“I… I’m a poor worker,” You said quietly. “I’m too slow and lazy, so… I require more… correction than the others do.”

He spread a little of the ointment on the split in your lip, his touch feather soft, before he sat back and gazed at you.

“I can’t claim you know you or your work ethic, Ms. Margaret,” He said. “But no one deserves this kind of punishment. That I do know.”

You looked down and didn’t respond.

Rourke sighed. “Do you know how to ride a horse?”

You looked back up at him. “No.”

“I thought so. We brought two horses with us, two of the fastest in the stronghold, but it seems like you’ll have to ride with one of us. Is that alright?”

You nodded. “That’s fine. I just want to get back to my baby.”

“She’s a lucky lady, to have a mother like you,” Rourke said with a smile. “She’ll be happy to see you. It’ll be a nice surprise.”

“She doesn’t know I’m coming?” You asked.

Rourke shook his head, his long ears waggling. “The Count tried to make Chief Akjan believe that Miss Catherine was a legitimate daughter of his, but Chief Akjan had a feeling there was more to the story than he was told, so he had us do some investigating.” He motioned at David. “David realized the true story from listening to the manor’s gossip. After observing you and sending word back, Akjan sent me to retrieve David and see if you were willing to make the journey with us. Although…” He glanced at your face again and sighed. “Seeing how bad things are, I shouldn’t have delayed so long. I should have been here sooner. I apologize for that.” Rourke took a bowl from David and handed it to you. “Here. David’s not a great cook, but it’ll be better than twigs, certainly.”

“I cook better than you, you lout!” David said indignantly.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

Well, he hadn’t been lying: the meal was a little rough, basically just jerky boiled in water, but it was filling enough and made you feel warm inside.

“We should sleep early,” Rourke said, holding his hand out to help you stand. “We’ll be getting up before dawn to go pick up the horses and start toward the stronghold.”

“You didn’t have to put up a tent for me, I can sleep on the ground,” You told him, looking inside. It was just a bedroll on top of a riding blanket, but it looked charming and comfortable.

“Nonsense!” Rourke said. “I’d never made a lady sleep on the cold, hard ground! No, no, you get in there and get comfy, I’ll be right outside keeping watch. Get yourself some rest, Ms. Margaret. Goodnight.”

Ducking into the tent, you laid your tired body down on the bed and covered yourself, the aches in your body intensifying as you tried to relax. Once he saw that you were in the bed and down for the night, Rourke stationed himself at the mouth of the tent, his back to you, having a muted conversation with David that you couldn’t make sense of. Despite being outside of the city walls for the first time in your life and headed toward an uncertain future, seeing Rourke’s back blocking out the dangers of the world made you feel a strange sense of security. Almost immediately, you fell asleep.

They managed to make a trip that would normally take two weeks in a mere five days. They rode pretty hard for the first few days, though Margaret needed several breaks throughout the days in order to recover, since horse riding when you weren’t used to it could be quite punishing on the body. She was eternally grateful for that bruise ointment, which Rourke had gifted her.

Margaret rode with Rourke for most of the trip, since his horse was larger, but being in close proximity with men made her wildly uncomfortable. She simply had to swallow down her discomfort to make it to the end.

For Catherine, She kept telling herself. I can do it for Catherine.

They eventually arrived in a town bustling with activity. It wasn’t anywhere close to being as busy as the city, but it was more lively and less noisy. Riding straight up the middle lane, they reached a tall wall made of wooden pikes and a large gate with sentries patrolling the top.

“Here we are,” Rouke said. “Welcome to the Willowshield stronghold.”

“Catherine is inside?” You asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Rourke replied. “She’s just inside.”

Hope and expectation welled up in your chest. “She’s just inside,” You repeated softly.

Rourke chuckled a little, his breath stirring your hair. “Not long now.”

The doors of the gate opened slowly, and the interior of the stronghold revealed itself. There were cottages dotting the landscape, with two long bunkhouses to the left and right, a large building at the top of the hill, and in the very center right beyond the gates, a longhouse that seemed to serve as a town hall. The stronghold was just as bustling as the town outside, and despite being a closed community, it was far more inviting than any place you’d been yet.

“We must report in to Chief Akjan,” Rourke said as he jumped down from the horse. He reached up to help you down, and then handed off the reins of the horse to a waiting horseboy. You were surprised that orcs had horseboys. “But you’ll be able to see your little girl right after.”

You nodded and allowed Rourke to lead you into the longhouse. There, a large orc sat in the chair in the center of the room at the end of the fire trench. He wore a leather kilt, furs on his shoulders, and various leather straps. He was talking to David, who walked right up to an orc woman with a baby on her hip and gave her a long, deep kiss. You blushed.

“Chief Akjan,” Rourke said. “She’s here.”

“Ah, good,” Chief Akjan said, standing up and towering over you. Where Rourke was tall and lean as a whip, Chief Akjan was broad and massively muscled. “Are you Margaret?”

You tried to answer, but your voice came out as a squeak. Clearing your throat, you replied, “Yes, I am.”

Chief Akjan nodded. “Good. I’m glad you’re here. Catherine will be happy to see you.”

“If you’ll pardon me, Sir,” You asked him shyly. “You’re the one married to Catherine, aren’t you?”

Chief Akjan shrugged. “Yes and no,” He replied. “We have a contract, but it can be revoked at any moment. She’s under no obligation to stay with me, nor am I beholden to her. We may part ways as friends whenever we wish.”

Your head rocked back in surprise; you’d never heard of an arrangement like that before.

“Is she well?”

“Better than she was at the Count’s estate, I’d wager,” He said, snorting, but upon seeing your anxious face, he answered more seriously. “She’s just fine, ma’am. We’ve been taking good care of her, I swear to you. Shall I fetch her for you?”

“Oh, please do,” You begged. “I’m so anxious to see her.”

“I’ll return shortly, then. Wait here.”

Chief Akjan turned and exited through a side door, and you rung your hands in anticipation, resisting the urge to bounce on your heels like a child.

“Excited?” Rourke asked, smiling.

“I just want to be sure she’s alright,” You said. “I can endure anything if my child is happy.”

Rourke’s smile widened in a fond way. “You’re a good mama.”

You blushed and looked away.

“Hopefully, you won’t have to endure anything from now on,” Rourke said, pointing. “Look alive.”

“Mother!”

You spun on your heel, elated. Catherine was standing there, looking healthier and brighter than you had ever seen her, wearing simple but well-made clothing, and every ounce of anxiety in your body evaporated.

“My baby!” You exclaimed, running forward to throw your arms around her. “Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry!”

She clutched you, quietly crying into your hair. Oh, you had missed her so.

“It’s alright, Mother. Are you alright?” She asked, pulling back to look at the fading bruises on your face. They were almost gone, but the presence of them surely made Catherine feel worried. You could see it on her face.

“I’m fine, honey, I’m just fine,” You insisted. “David and Rourke have been taking good care of me.”

She released you and looked at the men you had pointed to. “They have? What do you mean? How did you get here?”

“I sent them to collect her,” Akjan said, stepping forward. “I had a feeling there was more to the story that you and the Count hadn't told me, so I sent David to do some reconnaissance. It didn’t take long for the full story to reveal itself, so I sent Rourke to retrieve her. Problem solved.”

Catherine’s face showed worry, relief, and a little bit of disappointment. “Thank you, Akjan. I will be in your debt for as long as I live. Are you going to send us to Willowridge?”

He shook his head grimly, crossing his arms. “No. We know that the Count must be aware that your mother has disappeared by now and may have guessed the stronghold’s involvement. Our intelligence suggests he’s gathering soldiers to march on Willowshield to either get his horse deal or take you and your mother back. It’ll be safer for you and your mother to stay within the walls of the stronghold.”

Catherine’s hand went to her mouth in shock. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize the Count would cause this much trouble for you.”

Akjan shrugged, as though an invasion by a noble was no cause for concern.

“We’ve been attacked for far less. Don’t worry, it won’t be an issue.” He addressed you directly. “Welcome to Willowshield, madam.”

You bowed your head and nodded shyly. “Thank you very much, Chief Akjan.”

"Rourke, have the girls show Ms. Margaret to the bunkhouse."

Rourke nodded. “This way, Ms. Margaret. Miss Catherine will join you shortly. She and the Chief need to have a heart to heart.” He began guiding you toward the back door and outside.

“Is she in trouble?” You asked fretfully, allowing yourself to be led.

“Not at all! Just some husband and wife business, that’s all. Never you worry.”

You weren’t sure about that, but you had no choice but to believe him. Rourke had been positively enthusiastic since the moment you met him, upfront and honest and the picture of gentlemanly chivalry. His open and friendly nature had gotten past your inner defenses, and you’d go so far as to consider him something of a friend. David was good natured and friendly as well, but you’d never felt as close to him as you ended up feeling to Rourke. There was just something about Rourke that wouldn’t allow you to ignore him.

Rourke led you to a communal pavilion where there were several women doing fiber arts, weaving and spinning and knitting. One of them, a tall woman in trousers, stood up and came close.

“Ms. Margaret, this is Erin, Chief Akjan’s sister-in-law,” He said. “She’ll take care of you until Miss Catherine finishes up with the chief.”

“Ah, you’re Miss Catherine’s mama!” Erin said, holding out her hand. “So good to meet you! We’ve been waiting for you.”

You took her hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Erin.”

“Oh, she’s just like Miss Catherine,” Erin said. “Shy and sweet. They’ll love you around here.”

“Hey!” Rourke said in a warning tone. Erin raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t respond. Clearing his throat, Rourke turned to you. “I have to give a debrief to the chief and report to my superior now. If you should ever need me for anything, my normal job is as a gate guard, so if you go down to the gate and ask for me, I’ll be at your disposal. Any time. Alright?”

You nodded. “Alright.”

He seemed reluctant to leave, but he started walking backwards.

“Until then.”

You smiled. “Until then.”

With a bright parting grin, he turned and trotted off, his long braid swinging back and forth.

“My goodness,” Erin said. “You and Miss Catherine certainly have a way about you, don’t you?”

You tilted your head in confusion. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

Erin shook her head and laughed. “It’s nothing. Let’s get you set up with a bunk. Things are about to get… busy soon.”

The way she phrased that made you feel a little tense, but she pulled you forward to meet the other women in the group, all of whom were welcoming and kind. Erin took you up to the bunkhouse, where you claimed two beds, one for you and one for Catherine. Erin informed you that, now that you had arrived and the Count had nothing to hold over her, Chief Akjan and Catherine no longer needed to keep up appearances and the marriage would be dissolved. Worried, you asked if that meant that she’d be kicked out, but Erin assured you that wasn’t the case.

“The chief wouldn’t do that,” Erin said. She leaned in and whispered, “Between you and me, Akjan likes her too much to send her away. My prediction is that they won’t be apart for long.”

“Oh,” You said, surprised.

Erin laughed. “Come on, she’d be done with the chief now, let’s collect her and catch up. I’m sure she’s dying to tell you everything.”

Allowing yourself to be dragged back to the pavilion, you saw Catherine standing there, looking around for you, and smiled. For the first time in your life, you felt like you were right where you were meant to be.

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x-aefx · 2 years

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Back to you - Ellie Williams

Part three /

Tags: @kyleeservopoulos

Pairing: Ellie Williams x female reader

College!au

Summary: college!ellie au. Having once been close friends, Ellie and you begin to talk again while new feelings bloom and old ones return.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You felt pretty. Wearing a little black dress with matching heels, hair down and light makeup, you bit your lip to suppress your wide smile and girlish giggle of excitement.

You never were one for parties yet you had been waiting for tonight for the majority of the week.

“We look so hot!” Dina squealed behind you. She wore a short blue dress with shoes to match. Her dark hair was in a high ponytail and she wore a small amount of makeup. Walking up behind you she wrapped her arms around your shoulders, smiling at you through the mirror.

“I want you to have fun tonight.” Dina whispered.

“Don’t worry I’m not going to start studying in the middle of the dance floor.” You joked.

Dina shook her head, “ I mean it. You’re always stressed and busy. Maybe get to know someone, I’ve seen you with Ethan Gilbert a good amount of times lately.”

“for school reasons Di!” you tried to reason.

Dina quirked a brow, “Ellie and I seen you enter a café together. Didn’t seem like education purposes to us “

You rolled your eyes. She was thinking too much into it.

“I think a relationship would be the perfect thing for you. You won’t have trouble getting someone anyway. “ Dina smiled.

“Yeah yeah, can we go now?” you didn’t want to talk about this anymore.

Dina laughed before interlocking her hand with yours, leading you out of her dorm.

You knew there would be a large crowd, Stacey was popular, but still the amount of people surprised you.

Muttering apologies as you pushed past people, Dina lead you to Jesse, your hands still interlocked with each other.

The music was loud and the smell of cheap alcohol and weed was all that filled your senses.

Greeting Jesse when you and Dina found him in the crowd you told Dina you were going to get a drink. You had been to many parties with Jesse and Dina and you knew that if you stayed you would awkwardly third wheel them.

Pushing through countless bodies that blocked your way, you finally made it to the equally crowded make shift bar. Picking up a cup of an unknown liquid you turned around only to be face to face with Ellie.

“Hey!” you shouted over the music

“Hey!” Ellie shouted back. She didn’t seem bothered about the blasting music or the strong smell of weed mixed with alcohol. She didn’t back away from the people dancing around her. To be honest she looked relaxed, comfortable even.

It was too dark to properly see her but you could make out her face. Realizing you were blocking her way to the bar you moved to the side. Ellie smiled before grabbing a plastic cup much like your own. Bringing it up to her lips, she took a mouthful whilst holding the eye contact between you and her. She didn’t wince from the sour taste or the burning feeling as the liquid travelled down her throat. You averted your eyes to the crowd.

You didn’t have to look to know Ellie moved to stand closer to you. You continued to watch the crowd. Many people already drunk or high.

You jumped from the sudden feeling of breath fanning your cheek, and a slightly raspy voice speaking into your ear.

“you look pretty tonight.”

Straightening yourself you faced Ellie.

“Thank you. Your looking good yourself Williams.”

Ellie laughed taking another sip from her cup.

A girl, clearly high, stumbled in your direction. Without thinking Ellie grabbed your waist to move you out of the way. You watched the girl clumsily reach out for a drink on the table, spilling it on herself, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Your face reddened once your realized Ellie’s hand placement. It felt more humid than before, the music started to sound like an echo from another room. You were aware of how your dress felt on your skin, the makeup you wore felt heavy as did your hair. Amongst it all, you felt your chest tightening, your heart speeding up, thousands of butterflies dancing in your stomach and you incapability of functioning a proper thought.

“finally found you. I’ve been looking everywhere for you Y/N.”

The moment you heard that voice you were brought back to the present. The music was loud and your body was somewhat calm.

“Oh, hey Williams” Ethan greeted Ellie once he spotted her beside you. Ethan stood with a charming smile, wearing jeans and a varsity jacket you had to admit he looked good. A few strands of hair fell at the front of his face and his dimples were clear to see from his wide smile.

Ellie gently squeezed your waist before letting go.

“Gilbert.” Ellie curtly replied. “how are you?”

Ellie didn’t give two shits about how he was doing.

“All good.” Ethan turned to you, “I came to ask if a pretty lady like yourself would join me on the dance floor.” Ethan outstretched his hand for you to take.

You smiled warmly. “I don’t see why not.” You laughed.

You followed him as he lead you through the jungle of dancing bodies.

As if on queue Dina and Jesse made their way over to where Ellie was standing, Jesse grabbed two cups, one for him and the other for Dina who took it gratefully.

Ellie’s eyes remained on you as she continued to drink. She watched you and Ethan smile at each other. She watched as he would bring his face closer to yours to whisper something that would make you laugh. She watched as you closed your eyes and smiled contently as you danced. She watched your body move, the way your hips swayed and your hands found themselves in your hair. She watched as you tilted your head up and her eyes strayed down to your now exposed throat. She let her eyes linger for a few moments as vulgar thoughts plagued her mind. She blamed it on the weed she smoked earlier and the alcohol she currently drank.

Ellie’s hand tightened around the cup she held, her other now curled in a tight fist by her side, her knuckles white. She looked at the boy that was making you laugh, who made you smile. Her chest tightened. Irritation eating at her.

“Earth to Ellie” Jesse waved his hand In front of her eyes.

“what?” she focused on her two friends as she forced her mind away from thoughts of you.

“are you ok Ellie?”

Ellie felt bad once she seen the concerned look on Dina’s face. She hated making her friends worry about her. Her hands loosened.

Ellie smiled apologetically at Dina. “I’m gonna head back to my dorm.”

“Since when are you the first to leave out of us?” Jesse gasped dramatically.

“I’m just tired.” She shrugged. She knew Jesse was only joking, Dina was the one she wanted to reassure.

Her eyes jumped over to your dancing form. A knowing look crossed Dina’s features.

Ellie quickly left the party after saying one last “sorry” to the couple and taking one last glance at you.

The song ended and you found yourself needing a drink. Shouting a “goodbye” at Ethan who just about heard you, you made your way back to your original spot by the bar as Ethan was pulled away by two of his friends you didn’t recognize.

Quickly grabbing a cup you stood In front of Dina and Jesse. You looked around, frowning slightly.

“Looking for someone?” Jesse questioned.

“Have you seen Ellie? She was here just a moment ago.” You asked him.

Dina bet Jesse to an answer to your question.

“She’s just after leaving. Something about being tired. But I’m worried about her. She’s been acting weird lately.” Dina frowned.

“what do you mean?”

“she’s been zoning out a lot. Not talking as much and spending more time in her dorm.” Dina explained with a look of both sadness and worry.

“oh” you felt guilty for not noticing.

“perhaps you might check in on her.” Dina suggested.

Worried about the girl you agreed to do just that.

#ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #joel and ellie #the last of us ellie #the last of us 2 #the last of us #tlou #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams imagine #ellie x reader #bella ramsey #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey x you

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klausinamarink · 9 months

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I’m Still Here, Boys

rating: T | cw: offscreen physical assault | tags: wound care, hurt/comfort, post S4, Steve lives with the Munsons, Wayne being the best uncle | wc: 654

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | Dec 26: Who did this to you?

When Wayne pulled up to his new government-paid house and saw Steve’s car on the driveway, he thought nothing of it.

But once he walked through the front door and saw two pairs of jackets with bloody sleeves lying on the floor, Wayne’s thoughts veered to the worse.

“Boys?” He called out urgently. There was a muffled thud down the hall. Wayne immediately followed the noise, leading him to a closed door to the bathroom. He threw it open just after he heard Eddie started calling, “Waitwait, Wayne-!”

He froze at the sight before him.

Steve and Eddie were both sitting in the tub, their faces a mess of cuts and bruises. Steve looked like he had a broken nose while Eddie had a strip of gauze over his left eye and cradled his right arm suspiciously close to his chest. They had also taken their shirts off so Wayne could see bright purple bruises covering their ribs and arms.

“What happened?” Wayne heard himself speaking, but it held more restraint than his own body as the embers of anger started to overwhelm him. “And don’t even say it was nothing because it sure as hell looks like none.”

The boys looked at each other, having one of their silent conversations. Finally, Steve’s gaze fell to the floor while Eddie looked at Wayne. Christ, he looked more awful with the new injuries overlapping his scars. It made Wayne clench his fist, though behind his back so his nephew wouldn’t get the wrong idea.

“We-” Eddie stopped, licked his lips with a wince (there was a cut there too, sweet Mary and Joseph-), and started again, “We got… jumped.”

“Who did this to you?” Now Wayne’s voice began to tremble. Eddie looked away with a shaky breath. “Who?”

“It- Wayne, I swear we didn’t even know them! Steve and I were just, uh, minding our own business out of town when-” Eddie clamped his mouth shut, wrestling his hands together. Even from a few feet away, Wayne saw the blood underneath.

“They knew Eddie from the news.” Steve said, sounding too quiet and distant for a young man. “They said he should’ve died in the earthquake. I got in front of Eds, told them they could go to hell or go through me.” He gave out a dry laugh and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly holding back tears. Eddie looked like he was even there anymore.

Wayne couldn’t handle just standing here anymore, so he took two large strides and threw his arms around the boys. He hugged them tight, blood be damned, though he had to be careful when they both winced in his ears. But Eddie lifted his arm around Wayne, Steve following suit a second later.

Wayne took several deep breaths before he pulled back slightly and looked at his boys, both of his hands lightly gripped behind their heads so they all held eye contact. “Listen to me. First and foremost, I am so glad as hell that you two even managed to make it home alive. Second, let me help in fixing you boys up. I don’t trust either of ya to keep your eyes open for long.”

Eddie and Steve both looked close to damn-near sobbing that Wayne hugged them a little longer.

Much later, once the boys were properly cleaned and bandaged, Wayne sent them to bed with water and Tylenol, along with a firm order for them to holler if anything happened during the night.

After a moment of contemplation, Wayne went to his own bedroom and took out his rifle. It was old and hadn't been shined in a few years, but he still had some ammo left.

He promised himself that the next time Eddie and Steve go out, he’ll tag along so just in case if those bastards show up to dare and hurt them again, Wayne will blast their faces off.

#klaus writes #steddie #wayne munson #steddieholidaydrabbles

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iandarling · 3 months

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Tag game Thursday lol

Tagged by the lovely and amazing @michellemisfit thank you 🖤

Today we’re ✨getting personal✨

Name? Katrine, but most people call me Kat

Age? 25, 1999 baby

Where in the world are you? Norway 🇳🇴

How tall are you? 1.50cm, I got my height from my grandma lol

What colour are your eyes? Green

What’s something that frightens you? Snakes is a big one, very very afraid of snakes

Do you have children? If not, do you want any? No not yet i’m just a 16 year old 25 year old girl. But I do want kids one day

Are you the eldest, middle, youngest, or only child? I’m the oldest sister of two

What time do you usually wake up? Now that i quit my job I can sleep in lol, so usually around 09:30

Relationship Status? Surprisingly I’m still single (i never leave my house and i don’t even use dating apps)

Do you identify as a member of the queer community? Yup! Acesexual and demiromantic 🖤🤍💜

Any tattoos/piercings? Just my ears, but I’m not sure I will ever get other things

Something you love? Musical theatre and Ice cream

Something you hate? Oh boy where to start the list is too long; People who always put down others in order to make themselves look better is definitely a thing I hate

Do you have any pets? Not anymore, I used to have budgies! They were my two boys and I loved them dearly

Do you have a licence? Can you drive? Haha no, I can’t even reach the pedals properly without hurting my knees. Also traffic terrifies me so I public transport

If you could tell your younger self one thing what would it be? You will get through it

And finally, something people would be surprised to know about you? Surprise?? Ehh, doubt it’s a surprise but I can recite most Dan and Phil videos from memory

Feel free to join in!!

Tagging some peeps, @em-harlsnow @iansw0rld @darlingian @mickeym4ndy @mickeysgaymom

#tag game

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lemonlyman-dotcom · 1 year

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WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @thisbuildinghasfeelings (taking it as a tag 😉) & @carlos-in-glasses ✨

From TK Strand’s Sweet 16 (times 2) (minus 2)

Last week’s preview

“Hey beautiful boy,” Carlos whispers into TK’s cheek. He’s crawled over TK, laying flush on top of him, and he’s nuzzling TK’s cheek with his nose. TK groans and burrows into the pillow. “Come on. Wake up, it’s your birthday.”

“Mmm, don’t I get to sleep in on my birthday?”

“Yeah. You do. It’s almost 9 o’clock,” Carlos laughs and pinches TK’s side before sitting up. He reaches for the tray containing a plate of pancakes and a cup of fresh coffee that he’s laid on the bench at the foot of the bed. “I made you pancakes.”

“Breakfast in bed?” TK asks. He sits up a little and points a raised eyebrow in Carlos’s direction. “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

“Whoa, dramatic much?” Carlos feigns offense. “I’ve never had a problem with breakfast in bed.”

“No food in bed, TK,” TK says in a low voice — a terrible impression of Carlos. “You’ll attract ants.”

“Okay, okay,” Carlos laughs with a hand to TK’s cheek. He places the tray across TK’s lap once he’s sitting up properly. “This is different. It’s your birthday.”

“Hmm, it’s my birthday,” TK says conspiratorially as he takes a sip of his coffee. “Thirty, that’s old. I don’t think you can call me your beautiful boy anymore.”

“Oh no, cariño, you’re always going to be my beautiful boy,” Carlos says as he leans in to place a soft kiss on TK's lips. TK wrinkles his nose, undoubtedly because he hasn’t brushed his teeth yet.

“Even when I’m 80?”

“Especially when you’re 80.”

The Huntington’s scare was almost a year ago now, but the fear it sparked in Carlos – the fear of losing TK at such a young age, of helplessly watching him slowly deteriorate – that’s still fresh in his mind. He’s going to be grateful for every birthday, every anniversary, every day they get to celebrate together.

TK, ever attune to Carlos’s subtle mood shifts and inner thoughts, reads his expression and reaches a hand out to run through Carlos’s hair. Apparently over being worried about assaulting Carlos with his morning breath, he moves his hand down to the back of his neck and, very carefully, pulls him in for a deeper kiss. “Thank you, baby, you’re very sweet.”

“So are you,” Carlos says as he leans back.

“Okay,” TK says as he lifts the tray and swings his legs around off the side of the bed. “Let’s go eat, I'm starving and this smells so good.”

“Wha-what?” Carlos sputters, utterly confused. “You’re not gonna eat your breakfast in bed, in bed?”

“Oh no, baby,” TK says as he stands up. “Eating in bed is gross.”

“Oh my god, I love you,” Carlos exclaims as he clambers out of the bed and follows TK out to the dining room.

Tagging @ambiguouspenny @basilsunrise @freneticfloetry @liminalmemories21 @rmd-writes @bonheur-cafe @chicgeekgirl89 @iboatedhere @never-blooms @ladytessa74 & @welcometololaland and open tag for anybody else who wants to share ✨

#tarlos #tk strand x carlos reyes #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #wip wednesday

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tikay21 · 4 days

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🐺How to use hashtags on tumblr to organize a story!

It was like paddling in an open sea .... Ok, it really took me 4 years to figure out the thing with the internal hashtags on Tumblr and realize that there is an advantageous sense in them initially only working within your own blog. If you don’t really need them, the benefit isn’t immediately obvious.

Plus, the display of the most commonly used hashtags leads you to assume they are more universally intended. The advantage of internal blog hashtags didn’t click for me - until the moment I actually needed them to bring order to my blog chaos and understood that you can easily sort everything with them, especially when it comes to storytelling.

I originally thought: “I'll make sideblogs for the stories, so I can have everything neatly gathered, with matching colors and background images." However, the hashtags from the main blog don’t work in the sideblogs anymore unless I link them and unless I’ve missed something again. Now I’m wondering if I even need the sideblogs anymore. Probably not. So, new plan:

I’ll post everything on my main blog

tag it with both specific and general tags

using intern unique tags for different supposes

and that’s pretty much it. At the top of a pinned post, I’ll provide an overview of what you can find under which hashtag, and they’ll automatically function as a sorter for an entire internal storyline. Done.

Btw, thanks for the right hints, which made me take a closer look, test things out, and understand how it works by answering my question on it here ...

@figure-it-out-later and @tenyrasims - which made me think about it and especially @satureja13 for the needed key to my head to unlock this blind point🥰. from @satureja13 : ... I just make sure to tag every post properly so I can add new stuff to my pinned post. You can also keep your pinned post clean by making sub posts, like I do for my chapters, for example. ... I can find every event, character, location… within seconds. That’s what I really love about tumblr.

So, what can I do now to satisfy my need for beeing over organization🙈? Technically, I could delete the sideblogs, but I can also use them in parallel, reblogging the respective content there, and thus have everything in a separate place, visually appealing with the story-appropriate colors - for my own peace of mind or for anyone who prefers to read there. But I’ll only reblog, not post the original, so following the sideblogs isn’t really necessary - though of course, you can if you prefer the color-coordinated layout there. If I ever decide it’s all too much, I can delete the sideblogs without losing my original content, as long as I only reblog from the mainblog to the sideblogs.

Is anyone still following? Probably not,😂 but I think this works for me.

Long story short: I’m going to rearrange things once more and adjust the pinned post accordingly... and bring any duplicate content back to the main blog. My old stuff from before the long break will stay here, and maybe I’ll update broken links if I ever get bored - not that I know the meaning of the word, lol. Otherwise, it’ll just stay as it is, since there’s barely anything left in my EA gallery, except for the stuff that can’t be deleted.

Ok, here we go ...

#how to organize a storyline via hastags #tikays #sims story

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thesullengrrrl · 5 months

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We'll Meet Again - Chapter 3

London called, Elaine Byrne answers...without warning.

A/N: Someone's going to make an appearance here because I love that character and I want him to be here. Hope it won't take you out of here or something. Thank you for reading and let me know what you think. AO3 link is here if you prefer reading there. On to the chapter!

Chapter 3: somehow, somewhere

Hammersmith, London

November 2026

Hal Byrne never really drove around London. He always considered this city as a walkable one, and driving is just another way to add more in his carbon footprint. However, her daughter is in his city and sure as hell he would spoil her, even if it means he would get honked at by fellow drivers.

His passengers were the loves of his life—his partner David and his only daughter, Elaine.

“Hal, you know you could go faster,” David urged him.

Hal groaned. “I’m fine, dear. Just talk to Laney.”

Elaine and David shared a look.

“I offered to drive but he wouldn’t budge. He said he wanted to drive you just like he did in New York before,” he shared.

“Dad, you only drove during the summer when we went upstate,” she revealed, smiling. “We always took the subway.”

“Laney! Not fair! I was trying to show—”

“Watch the road!” the two shrieked. Hal managed to smoothly turn the car, and the building was already on sight. There was no parking in front of the hotel, so Hal went to the nearby park where there were other cars parked. When he was properly parked, they got out of the car.

Hal opened the trunk and pulled his daughter’s suitcase.

Elaine watched David and her father tag team on locking the doors and closing the trunk. Both of them are in their 50s, and she does not miss the looks of women whenever she’s walking with them. David has worked as an art director, while her father Hal, works as a professor in Oxford.

The three of them walked towards the hotel, while David was motioning ‘stop’ to oncoming motorists. A doorman opened the door and welcomed them.

“Laney, darling, I’m going to see you on Monday, all right? Call me or David if you need anything,” Hal reminded her daughter as they stood in the lobby.

“Dad, I got both of your numbers with me,” Elaine repeated to her father, waving her phone. They had spent the first two days of her stay in a house in Norfolk where they attended a will-reading of Hal’s great uncle.

They both received a reasonable sum of money and a few books—copies of some classics and modern poetry books. The money was directly deposited on their accounts while a box of books was given to them when the reading ended. Elaine was a little touched by this act. She did not realize that across the pond, there was an old relative that thought of her despite the passing of time and distance.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with us?” David asked. “We’re happy to have you, you know.”

“I’m sure. Don’t worry about me,” Elaine assured them.

Hal hugged his daughter. “All right, darling. Your old men won’t bother you and your secret boyfriend anymore. I’ll see you on Monday. Keep safe and call me.”

Elaine laughed. “If I do, you would’ve met him by now.” If you only knew, dad. You could write about this. “I’ll be fine. Love you.”

“Love you too, Laney.”

Elaine hugged David too, saying her goodbyes.

Hal and David walked back to the exit and Elaine watched them until they crossed the street. She will always be thankful that her father found someone to love and loves him back.

She went to the reception to check herself in.

“You’re all set, Ms. Byrne. You’re in room 215,” the kind-looking woman told her while handing her the key with the hotel fob in it. “Enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” she replied.

She took her duffle bag and headed to her room.

It was spacious enough for two people, she thought.

She hung her coat at the back of the door and strode across the room to inspect it. The bed was decently sized with clean sheets and pillows, and fresh towels at the foot of the bed. The walls were sage green and white. It has a small wooden study table and chair near the window. She opened the windows and it has a good view of London. It wasn’t very high, but enough for her to have a scope of it. The wardrobe was spacious. She tried to place herself in it and was comfortable. Perfect, she thought. Next, she visited the bathroom and was pleased that it had a tub. It was also accented with green checkered tiles, which added to the charm.

Putting the towels on the nearby chair, she laid down on the bed. In a few hours, she may or may not see Rosie. She hoped for the former. It has been a long time and an apology is something she needed to say.

It was only 3 in the afternoon. Rosie told in his letter that they’ll meet at 6 in the evening in the Hammersmith Palais. Wherever that is, she’ll figure it out later. For now, she has to settle her place at the other side of time.

Wearing her coat back on and empty duffle bag, she entered the wardrobe and moments later, opened it up to find room 215 now with different interiors. The room was now cozier with printed curtains and plain cream walls. The desk was now in front of a window, and a few steps from it was a vanity and a stand lamp. A reading chair in burgundy was adjacent to her bed, which is now smaller than her present one. This is good enough, she thought.

She tiptoed until she reached the outside. Room 215 is not her room at this time, at least not yet. When a bellboy almost bumped into her, she just smiled at him and walked to the nearest elevator. She tried not to look as if she’s a woman on a mission.

The elevator pinged and as she walked to the reception, she spotted a tall figure in an olive army dress uniform, writing in the hotel’s ledger. Could it be…?

Elaine went to the nearby lobby chairs to observe who it was. She picked up a newspaper to hide her face, which she found funny but who cares. When she heard keys jangling, she lowered the paper and it was too late. She watched the backs of two tall men in olive uniforms walk beside each other and carrying duffle bags. Damn, I didn’t get to see their faces!

The elderly man beside her cleared his throat. “Miss, could I…?”

She turned to him and he motioned for the paper she was holding. Elaine gave it to him and walked towards the reception.

“Hello. I’d like to check in please,” she requested. The young man in a gray, buttoned hotel uniform smiled at him. His name tag has THOMAS written on it.

“Only for the night, ma’am?” he asked.

“No, until Sunday, please.”

“Very well, sign your name here and payment,” he instructed. Elaine did as she instructed and paid upfront.

As she wrote, she said, “A friend stayed here and she was in room 215. Lovely view, she mentioned. Can I request that same room, too?”

Elaine saw it first. The keys of the room for room 215 are on the board behind the man. She let the man check it, so as to not tempt anything.

“Well, you’re in luck, ma’am. It’s empty and now yours,” he replied as he plucked the keys from the board behind him. He slid the ledger back to his view and read where she wrote.

Handing it to her, he said, “You’re all set. Have a wonderful stay, Miss Byrne.”

“I will, Thomas. Thank you.” she grinned and went back to the elevator.

Now with a secure line from both times, she laid down on her bed for a moment. It wasn’t as soft as the one in the present, but that will do for her. A clock on the bedside table said it was fifteen minutes to four.

After a long drive from Norfolk to London, a nap is in order.

---

It was 5 in the afternoon and Elaine was done showering. Her hair demands a little bit more of time now, since she got it a tad lighter two weeks before. Bunny taught her how to take care of it, and now she’s detangling her hair, groaning. The shoulders of her navy shirt are slightly drenched as she combed. The price of looking presentable, she thought.

Fifteen minutes before six, and she was ready. The brown box coat fit snugly on her and its big pockets were enough to bring her essentials—some powder, lipstick, a hanky, and mints. Her phone was locked in the hotel’s provided safe. One more sweep of red lipstick across her lips and she was all set. She opened the wardrobe and entered inside.

---

Hammersmith Palais

November 1943

Elaine reached Hammersmith Palais at exactly 6 in the evening alone. While walking, she caught a glimpse of herself in a nearby store window. Her navy dress with slight puffed sleeves draped well on her, her heels did her legs a favor, and her hair felt a bit too formal for her liking, but she liked the contrast of her hair against the dark dress. The red lipstick was the main highlight of her outfit, she observed. I look good!

Thankfully, it is only a few blocks away and with other people walking with her, she’s safe.

In 1943, she had to show up and trust that he would show up as well.

Men and women started lining up ten minutes after she came. She started searching the lines if he was there, maybe he lined up already to save time. But he was not there.. She shifted her weight on each leg and wrapped her coat around her more as the wind breezed in the area. I should’ve written to him. Damn it, why didn’t I try to write from the future to the past?

Twenty minutes later, she decided to line up. She still continued to scan the area as the line moved. When she finally reached the doors, she took one last look at the area to see if he was there. Still no Rosie. Maybe he forgot. Made other plans.

When she entered, the lively jazz music welcomed her and the guests, signifying a start of what might be an exciting night.

There was a stage at the end of the room, a bar and tables and chairs on each side of the dancefloor. There was also another area upstairs where guests could sit, dine, and observe dancers. Couples gathered on the dancefloor, dancing, touching, some fully making out under the dim lights. The ceilings were decorated with lights and different flaglets of assorted colors.

Elaine couldn’t help but get absorbed in the excitement. This place felt like its own country, as if there was no war going on outside the walls.

As she sat at the bar and nursing a tall glass of beer, she heard the chair beside her creak. As she turned, she saw a handsome brown haired man in an olive army uniform. The US and winged pins on his lapels gleamed. His hair is tousled due to the humidity of the room making it shine too. His sparse mustache is evident, like a teenage boy’s first mustache. Why do some men not commit to an actual mustache instead of half-assing it! Be better, men!

She did not realize she was staring until he came up quite close to her face and grinned.

“Hi there,” Elaine greeted, a little off guard.

“Oh, an American!” the man observed. “That’s new. Where are you from?”

“Brooklyn,” she shared. “How about you, sir?”

“Manitowoc.”

“And where is that?”

“Wisconsin!” the man declared, a little bit too proudly. “I’m John Egan. People call me Bucky.”

She shook the man’s extended hand with a smile. “I’m Elaine. Elaine Byrne.”

Bucky motioned his hand towards the dance floor. “Wanna dance, Elaine Bird?”

“I said Byrne,” she asserted.

“Ah, I heard ‘bird’. That’s what I’m gonna call you now. Wanna dance, birdie?”

This charmed Elaine enough. “All right, John Egan.”

He finished his clear shot and paid for both of their drinks. Then he extended his hand, which she accepted and they went off to the dance floor. There was still space to move around, so they stood adjacent to each other and started moving to the beat.

She took a glance at the sidelines, checking any signs of another American uniformed officer. Nothing.

Rosie can go find me on the dance floor.

---

When three lively songs ended, thankfully, the band turned into more somber music.

Bucky smoothly slid his arm at her back, while she struggled a little to reach John because of his height. She thought he must be around over six feet. The two caught their breaths for a moment then they moved in closer, almost cheek to cheek. Elaine felt a bit feminine with this tall, broad man towering over her, swaying with her to this soft music. She avoided John’s gaze, feeling a little shy. He must have sensed this and started talking.

With his deep voice, he asked. “What brought you to England?”

“A will-reading,” Elaine answered, without thinking.

“Whose?”

“My father’s old uncle. He asked me to come with him because his partner couldn’t make it, so here I am.”

“And…what brings you to this side of town?” John questioned, this time his breath near her ear.

“I’m meeting a friend…” Elaine trailed off. “But that friend seemed to have forgotten, so here I am. Dancing with you.”

“Good thing he forgot,” John replied, winking at her.

Elaine felt the corners of her mouth pull a smile and shook her head. Bunny would’ve liked Bucky.

“Say, what brought you to England, John Egan?” she asked, deciding to match his energy.

“My job,” he answered. “I’m a pilot.”

That explains the game and air of arrogance, she thought. “Ah. That makes sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have this air of casual confidence, you know? Like you can do anything,” Elaine observed. “And you will do it even though someone tells you not to.”

John’s eyes widened by the observation.

“That’s…something. Well, I’m not God.”

“I know.”

“By the way,” she started. “Any chance you know a guy named Robert Rosenthal?”

His face turned from surprise to recognition. “Oh shit, you’re Rosie’s girl from New York?”

“What?”

John let out a half-laugh. “Few days ago, Rosie and Pappy—that’s his co-pilot—were chasing each other around the barracks because of a picture. It was a picture of him and some girl…”

She raised her eyebrow.

“Or so I’m told,” he added quickly.

Men gossip. They’re just better at hiding it.

“That’s what he’s been saying? I’m his girl?” she scoffed.

“No, he didn’t say that,” he immediately jumped in. “It’s just assumed since Rosie…he’s a pretty focused guy. He never really danced with anyone and when we saw the picture, we thought maybe you’re the reason why.”

“So you really saw the picture?”

He was about to say something when he stopped moving and his head jerked up. “Wait, I think I saw someone.”

He moved them near to the sidelines, to the tables and chairs until they were only a few meters away from a certain table that was a little crowded with women chattering. Breaking away from each other, John held her wrist and led her to the table he was spying on. A couple of excuses to the women later, it revealed a uniformed man, nursing a glass of amber liquid, hunched and seemingly defeated.

“Rosie!” John called. “You came!”

Rosie? Is it him?

Bucky pulled a chair before the man and motioned for his new lady friend to sit on. Then he followed suit. The man before them raised his head and it was actually him!

Elaine trailed her eyes on his features, now slightly worn, bulked, and a little heaviness on his shoulders. His curls are now a bit tighter (too much pomade, perhaps) and his eyes now have dark circles compared to the last time he saw him.

Rosie’s gaze remained on Bucky and slowly, he turned to her. His mouth parted, and the two did not notice until Bucky placed a finger under his chin to shut it.

“Rosie, you didn’t tell me your girl is coming!” John laughed.

“I didn’t…” Rosie trailed off.

“I wanted to surprise him, actually,” Elaine cut off, finally speaking for Rosie who was still visibly confused from everything. He only nodded and then drank the remaining liquid in his glass.

“Really? Well, boy, you really were surprised, huh?” Bucky observed. “So how’d you meet?”

He waved at a waiter, and ordered a few drinks–six shots of vodka and three glasses of scotch.

“Robert and I met on the night before he enlisted for the army,” she shared.

“Robert, huh,” Bucky observed. “In the base, he’s called Rosie.”

“He looks a little unfriendly right now, so Robert it is,” she replied, smiling weakly.

“Robert is in a bit of a sour mood, all right?” Rosie shot back, his voice cutting against the loud music of the band.

His tone startled the two for a bit. Bucky knew this man to be usually collected, but tonight it didn’t seem like it. Elaine on the other hand, just looked at him.

Rosie felt his cheeks warm up, and swirled his glass while looking at the two. “Sorry.”

The trio fell in silence. Elaine stared at Rosie, wondering whether to apologize or just go. Rosie, embarrassed by his sudden raising of voice, avoided her gaze.

Bucky suddenly felt tension in the air that could be easily sliced by a hot knife. He planned on charming Elaine tonight, and if luck is on his side, maybe sleep with her. After all, he doesn’t encounter American women outside of the base often.

However, from the scene in front of him, luck isn’t his. Instead of wallowing, he turned to the band and focused on the energetic music being played and people in the dancefloor—a complete contrast to the current situation.

Elaine started to think about the situation she is in. She’s here in 1943, surprising the guy she ghosted two years ago and now he’s somewhat agitated. What was she thinking? Who does she think she is, just popping down in miserable ol’ England, expecting the guy she ghosted will be happy to see her? Without writing to him earlier?

The band is as lively as ever and they should be, it’s still early! She noticed both men were now intentionally avoiding her. Bucky was itching to dance with the way he was moving, while Rosie was out of sync with his finger tapping. Then, he took one of the five shots of clear liquid (probably vodka) and drank it.

Her gaze shifted between the two men, waiting for someone who would talk. Until she gave up and downed two shots. It’s not called liquid courage for nothing.

She cleared her throat loud enough to catch their attention.

Bucky saw it as his cue to leave.

“Alright," he started, standing up. "I'm gonna go. I think you two have things to talk about."

Rosie and Elaine watched him make his way to the bar while greeting people around him. She glared at him, while he just looked at her, his eyes glassy. Getting uncomfortable, Elaine took Rosie’s glass and finished it.

She winced at the taste.

“That’s scotch, you know,” Rosie commented.

“I know that now,” she croaked, the scotch still burning on her throat. “Can you tell me why you’re late?”

He sighed. “I fell asleep when I got here. I didn’t realize until there was this man knocking on the door, asking for someone named Nancy.”

“And you’re not with anyone named Nancy?”

“Of course not!” he defended. “Now, were you dancing with Major Egan?”

“He’s your boss?” Elaine asked, unbelieving.

“Yes, is that hard to believe?”

She turned and saw Bucky talking happily with a blonde woman. “Honestly? Yes.”

“Were you dancing with Major Egan?”

“Why not?” Elaine challenged. “You were late and he found me. He asked me to dance, and I didn’t want to look like a sad woman in the bar.”

Rosie tsked. “I should've found you first.”

“You found me now.”

“I’m really sorry, Elaine. I set it up and I’m the late one.”

“To be fair, I didn’t write to you,” she reasoned. “But we’re here now. What are you going to do about it, Robert?”

He remembered how she used his legal name when she was convincing him to find a girl while he’s on the battlefield. Elaine smirked at him, daring him.

Rosie stood up and extended his hand. “May I have this dance, Miss Byrne?

She grinned at him and took his hand. “Yes, Mr. Rosenthal, you may.”

The band started playing In the Mood, which made the crowd howl in excitement. They joined the other couples on the dance floor, jovial and excited. Elaine watched Rosie dance with enthusiasm despite being a bit out of the beat.

She grinned at him and continued to dance.

When In the Mood ended, a slow love song played. Rosie pulled her closer, almost cheek to cheek. Elaine inhaled deeply, noting for a second that this was real.

She’s there, and he was there. Close to each other. Holding each other. They danced in silence for a while, just relishing each other’s presence after a while of not seeing each other.

“I heard you’re a pilot now,” Elaine told him, breaking the silence.

“How’d you know about that?”

"I asked around…I was waiting for quite some time, you know,” she teased, a smile obvious. Rosie groaned.

“Well, yes, I’m a pilot now,” he confirmed.

“Fancy man,” she teased. “You’re probably seducing young village maidens with your aviator glasses, promise of America…”

“No, I’m not. I don’t even wear those glasses,” he stated. “If I was, then I wouldn’t be here.”

“Charming me now, are you?”

“Is it…working?”

Elaine slapped his back and laughed.

“How about you? What have you been doing for the past few years?” Rosie asked.

“I work as an assistant now in a publishing house,” she shared. “I tried being a nurse, but they wouldn’t have me. I couldn’t do a tourniquet. One time, I vomited at the same time as the patient. We shared a vomit bowl. It was very intimate.”

Rosie blinked. “I can’t tell if you’re kidding.”

“Just the publishing part is true,” she confirmed.

He chuckled, perhaps in relief or humor. “Oh good, because I don’t think I would trust you as a nurse.”

“Right call. Even if it’s a thinly-veiled insult,” she grinned.

Rosie moved his head so that he could see her face. It still looked the same, except with her now longer and lighter hair. The thin scar below her hair line is almost invisible under the lights.

“I’m glad you made it, Elaine. Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’ll be here. Writing to you is shooting for the moon and I didn’t really expect it to reach you,” he admitted.

She nodded. “I didn’t expect I’ll hear from you, ever. But I had to come, Rosie.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to apologize for what happened. It was rude and I could’ve been more graceful. I’m sorry I left things that way.”

He smiled. “We’re even. Like you said, we found each other now. What are we going to do about it, Elaine Byrne?”

She rested her head on his chest. “This. Just this.”

At a distance, Bucky watched the two slow dance to the music. He turned to the bartender who’s name was Rick, saying, “Called it.”

“He stole your girl,” Rick commented.

“Eh,” he replied, a cigarette dangling on his lips waiting to be lit. “She’s his before we met, Rick.”

The bartender could only shake his head.

---

The two left the Palais nearing midnight. They wanted to say goodbye to Bucky but the bartender told them he exited minutes before. Elaine did not miss the meaningful look of the bartender. Fair enough, he did see me downing drinks with one guy then leave with another.

“Where are you staying?” Rosie asked.

“Brooke Green. How about you?”

“Brooke Green, too.”

Rosie offered his arm to her. She eyed him suspiciously but with humor. What’s next? Is he going to tell me he’d lasso the moon for me and make me swallow it until the beams flow out of me?

“Elaine, you’re staring.”

Her eyes widened. “Am I? Sorry. What are you doing?”

“I figured since we’re staying at the same hotel, we should walk together,” he answered, lifting his offered arm.

“That's so corny,” she commented.

He shrugged. “That’s me, I guess.”

Elaine looped her arm around his and they started walking. She looked up to him, his expression a bit more chipper and relaxed.

After a few minutes, the two reached Brooke Green.

Entering the elevator, Rosie asked which room she was staying in.

“I’m in 215,” she answered. “You?”

“217. Major Egan is in 216.”

“Right.”

When they reached her door, he stopped her from turning the knob. "Elaine."

“What?”

“I should’ve asked this earlier, but can I see you tomorrow?” Rosie invited her, his voice a little shaky.

“Yeah, sure…what time should we meet?”

“How about breakfast?” Rosie suggested.

“No can do. How about lunch?” she countered. She wanted to have some sight-seeing in present-day Hammersmith.

He thought of it for a moment. “All right, lunch it is. We can have lunch outside if you like.”

“All right, I’ll wait for you here by lunch. Just knock.”

“Okay,” he smiled. “Slip a note if you can’t make it or something.”

“I don’t think you’ll like that.”

“Yeah, I won’t. But I trust you,” he stated. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Elaine nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Rosie.”

“Good night, Elaine.”

He finally let go of the door knob and Elaine entered the room. She gave him one last look and closed the door. Leaning her head against her door, a smile formed in her face.

All the messages and calls she may have received during her night out will have to wait. The future is always there, but for now, the past is a good place to stay in—for a few more hours, at least.

#we'll meet again #we'll meet again fic #masters of the air #mota fic #masters of the air fic #rosie rosenthal x oc #rosie rosenthal #oc: elaine byrne #time travel au

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the-east-art · 3 months

Text

Ode to the Tree that Lightning Struck - Wip part.

[ Hi! Will someone please read this argument and tell me if it sounds real/makes sense?]

Seven days and they weren’t even past the Great Plains yet meant that Ness and Joey were going slow. Meandering or only covering a handful of hours a day. We’re they looking for something? Maybe reluctant to leave the last place they had been with Arakiel. A medley of reasons why the pair would be going so slow flitted through Sylvins’ head. It made the current situations uncomfortably different than what she could remember from their interactions in the past. Joey and Ness had always been focused and goal driven then. Now their only goal seemed to be to make it to New England some time before they died of old age.

oOo

Joey was pacing the room, looking out the window occasionally. A butterfly knife in her hand flipped and twirled. Butterfly knives weren’t really useful, as far as Sylvin were concerned, but they were an equivalent of a fidget cube that Joey could use that wouldn’t conflict openly with her gruff exterior. Ness was standing by the door to the bathroom, the look of concern on her face partially obscured as the gust of steam fogged up her glasses for a moment.

“Are you okay?” Ness asked, voice pitched higher than it’s baseline. It reminded Sylvin of the kind of tone you use when talking to a customer at work.

“Just washing up.” Sylvin replied smoothly, adjusting the towel around her body as tight as it would go. Joey stopped her pacing and let out a bark of laughter. A single staccato beat.

“I’m surprised the place has any hot water left.” The corner of Joeys’ face lifted in a half smirk half smile. When Sylvin didn’t return it the expression shifted. “...you know you were in there for an hour, right?”

Sylvin did not know she was in there for an hour. It felt like five minutes. Or, in retrospect, maybe an eternity.

“‘Course.” Sylvin gave a firm nod.

“Did you need something before you get dressed?” Ness asked kindly, head tilted to the side slightly, eyeing the towel-as-dress. Sylvins’ hair continued to drip onto the floor.

“I’m not wearing that.” Sylvin hitched her thumb behind her to gesture to the bathroom. Joey gave a grunt. Confusion or approval? Impossible to tell.

“You wore it for four years, it’s not good enough suddenly?” She asked skeptically and Sylvin felt her lip curl subconsciously.

“Arakiel isn’t here to keep it pretty anymore. I need new clothes.”

“Well, we don’t exactly have spare clothing for you.” Joey folded her arms and scowled. Sylvin remembered this from her time above water too - Joey’s stubbornness. Doesn’t matter - Sylvin could match it.

“I’m not wearing that dress anymore.” Sylvin said firmly. Arakiel can’t have actually worn that dress for four years - sometimes the girls would go undercover to places and in the past four years Arakiel must have tagged along. Even the angel would have needed different clothes to blend in if she was pretending to be part of a construction crew or a lawyer or something. Whatever it was the girls told folks to let them into their houses and discuss whether or not they’ve seen a ghost or werewolf or whatever. “I need clothes.”

“What, you’re gonna walk around Walmart in a towel?” Joey counters, and that corner of her lip rides up. Everything else about Joey is symmetrical, but her expressions never are - like only half of her face works properly. Sylvin stares down the stare with a stony expression - for some reason that makes Joey back down a little.

“You can borrow some of our clothes.” Ness suggests. Her snake bites glint in the shitty motel light. Ness is all angles - from her hair to her patchwork clothing to the scars that criss-cross her arms like some kind of ancient code, written in bite marks and burns and cuts. Sylvin knows better than that though - it’s all a facade. Or something like that. Sylvin would need to actually get to know her to be able to actually diagnose it.

“That isn’t gonna happen for different reasons.” Sylvin bites. An hour standing in the shower, her limbs hurting like she’s clung to a comet for the last four years, hurtling through space. Her legs have a bit of a tremor and she wants to sit down more than anything. But that might be read as an acquiesce. She can’t lose her ground. “I’m way too short and fat to fit into your stuff.”

Joey gives and huff and Ness’ eyebrows knit together.

“What do you want me to do then?” Ness says the words carefully and measured. The customer service voice doesn’t budge. It latches onto Sylvin, somewhere between her shoulders, rankles her more.

“I think even prisoners of war get clothes.” Sylvin states, and some kind of dark emotion caught between shock and anger flashes across Ness’ face. It feels a bit like triumph, like winning, when Sylvin realizes she’s getting under Ness’ skin. Joey is practically blowing steam out of her head.

“You aren’t a fucking prisoner.” Joey bites out. Boiling anger rises up under Sylvins’ skin to match it. Joey takes a deep breath, and rolls her eyes. Her hackles lower. That’s a new trick. Sylvin doesn’t like it.

“So you’re gonna let me just walk out the door?” Sylvin counters, and takes a step forward, trying to cover up the shake in her knees.

“Sylvin-”

“No.” Joey says it like the word is made out of steel. “You know why? Because you’re naked right now and won’t put on your dress.” She reaches up and scratches a hand through her hair, dislodging some from her ponytail. Joey looks tired. Has Sylvin ever seen Joey not tired? “And the only shoes you are are your flats which I assume you don’t want to wear either. You’re - you’re trying to pick a fight here.” Joey advances across the room, coming closer. As Joey approaches, Ness moves closer to her. Away from Sylvins’ side. “But I’m not gonna fucking fight.”

Joey walks right past Sylvin and into the bathroom, emerging a second later with the yellow dress in hand. Breezes through the small room to grab her keys and a bag. Ness sidles up besides her. You wouldn’t be able to tell, just looking at them, but they’re a pair. They’ve been a pair long before Arakiel came into the picture. They move with a synchronicity that can only come from years and experience. They move to one side of the room and leave Sylvin on the other.

“If you want new clothes, I’ll get you new clothes. This fits, I’ll go off of it.” Joey waves the dress, tightly fisted in one hand. “Memorize this Sylvin - I’ll get you the fucking moon if you want it. You know why? Because Ark told me to take care of you, and I’m gonna. Those were her last fucking words on Earth - thinking about you.” She’s puffing again, angry, but this isn’t the kind Sylvin wanted. “Walk out the door while we’re gone if you want, but you aren’t getting far in a towel with no shoes. And I’ll hunt you down and take care of you, because I promised it to-” Her voice breaks. It’s an awful thing. Joey jerks the door open. “Come on Ness.”

Sylvin stands, wet skin growing cold, hair dripping onto the floor. Empty.

#the east writes

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cookies-over-yonder · 9 months

Text

home

Young adult Lincoln Li-Wilson gets a call in the middle of the night from a friend he hasn't talked to in years: Taylor Swift.

ao3

please heed the warnings in the tags. thank you! <3

Link stares at his phone.

His phone with an incoming call from a friend he hasn’t properly spoken to in at least three years.

Taylor Swift.

He swipes to answer, hand shaking.

They didn’t have a falling out, just… drifted.

But to be frank, Link misses him constantly.

“Taylor?”

“Link?”

“Yeah, it’s me… uh… what’s up?”

“Can—um—can you come over?”

What.

Link hasn’t even seen Taylor since graduation.

Why would Taylor want him to come over right now?

It couldn’t be for a hook-up either—Taylor knows he’s ace.

But then he hears unsteady breathing on the other end.

“Is everything okay?”

“Um—I—”

Link hears a sob. His stomach drops.

“No. I—I need help… I didn’t know who to call. Sorry—I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay, Taylor, just breathe.”

He doesn’t follow that instruction, because Link hears more sobs and gasps.

“Okay. Listen to me, Taylor. Text me your address. I’ll be there soon.”

“Mmkay… my back door is unlocked.”

“That seems unsafe.”

“I know. Anyway I—I’m in the… the bathroom. You’ll see it when you walk in.”

“Okay, I’m coming, just keep breathing.”

“I’m trying.”

Link gets Taylor’s address and drives over right away.

The backdoor is unlocked, and Link locks it once he’s inside.

This place is big .

It’s a condo on the bottom floor of the building, and it looks expensive .

Link isn’t surprised.

He finds the bathroom easily, and knocks before turning the knob and opening the door.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out, laying eyes on Taylor, curled up sobbing next to a shit ton of pill bottles scattered across the floor. “Taylor, did you take something?” he asks, kneeling down in front of Taylor and brushing his much longer hair away from his face to get a look in his eyes.

He shakes his head quickly. “No, no, no, I didn’t, I called you instead,” he says between gasps. “I—I—I can’t breathe—”

“Taylor, Taylor, hey ,” Link cups his face with his hands and looks him in the eyes, “it’s gonna be alright, I promise. You’re sure you didn’t take anything?”

He nods, sobbing again.

“I’m gonna pick you up and take you to the couch, okay?”

He nods again.

Link scoops him up just as easily as he did way back when. In fact, Taylor seems slightly lighter than before.

He kicks some clothes out of the way and sets Taylor down on the couch, sitting across from him.

“Sorry I— fuck —I know we haven’t talked in years I just—I haven’t been as close with anyone since you,” Taylor says, wiping his tears and trying to steady his breathing.

Link grabs hold of Taylor’s hand, interlocking their fingers and squeezing. “Taylor, what happened?”

He can’t help but cry himself asking it.

“I—I just, I kept feeling like there was no point anymore. And—and I couldn’t shake it. I’m all alone, and I don’t know why I did this to myself. I miss Mom, I miss you, I miss everyone, and I—I just…” he pauses to catch his breath, and fails but barrels on, “I’m so fucked up in the head, Link. I keep having nightmares about sophomore year. I dropped out of college because I wouldn’t stop having panic attacks during class. I—I wanted it all to be over. I still do. I still do . That’s why I—I needed you.”

Link doesn’t know what to say.

Holding back a sob, he hugs Taylor as tight as he can, thankful he’s still here and alive .

“I miss my mommy ,” Taylor sobs into Link’s shoulder. “I miss her. I miss her. I miss her so much.”

“She still live at your old address?”

Taylor nods.

“Come on,” Link says, getting up.

“Where are we going?”

“My car. I’m taking you home.”

Taylor nods with a wobbly, “Thank you.”

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worldsfromhoney · 1 year

Text

I’ve been so much on the fence about this that i think i consulted three servers i’m in and had a very reasonable breakdown during an intense convo with one of my best friends.

BEHOLD this is the result of my externalised inner struggle

🥁🥁🥁🥁 *drumroll* 🥁🥁🥁🥁

WiP intro: Imposter Syndrome

A What Shouldn’t Have Been Written short story.

Ok ima face it: idk what to do here so i’ll just wing it and i hope it’s enough 😵‍💫

Status

Will finish the first draft by 10/06

Posting date: 10/09

WiP tags

#wip: imposter syndrome

#wip: wshbw

#oc: del bonnaire

#oc: jo bonnaire

#oc: conn

#oc: mrs. bonnaire

What it on

A horror short story where society has found a way to let people change their skin—literally. And Del Bonnaire has had his eye on a particular one for years. With a dying mother and a grieving dad, what can stop him?

Genres/Themes

horror/thriller

suspense

sci-fi

family

morality and ethics

NOTE: there’s a hella more tags and warnings but they’re available on Inkitt and Wattpad so please look before you read!

Characters

Those who matter anyway ✌️But! They all show up! They all matter!

Del Bonnaire

A daddy’s boy is what Del puts in every social profile he has. And that’s exactly what he is. Recently graduated from university and turned 22 years old. He’s delayed his coming-of-age ‘changing’ for 7 years and has batted away the legal notices. An inch taller than his rugby player of a father, with a lean form (genetics, darling, he’ll say), and rare green-hued eyes—he’s a catch for the skin centre. But there’s a reason he’s delayed and the time has finally come.

Jo Bonnaire

Del’s father and [redacted]. Despite being a sports boy throughout his entire life, barring from going professional, he doesn’t like being put to the spotlight. A devoted husband who attends to his wife’s every want and need, even to the point of predicting it. Very sticky though, as his rugby lads would comment. Recently turned 40 as he got Del early in life. Comes from old money and works as a behind-the-scenes philanthropist. He seems normal enough… right?

Mrs. Bonnaire

Del’s mother and [redacted], and Jo’s wife and [redacted]. She’s a pretty isolated person and neighbours gossip it’s because she got sickly after her first husband’s death. An utter miracle that someone like Jo had taken her in, they’ll also say. No one’s seen much of her family than her father who was seen rowing with Jo one night and never came back. Past schoolmates say she was very different in the past—a political activist against the ‘skin change movement’. Where’s that woman now?

Conn

Del’s childhood best friend. He and his aunt are the Bonnaire’s closest neighbours. Rather than him keeping Del, it’s more of the way around with how others see him always being comforted and apologising after a fight. Like a puppy whining after a particularly slick kitten, the other kids say. Handsome enough in his own right—brunette, grey eyes, dimple—but overshadowed by Del’s dark, tall, and handsome vibe. He doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind much of what Del does anymore.

Dr. Katz

The doctor assigned to Mrs. Bonnaire’s case. One of the most renowned doctors in the hospital and the only one willing to take on the case. Not because of its queerness or impossibility but because of the two Bonnaires who stand guard day and night. You’re just imagining it, the charmed nurses reassure her, but she isn’t buying it. In the end, she’s right not to.

Snippet

NOTE: the snippet here is from the first draft which is crap so you will be reading crap 🥰

I think I give him an answer but it gets lost as a muffled mumble in his shirt. I’m not ready to let go. There’s a beating heart and a chest that rises and falls properly with no help so near that I don’t want to let go.

…and that’s all for now!

#writeblr #wip intro #wip: imposter syndrome #oc: del bonnaire #oc: jo bonnaire #oc: mrs. bonnaire #oc: conn #horror #scifi #short story

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rubyreduji · 1 year

Text

eat your young | the games pt 3

tags: hunger games!au, fake dating, angst warnings: death, violence, blood, gore, probably inaccurate medical stuff (its fiction shut up) wc: 4.4k an: you are legally obligated to NOT be mad at me

m.list

That’s two more gone. Ten remain. Half of them are careers. You stare at the fire blankly.

You don’t want to be on this island anymore. You don’t want to think about how Wonwoo died less than thirty feet away, but you know on this island you can get fresh water and a good supply of food, so you don’t dare move the boys.

“Y/N-ah.” Jihoon’s voice is soft as he approaches you. He sits down next to you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. You slightly melt into his arms, enjoying the safety of his arms locked around you, just for a moment.

“I’m okay Ji, I just need a minute.”

“I know, I know. I just wanted to tell you that Hansol and I are going to sleep soon. Please don’t stay up all night. Wake one of us up to take watch, okay?”

You nod. “Let Hansol-ah into the sleeping bag tonight, okay?”

“Okay. Don’t forget to put the fire out soon.” Jihoon presses a kiss to your forehead. It’s the first time either of you have shown any physical affection other than hand holding or cuddling at night. The feeling lingers there even after Jihoon gets up.

You huff. That’s another problem that you don’t want to worry about. The stupid crush you have on your fake boyfriend. You think you may have had a crush on him even before either of you were reaped, but now it’s real. It’s not just a passing crush on the idea of someone. No, now he’s here and real and holding your hand and kissing your forehead and making your heart go crazy.

You don’t think it’s healthy to feel this many emotions at once. Being in the Hunger Games is not for the faint of heart, you will say that.

You grieve for Wonwoo. He was your friend and your ally and he saved your life. By morning though, you will be back to good and ready to assess the next problem that arises. You have to be if you want to keep Jihoon and Hansol safe. You have to push all personal emotions aside so you can think properly and just get through the next challenge.

It’s late when you put the fire out. It’s way past the nightly recap. You didn’t bother watching tonight. You sit in the silent dark and stare at the moon. It’s not real, just another thing made by the Gamemakers, but it still brings you some comfort.

You think about your family. You hope your sister is sleeping right now. You hope your father isn’t worrying too much about you. Joshua is probably up right now. He’s always been a night owl.

“Hey Shua,” you whisper into the night. You use your old nickname for him. The one you gave him when you two were in elementary school. You’ve graduated to calling him ‘Josh’, especially in public, but every once in a while you’ll revert back to the old nickname. It helps remind you both of your past together and how far you have come.

You’re not sure if he’s going to be watching. He was never someone who would watch intently. Neither were you, but you kept more tabs on things than he did. Maybe he’s watching just because it’s you. Maybe he’s not watching for that exact reason.

“I miss you. I miss you a lot. You know after thirteen years of friendship you’d think we’d be tired of each other, yet it’s only been a week away from you and it’s like I’m going crazy. It’s hard not having you here. It’s like a part of me is missing. Well, not like. A part of me is missing. You.

“Remember when you used to accompany me during work and you’d complain about it the whole time while I chopped down tree after tree, but you stayed because it meant we could spend more time together? I wish we could go back to doing that. Jihoon and Hansol are good company, but they’re not you. I’ll love you forever, my Shua-yah.”

You’re pretty sure the Capitol isn’t going to air your little speech. You don’t care though. It makes you feel better being able to talk to Joshua in some way.

The rest of the night you wonder what District 7 has been up to. When the sunrises you look over and smile softly at the sight of Jihoon and Hansol in the sleeping bag. They’re adorable smushed together with their sleeping faces.

You stand up and all of your bones crack from sitting in the same place the whole night. You stretch your body out and grab the bag. You find the tap and put it in a tree before collecting water for the day.

You hear rustling coming from behind you and soon arms are wrapping around your waist, a sleepy face pressed to your back. “You didn’t sleep last night.”

“I’ll sleep later, after Sol wakes up.” You lean back into Jihoon’s embrace. “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyways.”

“Remember, you have to take care of yourself too.”

Jihoon’s words make your mind flash back to your final conversation with Soonyoung.

Promise me one more thing? Take care of yourself as well, yeah? I know your new focus is on Jihoon, but you’re important too.

You know that if you don’t care for yourself, you won’t be much help to Jihoon either. It doesn’t matter if you actually take care of yourself to take care of yourself, it won’t matter in the end. You need to be at your best for Jihoon though.

You turn around so you can face him. His hair is a mess and you reach up to fix it. “Let’s go to the shore today. I wanna wash in the water.”

Jihoon nods, though you have a feeling he’s only half listening. You lean down and kiss his forehead, as payment for the one he gave you last night. As you and Jihoon are in your own little world, you can hear Hansol starting to wake up as well.

Jihoon squeezes you once more. “Go sleep. We’ll go to the shore later.”

You nod. With a yawn you climb into the sleeping bag, and let sleep overtake you.

When you wake up, it’s way past noon. The sun shines bright in your eyes and you crawl out of the sleeping bag. Hansol and Jihoon are both lounging about and both perk up when they see you’re awake.

You three walk down to the shore where you get into the water. You clean your body off from all of the dirt and grime and blood from the last few days. The salt water still doesn’t leave you feel completely clean, but it’s something.

Hansol and Jihoon do the same and you’re all feeling slightly better afterwards. You stand on the sand, waiting for them to finish up. You glance over at the island in the middle of everything. You can see the glint of the metal Cornucopia in the distance. The place where all the careers reside.

“Y/N-ah,” Jihoon pulls you from your thoughts. “Ready to go back?”

“Yeah.” You pull your eyes away from the Cornucopia and grab Jihoon’s hand.

Another canon goes off later that evening. You guys are sitting around the fire, eating roasted nuts that Hansol found. The sound of the cannon doesn’t make you jump anymore, but it still caches your attention.

There are only two other non-career tributes out there. You wonder if it was one of them. You don’t have to wonder for too long because the nightly recap starts. When you look up at the sky you’re not expecting to see a career.

The picture of the District 4 boy you attacked on the very first day sits high in the sky. Hyunwoo? Something like that. You wonder if his leg injury got to him, or something else did. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is there are now only four careers left.

The night is peaceful. The next morning is as well.

You find a hunk of wood and grab a knife. You’re not sure who’s knife it is anymore, but it doesn’t really matter. You’re glad one of your hobbies can be done with even the simplest tools you have available to you.

The Capitol citizens have to be finding this funny right now. People are dying and you’re sitting here carving wood.

“Hey, that’s my song,” Jihoon says. Your concentration is broken and you look up at him.

“What?”

“You were humming,” Jihoon explains.

“Oh, sorry. Force of habit.” Whenever you’re working you end up humming a song. You don’t know many songs though, so you always go back to the same two or three you’ve heard Jihoon singing.

“Don’t apologize, I like hearing it.” Jihoon looks a bit shy and you think it’s adorable.

“You two are gross,” Hansol says, breaking the moment. “It was better when Wonwoo was here, so I had something to focus on that wasn’t you two.”

You laugh lightly. “Sorry Sollie, we’ll tone it down.”

You don’t want to tone it down though. You want to keep it going. You want to do more and have more and be more.

The rest of the afternoon is quiet. Then evening comes.

While everyone is sitting around, you sit up from where you’re leaning against one of the trees. There’s a rustling of leaves and in an instant you’re up on your feet. There’s a flash of something and suddenly you’re pulling both Jihoon and Hansol up, pushing them ahead of you.

“Mutts!” You yell out and start to take off at a full running pace. You glance behind you and quickly look away. It looks to be a mutation between a rhino and a large feline. It has the horn and build of a rhino, but the coat, teeth, and paws of a jungle cat. There’s only one, but it’s large and fast and you’re doing your best just to get through the thick foliage of the jungle.

The only thing that makes you feel even a sliver better about this situation is that you can clearly see Jihoon and Hansol in front of you. As long as you’re between them and the mutt, everything will be okay.

You’re a bit too focused on the boys though, because you trip. You land with a hard thud on the ground and you can barely even think before the mutt’s on you. You let out a scream as it tears sinks it’s claws into your arm.

It doesn’t let up and you’re sure you’re going to die. You feel something digging into your side and you remember your axe is on your belt. You struggle to detach it from your belt. As you do so, the mutt moves and grabs right onto your leg with it’s teeth. You’re sure if it wasn’t for the sheer panicked state of adrenaline you’re in right now you’d be dead.

With a cry you lift your axe and slam the blade down into the skull of the mutt. The mutt’s teeth loosen up on you and falls dead. Your arms fall limp as well and you do your best to remember to breathe.

Your ears are ringing and you can hear the faint sounds of Hansol and Jihoon but your vision is starting to go and you’re scared. You’re so, so scared.

Jihoon can’t breathe. There’s a lump in his throat and a stab in his heart and you’re going to die and Jihoon can’t breathe.

He sinks down next to you and cradles your head in his lap. There’s fear in your eyes and that scares Jihoon the most, because he doesn’t think he’s seen you scared a day in his life.

“J-Ji,” you call out to him.

“Shhh, shh, I’m here. Hi, baby, I’m here.”

A tear rolls down your eyes and Jihoon quickly moves to brush it away. He doesn’t feel too far away from crying himself. There’s so much blood. So much blood and your leg doesn’t even look like a leg anymore and you’re breathing is slowing and you’re gasping for air.

“Ji, Ji,” you sob, tear freely falling now, “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die anymore. Please Jihoon.” Your fingers dig into Jihoon’s arm, pleading for his help in some way.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay, it’s okay, you’re not going to die. I- you’re fine. We’re gonna be fine.” Jihoon tries to keep the panic out of his voice as he comforts you, but he knows he’s failing. “I- Soonyoung please help.”

Jihoon cups your face with his hands, and brushes his thumb over your cheek, hoping to calm you some. Jihoon leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. The taste of salt and dirt linger on his lips.

Ding.

A parachute falls down next to Hansol. He quickly picks it up and opens it. Inside is a plethora of medical supplies and Hansol quickly gets to work. Death may work quick, but Kwon Soonyoung works quicker.

“My mom’s a medic,” Hansol explains quickly as he feeds you a couple pills. “I don’t know as much as she does, but I can do this.” His hands are shaking, but Jihoon doesn’t have a doubt in his mind that he can save you.

Hansol takes a piece of cloth and ties it around your thigh and uses a stick to twist until it’s tight. Jihoon’s never seen a medical procedure like it before but he assumes it’s to cut off blood so you don’t lose even more than you already have.

He then moves on to your arm. He takes some of your water reserves and cleans off your arm before grabbing the needle and thread that was already in your first aid kit grabbed from the Cornucopia. His fingers are still a bit shaky as is his breath as he stabs into your arm the first time. It seems like he’s also trying to keep himself from crying, the only thing stopping him is having to stitch you up. It’s clearly a novice job, but Hansol eventually patches up your whole arm.

Despite your arm being taken care of, your leg is still mangled. Jihoon can’t look at it for too long or he’ll actually throw up. He can see a bit of bone though and it’s all meaty and bloody and slightly bent out of shape.

Even Hansol looks disgusted as he looks down at it. Inside the container that Soonyoung sent is some ointment, but Jihoon isn’t sure how much that can help when you have a literal chunk of your leg gone. Still Hansol rubs it onto your skin where he can and then wraps and splints your leg.

You’ve calmed down and your breathing is soft, but steady, and Jihoon thinks it has to do with the medicine Hansol fed you at the start. Jihoon has been petting your hair the whole time, watching Hansol meticulously. There’s a tight feeling in his chest and it doesn’t go away until your body shifts just the slightest bit.

You weakly reach out for Hansol and he helps you by grabbing your hand in his. “Th-thank you.”

Jihoon’s thankful for Hansol and Soonyoung as well, but he also knows that if you don’t real help soon, you won’t make it much longer. The suffocating fear that you’re going to die creeps up Jihoon’s throat and he does his best to swallow is back down.

From that start, it was clear you were going to die. You were going to lay down your life to say Jihoon’s. It was something he had to come to terms with. Now that he’s faced with the reality of it though, he can’t accept it. Not yet. He’s not ready to let you go yet. He needs more time.

So maybe he likes you. Maybe he’s always been a little interested in you. The strong, reliable woodsman from District 7. Now you two are here together and he has you but he’s about to lose you and he can’t handle it.

Hansol gets up and leaves to go back for the supplies. Jihoon’s took shaken to do anything other than pet your hair. Hansol comes back soon and Jihoon finally gets up.

Together they make a shelter. They tie the tarp to a couple trees like a lean-to and put branches and leaves over it so it’s more hidden.

Your face isn’t in the sky when night falls though, and that’s all that matters right now.

The night is long and Jihoon doesn’t sleep a wink. He can’t, too busy monitoring you. When morning comes Jihoon finally gets a good look at you in full light. Your skin looks dull and sickly and Hansol’s stitching on your arm looks even worse in the broad daylight.

Jihoon takes a peek down at your leg. It’s still all bandaged up and Jihoon can’t even imagine the monstrosities that lay under the coverings. Jihoon can only hope that more medicine will be sent soon.

You’re sleeping right now and Jihoon keeps a hold on your hand, but only so he can keep his fingers pressed to your pulse. It’s slow and faint, but it’s there.

Soonyoung sent the group a good portion size of soup and Jihoon must think the sponsors feel bad for them. Jihoon doesn’t really care, as long as it helps you stay alive.

The next few days are slow. Other killings happen, but to other tributes, and Jihoon doesn’t really care as long as it’s not you. None of it’s okay, this whole situation is fucked up, but deep down Jihoon knows that every canon that fires gets you and him closer to winning. To surviving.

You spent most of your time sleeping. Jihoon doesn’t care though, because it seems little by little your strength is coming back. Especially with the extra healing cream Soonyoung sent. It came with a note to Jihoon to keep it up and Jihoon thinks it relates to the fake dating act they’re putting on.

Jihoon’s cried multiple times since you got attacked and he spends all of his time coddling you. Soonyoung must think Jihoon is putting on an act for the camera and the Capitol is eating it up, but little does Soonyoung know that Jihoon is genuine in everything he does. Every forehead kiss, every hand squeeze, every sweet word, he means it.

The cream is doing its job though and you’re slowly starting to recover. Your arm has healed nicely and you’re able to stand and even walk a little bit, but your leg is still messed up and it bothers you if you use it too long. Capitol technology is a wonder, but it’s still not perfect. But you’re alive, and that’s all that matters right now.

It’s down to seven tributes. You think about how that means there’s going to be family interviews. Your dad and your sister and Joshua. You miss Joshua. You’re glad the leg that got fucked up isn’t the one that has your bracelet on it because you’d honestly be more upset about the bracelet than your leg.

You’ve been dying lately though. Jihoon keeps coddling you, and it’s not that you don’t like it, but you so desperately hate being a sitting duck. You made Hansol find you a large stick that you’ve carved into a walking stick for you.

You force yourself to get up and walk every once and while. It’s been four days since you got attacked and you’ve been doing nothing for too long. Another island has sunk since then and two tributes have died, one being the other District 1 girl. Nayeon, maybe? That means it’s just three careers, your group of three, and one more tribute left.

The three careers left are the ones you like the least. Seungcheol and Jeonghan from District 2, and Mingyu from District 4. Not only do they have disgusting personalities, but they also pose a large threat to your group, especially now that you’re injured. If you don’t get your leg back in working shape soon, your whole group is in a lot of danger.

It’s the next day when you realize that you’re just about out of food. Your leg has been screaming at you since you woke up and even with the painkillers Hansol keeps feeding you, your leg is still killing you.

“We need stuff,” you groan.

“We’ll go get it, you rest,” Jihoon tells you.

“No,” you protest. “My leg is so stiff, I need to move it. Please. It’ll be okay.”

“No. Remember, you need to take care of yourself. I’m not kidding this time Y/N. Hansol and I will be back soon with food. If I found out you’ve moved from this spot, I’m not going to be a happy boyfriend.” Jihoon’s commanding voice and the use of the word boyfriend has you shutting up.

Jihoon drops a kiss on your forehead before he and Hansol head out in different directions. Just a week ago you were roaming these woods with Jihoon and killing a hog together. Wonwoo was still with you guys and he and Hansol were out finding you guys nuts and fruits. So much has changed since then.

You sigh and reach for the bag. You can luckily grab it without much effort and you grab your piece of wood and your knife out of the bag. If you can’t do anything, the least you can do is go back to your carving.

The sun is starting to move and you’re wondering where the boys are when you hear a blood curdling scream. It sounded like Hansol.

“Sol?” You call out experimentally. No response. He didn’t sound that far away. Dread starts to fill you. Something isn’t right. “Sol?” You struggle to your feet and look around frantically. Where is he?

"Y/N! Y/N!" The voice is panicked and high pitched and it makes your older sibling mode kick into gear. As quickly as you can, you start to race through the trees. Pain shoots up your leg, but you keep going. You’re not sure where you’re going but you need to find him.

"Sol-ah? Hansol!”

You nearly miss it. Nearly miss him while running, but a glint catches your eye and you sprint over. Lying on the ground is Hansol’s body, blood soaks his jumpsuit and his eyes are barely staying open. The glint you caught was his knife, still in his hand. His leg is tangled up in some jungle vines.

“Y/N?” Hansol reaches his hand up and you drop to your knees and grab onto his hand and pull it to your chest.

“What happened? Who did this?”

“The District 2 boy. I got caught in the vines. He found me and I tried to fight him off with the knife but he overpowered me.” His voice is soft, and his breathing is unsteady, his words taking a while to come out.

“I can save you. Like you saved me. I can fix this, just-”

Hansol clutches your hand tighter. “No Y/N, you can’t. You can’t save us all, it’s okay. Jihoon should win.”

You can’t save him. Hansol is going to die and you couldn’t protect him. You grab your axe and start to cut the vines away from his leg. When he’s finally free, you scoop him up and start to walk towards the edge of the island. Your leg is screaming at you, begging you to stop, but you can’t pay attention to it. You can’t when you have to focus on Hansol.

You set Hansol down on the sand and cradle his head in your lap. You don’t care if it’s fake, if it’s just made by the Gamemakers, Hansol deserves to have this. The sky is a myriad of colors over the ocean and you pet Hansol’s hair, trying not to drop tears on him.

It isn’t fair.

“It’s okay Y/N.” Hansol’s hands reach up to grab your face. He uses his last bit of strength to pull you face down to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me.” He pats around his jacket pocket before pressing something into your hand.

You press your hands over Hansol’s as his eyes go blank and his arms go limp. You close his eyes and hold his body tight to yours. A cannon goes off. You don’t move until you hear a hovercraft coming to take Hansol. You gently lay his body down and back away as he’s lifted into the air. Your own outfit is now dirty with his blood and your leg is now even worse than earlier, but you don’t care.

You look down at your hand and sitting in your palm are two matching bracelets. Faded, worn leather braided together. District tokens. You clutch them close to your chest. One belonged to Hansol, the other to Chan, his district partner.

“Y/N? Hansol? I heard yelling.” Jihoon pushes through the trees but stops when he sees you on the sand. “Y/N…?”

“He- he- I didn’t even know they were on the island. I don’t know where they came from or where they went but I couldn’t save him and now he’s-,” you can’t continue, your words getting caught in your throat. You wonder if the pain in your chest will be enough to kill you.

“Oh, oh. Oh no.” Jihoon quickly moves to you, sinking down to his knees as well. You bury your face in his chest and sob. Jihoon cries too. Soft, silent tears, his chest taking shaky breaths every once in a while.

You cry and you cry and you cry until it’s it dark out and then you eventually just…stop crying. You’re too dehydrated and your head hurts and you know that crying won’t do anything. It won’t bring Hansol back, and at it sure as well won’t help you avenge his death.

Jihoon helps you back to the shelter and you basically fall to the ground as soon as you get back. Pain is overtaking your whole body and as soon as you hit the ground your eyes white out and the world goes black. Your last thought before you pass out is that there’s only six people left now, and District 2 is going to get it.

taglist: @hotricewoozi @embrace-themagic @066hc @biromogeulworld @cinnamoroxie @hoeforcheol @milkyruins @famouspoetrydinosaur @bigtittycommitte @parkchaeyoungsbish @wooahao8 @wongyu-reads @anothershorthuman @belladaises @candidupped @justwonus-recs @im-gemmy @bumbleboxwrites

join the eat your young taglist: here!

#woozi #lee jihoon #woozi fanfic #woozi series #woozi angst #woozi x gn reader #seventeen #seventeen series #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #svt woozi #woozi x reader #gn reader #kpop #kpop fanfic #rru.fics #rru.eyy #★ sfw #rru.writes

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miraakulous-cloud-district · 10 months

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It is Wednesday, my dudes

Lots of thanks to @sheirukitriesfandom for tagging me in a wip whenever. I finally, actually have something to share! And on a wednesday! And I get the chance to see what everyone else has been writing! It's a good day, indeed <3 The following excerpt is from chapter 16 of WYGTYA and I must say, I'm pretty proud of this one, really. Have some Miraak lore!

I'm going to tag @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @mareenavee @dirty-bosmer @nerevar-quote-and-star @blossom-adventures @kiir-do-faal-rahhe of course, only if you want to, and tagging anyone else who wants to participate and share!

It’s a strange sight, indeed: his old suit. He hasn’t seen, nor touched it since he came back from Apocrypha, and right now, he wants nothing more than to burn it. When Ravonna guided him to the basement - basically a small storage room - and he saw that suit again, he almost didn’t recognize it, and it made him sick to his stomach either way.

“It didn’t always look like that, you know?” Fenrik says, trying to defend it for some reason or other. This suit has been with him through his hardest of times, after all, and much like his spirit, it didn't break. Not yet.

“I suppose it’s the Apocrypha corruption. You know, you looked almost like a lurker with the suit and with your mask.”

“Did I? I guess my mask was corrupted as well.”

“Yeah, it had all these tentacles coming out of the mouth area. ‘Twas gross and ugly.” Ravonna shudders. “No offence.”

“None taken.” He says, raising his eyebrows but still holding that thousand yard stare at the robes in the chest.

“For what’s worth, I don’t think you look like a lurker anymore.” Ravonna shifts uncomfortably on her feet.

“Thank you.” he feels a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It’s hard, seeing hervdeliver all her lines in such a cold manner. She’s been… absent, yet still there. So unmistakingly, genuinely there, right beside him.

“What did it look like? Before, I mean.”

“It was just a brass mask with no expression. Plain as a cloudless sky. That was its purpose, too. To numb any and all emotion in me. I was too emotional, they said.” He winces at the memories that come flooding in.

“Oh… I’m sorry. Didn't mean to bring back all those memories.”

“You have nothing to apologise about. It was you who actually took it off, remember?”

The sound she makes is somewhere between a snort and a huff. “More like shouted it off. You made me so angry that I let out my most strongest shout yet.”

“Glad to be… of service? I guess.”

“I was properly shocked when you turned and looked back at me, that’s for sure.”

“Why?” He asks, genuinely not understanding. He’s a person, just like her. Whatever else did she expect?

‘Because of your beauty, because of your humanity, your desperation, your sadness, your fucking soft, brown eyes’ She wants to say, but refrains herself. Instead, she says: “Because you looked so intimidating with the mask on. Without it, you were so… normal. Approachable, even, were the circumstances different and my memory completely wiped.”

#tag game #wygtya #oc: ravonna #miraak #oc: fenrik

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shatterthefragments · 3 months

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🌻

SO I sorta play/am relearning to play the flute and (tenor sax),

Treble clef to read: my beloved. Not quite as used to the bass clef but I *can* given enough time

And I have a midi keyboard that I may have mistaken for being able to ALSO be a keyboard oops but at least it was super cheap when I got it 😅 and I have *access* to a trumpet if I so wanted bc the sister played in middle school (cost of buying the cheapest instrument < the cost of renting even just for three years in middle school)

And I’ve always had an obsession with the cello and wanted to play SO hopefully I’ll be able to make space for and save enough money to buy one used and though I HIGHLY doubt it would be in time (especially given I’d probably need to road trip to get it) …or if one of the music stores has an absolutely ridiculous sale… that’s also an option 👀

Buuut given I can’t really remember how to hold a bow properly and tbh was Not very good at it anyway (but hey I only had one free 30 minute lesson that was SUPPOSED to be for the flute to develop skills further in concert band) I’d need actual lessons and probably couldn’t jsut learn on YouTube but the near city has adult basic cello classes!!

But given that maybe bass or guitar would be better first?? But I don’t know if my fingers can reach across the fretboard?? I couldn’t really when I played guitar in my hotel suite I got upgraded to (…I should. Post to my personal social media at some point bc they probably upgraded me bc I’m young and they figured I would) but it’s still super fun!!

Or like. I know I can finger the ukulele bc I played in third grade but it broke so I can’t anymore but back then it was maaaaybe $40 and I fear it would be twice that (ah yeah they are. Also I don’t remember how to play at all) (and ukulele basses are even more expensive)

Buuut I also need to brush up on my theory and tbh bc I play wind, I have no idea about Chord theory or progrsssions. So maybe learning in a keyboard (which are fairly cheap in marketplace but I just. Have a Lot of mini trips coming up… so I should not by any means. Especially if I also want to get more tattoos in the fall) also I kinda want an alto sax too since fingerings translate

So I can’t really decide what to do next (“get good at your current instruments shatters!!”) also I lost the tenor sax mouthpiece after I washed it so I could hopefully start playing again but in sure it’s kicking around in the kitchen somewhere (tbh I’ll need to wash it again if it is though)

Also considered drums bc Ekits are quieter however I have no space (my sax is currently in the sis’ room 😭) and then booked a trip instead :P

And like?? I need to figure out which daw (preferably free) I can use to record stuff~

Ah I should probably get a mic at some point but I’m hoping my phone or earbuds will do the job for me tbh haha

Wanting to maybe fiddle around with a few covers (prev just Kingdom of Cards but gosh there are SO MANY GOOD SONGS less that I am capable of singing - fuck knows I can’t actually sing the way they do and my range is Limited but 🤷🏻 if I’m having a good time it’s all good hey)

And then eventually make one of my songs (which. Let’s be honest. Many old lyric papers I recycled now. And I still can’t get in to so many of my locked notes in the notes app so I have to most likely come up with something new or newish but that’s ok what else are emotions for but vent poetry amiright??

Also the ads for nocturnal bass are wearing me down but it’s too expensive when I have no clue what I’m doing yet. I have a bunch of free sounds loops and resources already… as long as I can Actually access them on a portable drive bc my laptop has no space and I need to delete so much off it already tbh

And I know it’s not a tag game but friendly tags for my fellow musicians to ramble on about music/instruments if they want to: @eepymonstrr @ongreenergrasses @hookedhobbies @caffeinatedbraincell @elkkiel (bc drums 👀) @branches-in-a-flood (unless it’s too long ago now and doesn’t bring you joy to talk about) and anyone else who wants to ! GOODNIGHT!!!

#asks #shatters plays music again #shatters’ fragments #text #shatters rambles #long post #I am so tired I almost fell asleep while typing this post tbh 😰#but I have so much fun rambling about tjisssss #ok night nihh gh t #ask game #ask games

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 2 years

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The Girl He Left Behind [Part Nine]

Fandom: American Actor, RPF, Elvis Presley, Elvis Movie 2022

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Gladys Presley, Vernon Presley, Minnie May ‘Dodger’ Presley, Red West, Sonny West, Gene Smith, Billy Smith, Original Female Characters, Colonel Tom Parker, Billy Smith, Marci Cunningham, Steve Cunningham, Jerry Schilling, Mary Jenkins, Alan Fortas, Marty Lacker, Original Male Characters, Mona Goodwin, Joe Goodwin

Word Count: 4732 // Rating: Mature

Summary: When Elvis returns home to Graceland from the Army he’s followed by the headlines ‘The Girl He Left Behind’ but what the media don’t know is that Priscilla wasn’t the first. No, that title belongs to someone Elvis will never forget.

Tags/ Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Graceland, Poverty, Friends to Lovers, 1950s Elvis, Bad Parenting, Surprise Surprise the Colonel Is a Colossal Prick, Parental Loss, Grief, Fun Fairs, Kissing, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Movie Nights, Arguing, Tension, Denial of Feelings, Age Gap Romance, Underage, Addison is 17 Elvis is 22, Guilt, Betrayal, Extortion, Blackmail, Jealous, Army Elvis, American Draft, US Army, Lying, Time Shift with Elvis moving to Memphis, Flashbacks, Caught. Addison’s Dress [the one Marilyn’s wearing]

Notes: I had to look up how much his tickets were and THREE FUCKIN FIFTY. stg i nearly wept real tears

LINK TO ALL PARTS // AO3 LINK // PINTEREST LINK

TAGS - @girlblogger2002 @sania562

Twelve days. Twelve whole days. Mona had been back in their lives for only twelve days and Elvis was already at the end of his tether. It didn’t help that through most of the time she had been back he’d been busy recording or in meetings which meant he couldn’t keep an eye on their little ‘sessions’ of getting reacquainted. From what she had told him Addison seemed to be taking them well though he figured she might be sugar-coating it a little given she knew his feelings for her mother. Vernon and Gladys had also taken a back seat to proceedings as they appeared to be letting her make her own decisions, much to his annoyance. Every day seemed to be the same - Addison would go to school and come home insisting on doing her chores around the house before her mother would collect her and they would head out to do something together. Every evening Elvis would feel a sinking disappointment as she disappeared out the door without a second glance. He was also a little upset that she was now driving independently with her new learner’s permit under her mother’s guidance in one of his old cars.

He was in his office, going over a couple of movie scripts the Colonel had brought over earlier for him to peruse when Addison appeared at the door. He smiled and sat up properly in his chair but she didn’t move into the room, instead, she remained leaning against the door jamb watching him nervously.

‘Everything alright?’ he said. Addison nodded. Elvis chuckled, ‘what did you ruin one of my shirts again interfering with Mary’s laundry?’ ‘Hey I was trying to help,’ Addison smiled coming in to sit in the chair opposite him. ‘Yeah that’s why I had to buy a completely new one,’ he smirked. ‘Well you could do your own laundry,’ she quipped. ‘I don’t think I’d even know how to anymore,’ he smiled, shuffling the papers on his desk until the scripts were covered back over and in a neat pile. When he was done he interlaced his fingers and leant towards her and said, ‘so what is it?’ ‘What’s what?’ she asked innocently. ‘Whatever it is you came to tell me but are too frightened to,’ he said. ‘I’m not frightened of you,’ she scoffed but Elvis merely raised an eyebrow, ‘okay, okay, maybe I was a little, let’s say, nervous to ask.’ ‘What is it?’ he said suddenly intrigued. ‘Um, well,’ she said biting her lip, ‘I’m going out with my mom tonight she wants to go to Beale Street.’ ‘Aren’t you a little young to be going to Beale Street?’ he asked. ‘How old were you when you started knockin’ around there?’ she said making Elvis’s retort stop dead in its tracks. He supposed she had a point. ‘So what’s the problem?’ he said. ‘Well she wants to go to Club Handy,’ Addison said nervously. ‘And what, you want me to make a call?’ he asked. ‘Actually, she wants you to come with,’ Addison said. Elvis was shocked but recovered quickly. ‘Oh, uh, sure,’ he said, ‘I mean it’s pretty quiet on a Thursday night so we should be okay as long as you promise you ain’t gonna be falling asleep at your school desk tomorrow.’ ‘Don’t worry about me Grandpa,’ Addison said with a cheeky smile, ‘I’m young remember.’

And with that, she stood up and headed out of the room. Elvis sat back and sighed. He supposed her teasing him was only fair, he had brought up her age first, but he didn’t like the reminder that they were so different in age. He also wondered why Mona wanted him to join them. He was glad, after all he didn’t trust Mona and having Addison hanging with her on Beale Street at night did make him uneasy so he supposed it was better for him to be there. Still, he couldn’t help but feel there was something off.

Putting that uneasy feeling aside he finished up in the office and headed downstairs to join his family for dinner where he was surprised to find Addison didn’t make an appearance. When he had asked after her Mary had informed him she’d made her a sandwich to eat in her room. Once dinner was over and his parents announced their plans to watch TV with Dodger for the night Elvis informed them they’d be going out and headed upstairs to change. It took him a while to decide on what to wear. He didn’t know why as he had been to Club Handy a thousand times before and he knew the vibe it had. Nevertheless, as he picked out his black slacks, red shirt and a bomber jacket and spritzed a little cologne he felt a little nervous. Like he was getting ready for a date.

As he came down the stairs the was a knock at the door and he opened it to find Mona standing there. She looked pretty though Elvis couldn’t deny a little cheap. She smiled at him and he moved out of her way so she could come and stand in the foyer.

‘Are you ready?’ Mona said tucking her purse under her arm. ‘Addie’s just getting changed,’ he said. They stood there for a moment, in awkward silence, before Mona said, ‘I hear Club Handy is quite the place to be these days.’ ‘Yeah,’ Elvis said, ‘it’s a cool scene.’ ‘I bet. I’m glad us Goodwin girls have an expert to show us around Beale Street tonight,’ she said. Elvis intended to make a snide remark but he was forced to stop as Addison came in from the kitchen. She looked stunning. Her hair was tied up neatly, secured with a small scarf, and she was wearing a dress that whilst cute left little to the imagination. Elvis noted the way it clung to her body as if designed for her alone. He couldn’t speak, his throat suddenly too dry to form a sentence, though he didn’t need to as Mona spoke before he could.

‘I told you that was the one didn’t I?’ she said gesturing for Addison to spin around. She did, though awkwardly, a blush across her cheeks. ‘It’s just a dress,’ Addison said. ‘A beautiful one, right Elvis?’ Mona asked. Both sets of hazel eyes landed on him. ‘Stunning,’ he said before he turned quickly and grabbed his keys so they could head out. He opted to take the caddy making sure Mona was in the back and Addison was beside him as they headed towards downtown. It wasn’t too busy as they pulled into Beale Street but there were definitely enough people around to signal the weekend was coming. He parked and hopped out of the car, opening the door for Addison and then her mother so they could both climb out. Fortunately, they were admitted into the club without even a second glance which Elvis thanked his lucky stars for as he didn’t quite feel like arguing with the doorman with Addison being underage. The club was busy but they managed to find a booth in the back with a good view of the stage.

‘What do you want to drink?’ he asked as Addison slipped into one side of the booth and her mother did the same on the opposite side. ‘Soda’s fine,’ she said. ‘Oh come on Addie,’ her mother said rolling her eyes, ‘live a little.’ ‘She doesn’t have to drink if she doesn’t want to,’ Elvis said defensively. ‘I know but she doesn’t have to not either. She’s already inside she can have a drink if she wants,’ Mona said. Elvis’ jaw tightened but he didn’t say anything and instead just looked at Addison who seemed put on the spot. ‘Um, whatever you’re having,’ she said talking to Elvis. ‘Two Old Fashions it is,’ Mona said with a smile. Elvis nodded curtly and headed to the bar to order. As he walked away Addison watched him go. He looked handsome tonight though his outfit was a lot more toned down than normal, making her feel all the more out of place. If anything she was dressed like her mother which made her feel even worse. Mona didn’t waste a minute of him being gone before she spoke.

‘You look good tonight,’ she said. ‘Thanks,’ Addison said. ‘Elvis too,’ she continued, ‘don’t you think?’ ‘Yeah, I guess,’ Addison said feeling her cheeks heating up as she looked away towards the stage which was currently being set up for a performance. ‘The pair of you even match a little,’ she said, ‘his shirt, your headband…’ ‘Just a coincidence,’ Addison said dropping her gaze to where she was flipping a beer mat in between her fingers. ‘Almost like you’re a couple,’ Mona said watching Addison’s face closely, ‘you’d make a cute couple you know.’ ‘Mom,’ Addison groaned. ‘What are you trying to tell me you don’t like him even a little?’ she said raising her eyebrow. Addison glared at her mother but she didn’t seem to care as she continued, ‘oh come on Addie, you won’t melt if you admit he looks handsome.’ ‘I didn’t say he didn’t look handsome,’ Addison said snappily. Mona placed her hands up in surrender. Before Mona could tease her anymore Elvis reappeared placing three drinks on the table. He placed a glass in front of Addison and shuffled into the seat beside her.

‘Go on Addie,’ Mona said nodding at Addison as she took a swig of her own drink. Addison glanced at Elvis who was watching her with a somewhat stony silence before she took a small sip of her drink. It burned the back of her throat and she winced at the taste of orange something she detested. ‘What do you think?’ Mona said eagerly. Looking at her excited face Addison suddenly felt a wave of irritation bubbling inside her. Not only about the teasing she had been doing but also at the fact her mother couldn’t even remember something as basic as her not liking oranges. ‘It’s awful,’ she said making her mother’s face fall and Elvis smirk. ‘Oh I’m sure you’ll like it take another sip,’ Mona said recovering quickly from her dismay. ‘I’m good, you have it,’ Addison said pushing her drink forward towards her mom. ‘That’s why I asked the bartender to wait a minute and bring us over some more sodas,’ Elvis chuckled. Mona forced a cold smile at him which made his grin grow even larger not that Addison seemed to notice the cool demeanour between the pair as she said, ‘life saver.’ ‘And don’t worry, nothing with orange in it,’ he said throwing his arm behind her on the top of the booth as he looked at Mona and added, ‘she hates that.’

They chatted idly for a while after that, their conversation mostly filling time before the performers took to the stage. Once the band was in swing the club started to fill but it was mostly regulars which meant that they were largely undisturbed as most of them were acclimatised to having Elvis around. Eventually, there were enough people in the club to get a good dance floor going, something Mona insisted they both take part in much to their chagrin. Well, the pair of them probably wouldn’t have minded dancing in the club just not with Mona in tow. As the performers announced they were taking a short recess Elvis spied his chance to break from the floor and leant down to shout into Addison’s ear.

‘Want another drink?’ he asked, Addison slowed her moves and nodded clasping onto his jacket sleeve as he led her towards the bar. They didn’t make it all the way though as Mona appeared and forced her way in between them, slinging her arms around them both as she said, ‘not ditching your ol’ Mama are ya?’ ‘We were just getting another drink,’ Elvis said. ‘Ooh, make mine a double,’ she said fishing into her purse for a couple of bills as she said, ‘here Addie you get them in, my shout.’ ‘I can get them,’ Elvis said. ‘I know,’ Mona said rolling her eyes in a way not dissimilar to her daughter, ‘but you’ve bought them all night long. Besides, like any bartender’s going to turn her away in that outfit.’

And before either of them could protest she pushed Addison towards the bar and directed Elvis back towards their booth. He was glaring at her as they sat down making her roll her eyes once more, ‘oh come on stretch you’ll not crumble if the pair of you are apart for two minutes.’ ‘She’s underage in a club and you’re making her buy drinks,’ he said ignoring her little jibe. ‘Like I said that bartender isn’t going to be focused on what she’s ordering,’ Mona chuckled. ‘Maybe you should be a little more worried about what he is focusing on,’ Elvis said. ‘What like you, you mean?’ Mona said raising her eyebrow, Elvis scowled but said nothing, ‘don’t think I haven’t noticed the pair of you together. All lovey-dovey like you’re the only people in the room.’ ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Elvis said trying to ignore the happy little flutter inside him at the possibility she might reciprocate his feelings. ‘Sure you don’t,’ Mona said, ‘hey I don’t mind. She could do a lot worse.’ ‘Yeah she could have a track record like yours,’ Elvis said. ‘Ouch,’ Mona said cockily as she rested back against the booth folding her arms across her chest, ‘look I get it, you don’t like me yadda, yadda, yadda but this whole you hating my guts thing is getting pretty boring.’ ‘Well you know the solution,’ Elvis said, ‘you’ve done it enough times.’ ‘What? Leave? When I know my being here’s driving you crazy? Not a chance,’ she scoffed, ‘and anyway, Addie likes having me here.’ ‘Yeah ‘cause she thinks you can change,’ he said leaning forward. ‘What and you don’t think I can?’ Mona said earning nothing but a cold stare from the man across the booth, ‘oh that’s right I forgot you know everything about my daughter’s life, right? I’m just the wicked witch and you’re her knight in shining armour. Tell me this though, does she know why you care so much? Huh? Why you’ve taken an interest in lil ol’ Addie? I mean she’s coming back now how about we ask her?’

Mona turned to look towards the bar where Addison was near finishing up and raised her hand to flag her down but as she went to call her daughter’s name Elvis’ hand grabbed onto her arm pulling it down with fury flaming in his eyes. Mona smirked, ‘thought not.’ ‘Look Addie is my friend. Whatever ideas you’ve gotten in your screwed-up head are just that. Ideas,’ Elvis said. ‘If that’s the line you wanna spin have at it,’ Mona said, ‘you’re just friends, whatever.’ ‘That’s the truth,’ Elvis said. It was, technically. Regardless of how he felt they were still just friends. ‘Sure, I mean I’m sure she’ll be crushed but I’ll take her mind off of it. I mean we can start this weekend I’m sure there are lots of eligible teenagers in Nashville,’ she said. Elvis leaned forward and said, ‘what are you talking about?’ ‘This weekend,’ Mona said a self-satisfied look dawning on her as she said, ‘oh Addie didn’t tell you? We’re spending the weekend together. In Nashville. Just us girls.’ ‘But-’ Elvis said though he was cut off as Addison appeared at the table and placed three drinks down on it. ‘That took forever,’ she said going to shuffle into the booth only to find him looking at her irritably. His jaw was set and his eyes near black with anger which made a pit form in her stomach, ‘what’s going on?’ ‘Why don’t you tell me?’ he said, ‘or better yet call me when you get to Nashville and tell me.’ ‘You told him?’ Addison said turning to her mother whose smug face had turned to one of concern. ‘I thought you had,’ she said, ‘you know what I’m like, me and my big mouth.’ ‘Look I was gonna tell you,’ she said shuffling into the booth and watching him with pleading eyes. He stared at the table, fidgeting with a beer mat, so the anger bubbling away inside him didn’t spill out on Addison rather than her mother. ‘When?’ he said looking at her, ‘when you got across state?’ ‘She was going to tell you,’ Mona said receiving a glare from both of them, though Elvis’ was more severe. He could tell she was loving this and though he didn’t want to give her any more satisfaction he couldn’t remove the scowl from his face and pretend he was okay.

‘Mom, why don’t you go and dance?’ Addison said. ‘But-’ ‘Mom,’ Addison said pointedly. Mona sighed and grabbed her purse off the table. When she was definitely out of earshot Addison shuffled around so she was facing Elvis her big hazel eyes watching anxiously as he looked at her.

‘I was going to tell you. I just didn’t know how. Honestly, I don’t even know how I agreed to go,’ she said with a small chuckle which made Elvis’ jaw unclench a tad, ‘we were just talking about how I was missing school because of the shows and she started going on about how we should spend the weekend together. Telling me how perfect it was because I was already excused out of school and that I’d not be stuck hanging around whilst you’re busy workin’ or whatever.’ ‘You wouldn’t be stuck hangin’ around,’ Elvis protested. ‘Maybe…maybe not. I mean you’ve gotta work. Can’t exactly be hanging with me when you have to be on stage. I don’t know,’ she said getting quiet for a moment before she added, ‘she just has this way of talking people into stuff. It sorta made me realise how my dad could take her back so many times.’ ‘That’s what worries me,’ Elvis said watching her with concern. Addison chewed on her lip for a moment, ‘you think this trip is asking for trouble?’ ‘I think anything involving your mother is asking for trouble,’ he sighed catching Addison’s unsure gaze which made him concede a little. Maybe this was a good thing. Maybe she didn’t need to be told time and time again her mother was bad news. Maybe seeing it first hand on this trip would prove it, ‘but I have to work and I s’pose hanging around with my folks and Dodger isn’t as exciting as a weekend in Nashville so if you wanted to go I guess I’d be okay with it.’ ‘Are you sure? I mean I know you were excited about this weekend,’ she said biting her lip. Elvis nodded. Addison wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her to him, her fruity perfume filling his nostrils for a moment before she pulled back. ‘Thank you for understanding,’ she said. ‘Nah I get it,’ he said waving her off, ‘I mean this was the first time you were gonna see me perform so I can’t say I’m thrilled you’re gonna miss it but she’s your mom and you’re trying.’ ‘Are you trying to make me feel guilty?’ Addison giggled. ‘Oh for sure,’ he smirked, ‘I mean you’re gonna miss a hell of a show.’ ‘Eh, I’ve had the VIP experience,’ she shrugged. ‘Oh yeah what’s that?’ he asked. ‘I’ve heard you singing in the shower,’ she giggled. Elvis’s smirk deepened as did the fire inside him as he thought about her listening to him showering which quickly flashed into the pair of them showering. He pushed the thought away as fast as he could. ‘Well in that case you owe me $3.50,’ he chuckled. ‘It wasn’t that great, in fact, I was gonna demand a refund,’ she quipped. Elvis went to respond but stopped as Mona reappeared at the table slipping into the booth opposite them.

‘You two kissed and made up?’ she said with a knowing smile that brought bile back into his throat. ‘There was nothing to make up about,’ Addison said, ‘apart from you and your big mouth.’ ‘You know me, sweetheart. I don’t do things by half measures,’ she said. ‘Well anyway,’ Addison said, ‘we talked it over and it’s fixed.’ ‘So you’re coming with me?’ Mona said. ‘I must be mad but yeah,’ Addison said. ‘Excellent,’ Mona smiled, ‘I’m sure we’ll have a great time. So much to catch up on.’

Addison didn’t seem to catch her meaning as she started talking about things she wanted to do in Nashville but Elvis was only half listening to her. His eyes remained fixed on Mona who leaned back against the booth and took a swig of her drink, smirking at him throughout. Doubt settled inside him as he watched her. He had agreed to this thinking that it would scupper Mona. Now he was worried about the nonsense she’d fill her daughter’s head with given the chance. Or worse that she’d out his true feelings and Addison would see him for the lovesick puppy he was.

They didn’t stay long after that. The band had not finished playing but the mood had certainly shifted, enough for the three of them to decide it was time to leave. As Elvis drove home he mulled over Mona’s words analysing and scrutinising them as much as he could. It had worried him at first. Especially given the fact she had teased him about how he felt, but more than that he hadn’t failed to notice how she had made it seem reciprocated. His mind played her words back to him over and over, ‘All lovey-dovey like you’re the only people in the room,’ like if he did it enough it would be true. He kept glancing over at her. She wasn’t looking at him as she was staring out the window, her yawns becoming more frequent as tiredness crept in. He yearned to know what was going on in that head of hers. He wanted to know if she was feeling like he was. He hoped she was, but he didn’t trust Mona. He didn’t trust that her words might just be lies to get him to make a fool of himself. He didn’t trust that she wasn’t working some sort of angle.

In fact, he was immensely relieved to get rid of her not even bothering to say goodbye as he pulled up outside the apartment block across the way from Graceland. As she disappeared into the building headed towards the apartment he had on permanent rent and was letting her stay in Addison seemed to come to life. As they drove back around to the house she spoke, the silence from earlier long forgotten.

‘I had a nice night tonight,’ she said. ‘Yeah me too,’ Elvis said. It wasn’t technically a lie considering the only downside to his night was the fact her mother was there. His night with her had been nice. ‘That woman’s voice was amazing, what’s her name,’ she said tapping her fingers together as if it would jog her memory. ‘Big Mama Thornton?’ Elvis said. Addison nodded, ‘yeah she’s great. Got a good ear for new talent too.’ ‘Maybe I’ll sing for her then,’ Addison giggled. They were pulling into Graceland now which meant Elvis didn’t have to pay much attention to where he was going and looked towards her puzzled. ‘You got something you wanna tell me?’ he chuckled. ‘Hey, you aren’t the only person around here that can sing,’ she grinned. ‘Is that right?’ ‘Are you forgetting the amount of shows I made you put on with me?’ she chuckled. ‘Oh yeah,’ he said recalling the endless amount of hours she’d have him learning a new song on his guitar just so she could sing to her dad, ‘if anything I was your backing band.’ ‘As it should be,’ she giggled. Elvis had stopped the car now and cut the engine though neither of them seemed to be in any rush to jump out and head inside. ‘See, and I was just going to offer to introduce you next time,’ he said, ‘but now I can see that’s only asking for trouble.’ ‘If I promise not to usurp your career will you please introduce me?’ Addison mused. Elvis paused to pretend to think scratching his chin and pursing his lips a little before Addison swiped at his hand knocking it off his face, ‘sweeten the deal Goodwin and maybe.’ ‘Okay how about next time we go I promise my mom won’t be invited,’ she grinned. ‘Deal,’ Elvis chuckled, ‘I mean don’t get me wrong I enjoyed myself but I don’t really understand why she asked me.’ ‘Actually, it wasn’t her idea,’ Addison said making Elvis look at her, ‘I wanted you to come.’ ‘Why didn’t you just ask?’ he said puzzled. ‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged, ‘I guess when she suggested we go to Beale Street I thought of you. I mean you’ve told me about the club and everything… I guess I just wanted my first time to be with you.’ ‘She didn’t mind?’ Elvis said trying to ignore the fact his heart was swelling a little at the fact she’d wanted him there. That he was on her mind even when they weren’t together. ‘I didn’t give her chance to,’ Addison said honestly continuing as he looked puzzled, ‘I sorta made it seem like your folks wouldn’t let me go…that way she couldn’t disagree.’ ‘And then you told me she’d invited me my, my, Miss Goodwin what a tangled web you weave,’ he chuckled. ‘It got me what I wanted didn’t it?’ she smirked as she unlocked the door and climbed out of the car with Elvis following her quickly.

‘You know,’ Elvis said as they walked inside, ‘with ruthlessness like that you’d go far in Hollywood.’ ‘You think? If only I knew someone with any clout there,’ she jibed. Elvis clutched his heart. ‘You really are just full of zingers tonight aren’t ya,’ he said. They were inside now, outside her bedroom, each of them resting against the door jamb as they looked at one another. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t be such an easy target,’ she said with a smirk leaning up a little. He could smell that fruity perfume once again and he mistakenly glanced down, reminding himself once more of how sultry she looked in that dress. She was looking at him awaiting a response her eyes wide and expectant as a ghost of a smirk still played out on her lips. He wanted to kiss her. More than he ever had before, spurred on by Mona’s words in his head. He swallowed thickly and pulled back missing the flicker of dejection in Addison’s eyes as he walked a few feet away.

‘Target practice is over,’ he joked though there wasn’t as much bant in it as normal, ‘I should let you get to bed.’ ‘Yeah, oh, I forgot to ask. I sort of need to borrow a car,’ she said hurrying to explain as he looked at her confused, ‘for Nashville. I mean I’ll take good care of it and I promise I won’t let my mom drive-’ ‘Sure, whatever,’ he nodded, ‘how about we sort this out in the morning?’ ‘Okay,’ Addison said quietly, ‘night then.’ ‘Yeah night,’ he said quickly and before she was inside her room he was out of sight practically sprinting upstairs to his room. He couldn’t think straight. Every time he tried to string a coherent thought together his mind went back to the way she looked at him just moments ago. He stripped out of his clothes and hopped in the shower, turning it to freezing as he tried to calm himself down. It didn’t work though. And soon enough the thought of her in front of him in that dress and the thought of her listening to him in the shower like she’d mentioned melded into one. And every inappropriate thought he’d ever had about his best friend came crashing to the front of his mind spurring him on until he was overrun with pleasure that soon washed down the drain.

#my writing #the girl he left behind #elvis presley #Elvis #Elvis Movie #elvis fic #Elvis Presley Fic #elvis presley smut

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