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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 10 months

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You're waiting for a train...(4)

Painted Windmills

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Eames and Y/n embark on their intel operation and Eames only has one rule for Y/n; do not be seen.

word count - 2.4k

warnings - hospitals, blood (so minor tho), sadness

a/n - finally we have them meeting!!! Also I know some people may disagree with Eames' reactions in this but remember he is thinking about how this job is important for Cobb and Y/n.

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Eames led me in with his hand on my back in faux professionalism but with genuine care. We had dressed up all nice and proper for our first day. The thick black dress hugged my curves in a way I was not used to, and revealed my legs way more than I could stand. It felt constricting compared with the jeans (which I’d had for years) and baggy shirts I usually wore on jobs. I fixed my newly acquired fake glasses and my disguise was complete.

We walked up the stone steps to the house that loomed like my private gallows. Why was I so nervous? Eames was right next to me, and this was hardly the first intel operation I’d done with him.

I wobbled about in my precarious heels and my ankles practically gave out when I reached the fourth step. My embarrassment was saved by Eames’ quick grasp of my elbow, righting me lest I draw attention to our entrance.

Our fancy dress shoes clinked in synchronisation and stopped to face each other before we breached the fateful doors. One last debrief.

“What are we here to do?” Eames prepped me.

“Gather as much information about the father-son relationship and see what we can use to our advantage. And you’re going to be studying Browning to mimic his movement, mannerisms, and speech.” I completed with pride.

“Very good baby Cobb.”

“Hey! I vetoed that nickname!”

“The most important thing is don’t be seen.” I raised my eyebrow at his ridiculous request. “You know what I mean, don’t draw attention to yourself. And whatever you do, don’t talk to Fischer.”

I laughed at how serious he looked holding my gaze. I tried to leave to go in, thinking the conversation was done. But I was held in place by his hand on my arm.

“Don’t talk to Robert.” He tilted his head, and I felt the meaning of his words. He’d seen me with the picture. I shucked his hand off my arm and left abruptly.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I seethed.

He met the quick pace I had formed so he didn’t see the distress I felt at his distrust. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust me, he thought he needed to manage me. Take care of me. Like I was a child.

We both arrived at the top of a dark oak staircase that exuded the feel of wealth and prosperity. The house was so quiet that my heels were like a gunshot in a library. I began to tilt my head up to look at the expanse of the house in wonder. It seemed it had more shadows than glimmers of light. The house choked on its own emptiness.

“Mr and Mrs Trent?” A perky blonde approached us as we walked around the first floor aimlessly.

I panicked at her assumption. “No, no, no, no. We are not a couple—not even--. Miss James.” I shoved out my hand hoping she and I would both forget my stuttering. Great first impression.

She reluctantly met my hand. “Okay, I see well if you both come this way, we can get you started. There is quite a lot to do due to Mr Fischer’s declining health. You will both be responsible for sorting through the different files; making sure, if an account is prepared, it is filed away, and if it’s not, it is highlighted to be looked at.” Eames’ and I’s mouths ached from the smiles we were forcing towards Little Miss Big Boobs.

But we both righted our faces to make it seem like we were focused on the 'challenging' task rather than admitting this kind of work was trivial compared to our own jobs. We placed our bags down, took the exaggerated lapel badges handed to us, and began to quickly complete our task. We had previously discussed that we would complete the task first, not wanting to have hindered the Fischer empire any more than we were already going to, then go about our snooping.

I opened my first file, quickly read it, then assigned it it’s place. I’d always had a mind that worked faster than most. Arthur used to joke that my projections run rather than walk. This meant general schoolwork had seemed mundane to me when I was a child. Kids can be cruel to the kid who always finishes first. No one likes a show off.

After I had read my 10th file in less than 5 minutes, I noticed Eames was gesturing and mouthing something towards me.

‘SLOW DOWN’ Ah I forgot. Don’t draw attention to yourself.

My job here wasn’t exactly defined, by Fischer or Eames.

Eames trailed Browning like a shadow, subtly mimicking every move in a sort of dress rehearsal. I tracked him with my gaze, in awe at his skill. Partially because his skill was slick enough to pass between everyone’s tired eyes.

All at once, a commotion began around my section. Some balshy intern had decided to push Browning for an answer on question he didn’t want to hear. He went on to sarcastically suggest that the intern should bring the question to Maurice himself. He strutted away and drove open the large double doors that blanketed the room. When the oak parted I found myself moving away from my corner to peek into the scene revealed.

Maurice Fischer lay on his hospital bed surrounded by equipment which stood in contrast to the dark interior that sat around them. Browning walked through and instead of approaching Fischer senior; he made his way to the window where a man stood. His back was to me, but his figure was distinguished. My feet edged me forward a little more.

“Argghh” Maurice flailed out his arms. In his frenzy, he had knocked down a picture from his bedside. The man turned at the noise and it was there I saw the face I had longed to see. Robert Fischer.

He moved to pick up the picture with a sort of meekness. And as he looked up to his father there was a sense of shame there. As if he was once again the height of a young boy. He rose, broken picture scarring his hand. I see Browning and Fischer exchange words. I inch forward more so that my frame centres in the doorway. Suddenly…

“Mr Browning, I have some—” CRASH.

The balshy intern from before slams into my shoulder and knocks me onto the floor. Papers fly everywhere and I audibly wince when my knees come in contact with the hardwood floor. Shit.

I compose myself, trying not to consider how obvious I just made myself. As I slide my pages back together, 2 more hands join my own. I stop in my tracks, registering the person before me. I reluctantly look up and fall into a pool of blue.

“Are you okay?” I sharply intake.

He studies my face as I fail to speak. When I see him poised for an answer, my brain snaps back.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Robert’s pov*

“I put it there.” My finger drags down the cracked memory. “He didn’t even notice.”

My thoughts are overtaken when a loud crash reverberates throughout the room. My head snaps up, annoyed at the offending noise, but when I look up, I am overcome. I see a girl on the floor struggling to clean up her mess. I rush to her aid, glaring at the man who had knocked her down. As I passed him, I gently stated,

“You’re fired.” He goes to argue but retreats back into the office.

I kneel in front of her rushed attempt at clearing up and chuckle at how she had just seemed to make more mess in her haste.

“Are you okay?” She met my eyes and my breath caught as I fully took her in. She was beautiful.

Minute long seconds passed of us just gazing. I could have stayed there a lifetime if she let me.

“Yes, I am fine. I am so sorry about the mess; I’ll clean it up and I’d understand if you want me to leave.” I stopped her rambling by clasping her hand in mine. I then picked strands of her hair to place behind her ears to reveal more of the face she was trying to hide. Her spew of words was like music to me and what interested me even more were her little laughs between thoughts, as if apologetic for what she said.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

My sputtering was pathetic, but I was rendered speechless when he held my hand. I quickly retracted the offending limb to push up my glasses as if they could save me now. My thoughts were equally filled with his words but also my warnings. I had to leave and tell Eames the mistake I’d made so we could rectify it.

Together we had collected the papers into a transportable pile, and I stood up. But I braved it too quickly and found myself stumbling in my heels once again. Robert hadn’t let go of me even as I stood up, making sure I was okay. My leg which had gone numb from my position on the floor gave out and pushed me into Robert’s awaiting arms.

I let myself sink further into the perfect feeling of being in his warmth. He felt like a warm beach in the afternoon sun. But I quickly remembered my place. I jumped back in fright.

“You’re bleeding!” Robert exclaimed. As I stumbled back, he had noticed drops of blood adorning my newly scraped knee.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” I tried to placate his worry as I began to make my way to the exit.

“No, come, I’ll clean it up.” He grasped my hand and led me through his father’s room despite my protests.

“Mr Fischer, please, you are far too busy. I can sort it myself.” We had made it through another door that led into a room which was so uniquely childlike.

“Please, I’ve been looking for an excuse to leave.” He smirked at me and led me to sit down on the window seat. He went to a drawer for plasters and then another for disinfectant. He moved about the room with assuredness. He returned and lifted my leg so that it rested over his knees. I tugged down the end of my short-ish dress. He opened the disinfectant and dabbed it with cotton wool. As he went about this, I took in the room around me.

It felt busy but not cluttered. In the middle of the back wall sat a single bed with light blue cotton sheets. The sheets were decorated with multi-coloured windmills. The white bedside tables held many trinkets of a young boy. The chest of drawers was home to more pictures and framed memories. My head lifted higher, and I saw the sky painted blue and it held wooden planes that flew around the room with a freedom I believe the owner wished he had.

“This is your room, isn’t it.” I whispered.

He didn’t look up from my scar. “Yes.” He chuckled. “Not that I stay in it.”

We both laughed. “I could see you still squeezing into that.” I pointed to the neatly made bed.

“I have thought about it.” He remarked.

I braved my next words. “Or maybe you just want to sleep in a simpler time.” Our eyes met again.

I noticed a familiar picture which sat on the chest. And I realised it was the same one that rested on the window seat between us, covered by Robert’s jacket.

“Is that you and your dad?” I mentally smacked myself for such a stupid question.

“Yeah.” He spoke.

“How old are you here?” I picked up the delicate frame. I smiled at the picture of a young Robert blowing on a handmade windmill, sat in his father’s lap. I could feel the love radiating from this image. It now seemed so different to the coldness one felt in this house.

“10. The nurse said he may respond to being surrounded by happy memories. That was the happiest day of my life.” He placed his arms around me to join mine on the frame. “I just didn’t think that it might not be one for him.” As I turned to face him, I realised how close we were. One gentle slip and our lips would touch. Each exhale was felt on the others face. “There’s something. Have we met before?”

What was I doing?!

I retreated back, freeing myself from his arms. I had to leave. Find Eames and get out of here.

“I am so sorry, but I have to go—I just—I--.” I barely even finished a sentence as I ran out, back to the office. I threw my hair in front of my face as if that would help me now. Eames, Eames, EAMES!

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Robert’s pov*

I ran back to catch her before she left. I was unsuccessful so I asked Browning. She’d left so quickly I’d never even gotten her name. But I knew I needed it.

“That intern, what’s her name?” I asked my godfather.

“I don’t know, why? Where did you just go off to?” He responded.

“I’ve had to be numb to a lot in my life, but just then I felt something.” I would see that girl again if it’s the last thing I do. "Something real."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

Eames and I were safely in our rental car, driving back to the warehouse. Eames seemed pleased at his progress and thankfully hadn’t noticed my absence.

“I have Browning down to a T and I think he is going to be the key. If we can somehow get Robert’s own projection of Browning to—” As he prattled on, I struggled to quieten my breathing after my speedy getaway. All I could do was watch the world pass by my window, willing my mind to forget everything that just happened. How Cinderella of me.

“You, okay?” Eames looked over to me concerned.

“Yeah. I think the bad relationship with the father is the way in. Everything about that dynamic is so…broken.” I softly spoke.

“Nice. I like a good gap to sneak through.” I rolled my eyes at his childishness but also couldn’t help but laugh.

“He saw me.” I admitted.

The car came to a grinding halt. I sat cowering hearing Eames’ heavy sighs. “I’m sorry.” I managed to stumble out through my choked throat. Eames’ head hung low in his hands.

“Why?” he huffed out.

“I didn’t really have much control over it!” I argued back. This wasn’t a complete lie, in more ways than one. It had to happen. “Please don’t tell my dad, I can’t have him thinking I blew this whole case. Because I didn’t okay, because it’s fixable! You know that! Please you can help me fix it!” I was now begging Eames by scrambling at his coat to force him to look into my apologetic eyes.

“I thought you were better than that.” He spat.

“So did I.” I slumped back in my seat. A minute of silence passed. We both just stewed in it.

“I won’t tell your dad.” I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding on to. “But-“ I gave him my entire focus. “You mustn’t get distracted. Promise?” He held his pinkie out to me. I giggled remembering fondly.

“I promise.” I finished, linking my pinkie with his and then we both kissed our thumbs together whilst making a corresponding sound.

We drove off once more. Eames satisfied in the promise he’d made me make. I was terrified that I would break it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

a/n - they've finally met!!

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer

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fumifooms · 2 months

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i know you aren't really into marcille/laios any longer, but since you went looking online for dungeon meshi doujins, did you happen to find any other marcille/laios ones? (funnily enough at the convention i was at a couple weeks back they had like five, but they were extremely over-exaggerated and personally i prefer my fan content relatively in character...)

Ok first of all: Yeah listen laimar doesn’t have a grip on me anymore but I still quite enjoy it! Just more passively… Altho I do have an analysis that focuses a lot on the importance they hold to each other in my early stage wips drafts, and listen in canon I do think they’re queerplatonic flavored, call me an ot3 qpr truther because Laios Marcille and Falin have a something going on and it transcends being put into a box. But hey hey I reblog laimar artworks I bought that recent doujin I put laimar fics in my -checks- 106 pages long to-read list… Also I have like 5 pages of fanfic prompts for them I may or may not get to writing. Though yeah I do feel bad whenever I notice people following after liking all my laimar posts haha

Sadly to get to the meat of the topic, not really… I don’t go to cons for lack of opportunity so whatever I find is through online. The one I got is The Fourth Basement Floor, it has an english ver and seems so so very in character I can’t wait to get it! Otherwise I’ve looked on Otakurepublic & Doujinrepublic since I use their services for merch from Japan, warning if you click on the link, there are 18+ ones and covers can be pretty explicit. I don’t remember any other laimar one except the one nsfw one I think, but on the plus side there are a lot of gen no ships doujins. I’m bothered because looking back I feel like the catalogue of doujins was wider when I looked all those months ago and it feels like I’m forgetting something hmm… I wish I could help more, but yeah 😔 Pixiv has many laimar comics up (in japanese) if that sates the hunger any

As consolation since I’m already here, why not show some of my laimar things laying around gathering dust I’m fond of. Don’t look if you don’t want to be spoiled for fics I may or may not write I guess? All down below is just laimar prompts

I spoke about some various ones and esp my timeline where she gets him into Daltian Clan here. "Laios… I was wondering, because you enjoy fantasy stories right? I was wondering if you’d like to give my favorite book series a go… It has monsters!" I love love love post-canon laimar where he gets the habit of chewing on her hair because he’s stimming and hungry. Like a goat.

Laios goes to Marcille for love advice. "You like someone?! Do I know them?" She eagerly asked. "Erm… Yes…?" // Post-canon. He’s so nervous and puts his foot in his mouth n lets things slip out that he thought would give him away. (Comic) "You like someone??! What are they like? Who are they?" And he’s like "Well… She’s a half-elf." He’s like shit she’ll probably know right away. And she goes still. "I’ve never met another half-elf!! We’re so rare! You’re saying you met one and didn’t tell me???!" She’s shaking him. And then she goes still again, contempt drawing on her face. "Wait… Are you asking me for advice because I’m a half-elf?" Laios runs with it "Yes!! And because you’re so savvy with romance and what people like…? If, uh, if you were a half-elf, what would you like to get as a gift? What sort of confession would you want?" "… You saved it there. Okay so since I’m so knowledgeable on romance, tell me what is she like?" "-describes Marcille-" She nods, smug yet oblivious. "Aah I can already tell we’d be great friends. Good taste." (then Thinking bubble with him giving her flowers at a restaurant "Did you know roses are edible and used in recipes", candlelit dinner, or wait maybe the most romantic is cooking together alone at home, chocolate! It’s expensive though… Wait I’m king now!)

Lil comic, Laios wakes up snuggled against Marcille’s back then promptly falls off the bed. The noise makes Marcille wake up and she’s like omg are u ok?? Laios is so sweaty and panicked and in denial about her being special to him. She explains, disgruntled at the memory "Izutsumi is bunking in with Chilchuck again, they’re taking the whole bedrolls." Pause. "Sorry, I should have told you, but you like sleeping with Izutsumi too so I figured…" She looked sheepish. "Between you and Senshi, I much prefer sleeping with you. It feels sort of nostalgic, like a sleepover, no?" He relaxes and gets in the bed again, smiling. "But… We’ve never had a sleepover?" She chuckles "I guess not. I must be getting that impression because of Falin…" And the air between them is warm yet bittersweet now, as she smiles like that and his eyes and smile cloud over. The earlier instinctive reluctance to touch is gone now. She snuggles into his arms and is like "Hug me?" "Okay." And he does, wraps his arms around her and tucks his chin over her head.

Post canon, marcille takes him to a squid restaurant. Cute lighthearted hehe. He sulks "If there are any parasites in this I will ban squid from this kingdom or so help me…"

Short post canon fluff marcille pov about laios gaining weight n becoming chubby. She used to dream of chiseled abs and angular elves, laios in every way, shape and form is so far from the beauty standards she idealized so. And yet… She loves how soft sleeping against him is, how much there’s more of him for her to hug and nuzzle her face in. She loves seeing him and seeing someone strong, who isn’t malnourished or underweight, someone healthy with color in their skin. An healthy appetite. He used to look more like a rectangle, severe and strict, but now he looked rounder, and seeing him smile at her always made her feel like that roundness suited him. She smiled back, and melted thinking about how her boyfriend was the sweetest in the world. ^I still wanna do this one really bad. Sometimes a fic premise comes from nowhere and puts you in a chokehold and you must finish it to obtain catharsis

Short oneshot about laios musing about Marcille’s smile, how important it is to him in subtle ways etc: Ends with Laios being like wait there’s something off (succubus). Then he grabbed her throat. Or smth

Laios seeing her dungeon like "this is so wrong Marcille you can’t run a dungeon for shit" and also "WHAT ARE THESE HORRORS OF MONSTERS NOO THEY CAN’T BE EFFECTIVE LIKE THAT"

Dinner for two: Very warm. Marcille and Laios are meeting up and cooking a dinner just for them both, no one else is there. They’re being so domestic and it’s light. Laios pauses at some point, doing the dishes, saying… I’ve always worried, thinking doing things like these would remind me of my parents.

Laios doesn’t know what to do when he realizes he actually *likes* likes Marcille, so he avoids her. Everyone notices and is disapproving of him.

Her mana acts up and she shares her dream with someone, kinda like with Izutsumi. Listen the premise could be smutty but I think it’d be more fun if they just hanged out n were silly, like the nightmares chapter without the nightmare

Laimar pining but from the view of Chilchuck, his love hatred sensing a storm brewing. The giggling, the looks. Ugh! It reminded him of himself and his wife when they were young and newly dating.

I love Laios and Izu being worsties so. Laios sees izutsumi rubbing her scent on marcille’s clothes and gets possessive. Maybe Golden Kingdom maybe something else I have no clue but Laios being ridiculous and cheek rubbing or something <3

I might want to do an AU where Laios gets into werebeast ring fighting, before canon and the split happens after he deserts the military. So he’s alone, has nothing going for him and stumbles into that sphere and gets werebeast tattoos done. It doesn’t make him happier at all and fighting sucks actually, but it brings money and he likes being a beast and being cheered by a crowd aka illusion of being liked, and money brings food and eating is the privilege of the living etc etc. So then when he goes to check on Falin at the academy it’s a big AU where he has a whole other reputation and look to him, and when he meets izutsumi their relationship is different and aaaaaa… He’s freeer in this au, lets himself be animalistic and weird, even though ofc the arc is him letting himself be more human as well and connecting with humans, through talking and infodumping n shit. Oh I went off but the laimar is because it’s inspired by cool laimar art here (warning tho it’s an art dump with toudencest also 😔) but werewolf Laios laimar AUs… A lotta fun stuff there idk idk

#Laimar #ask #Ppl can send me laimar asks tbh idk when i’d get to them but i do still love them #Not all that much left i wanna explore analysis or post wise with them though #Laios touden #marcille donato #Fanfic wips #Dungeon meshi #Spoilers #dungeon meshi manga spoilers

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chronicbeans · 3 months

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Let's Make a Deal! (Yandere Queerplatonic Alastor x Fallen Angel Reader)

Part 3: Deal, dear?

Part 1, Part 2

Tag List: @repostingmyfavs

TW: Invasions of Personal Space, Shady Deals

As much as you hoped having that conversation would stop Alastor from staring at you, it only seemed to make things worse. Now that he knows you are open to talking to him, he's gotten into the habit of walking over to you, asking you invasive questions, then walking away. Usually something along the lines of "Do you miss your family? Did you have any family in Heaven? Have you had a relationship before? If not, why not?" Then, he'd end the conversation with something more lightheaded, such as "What's your favorite color? Do you prefer coffee, or tea?". After that, he'd just leave. You feel way too unnerved and uncomfortable to say no to answering, most of the time...

A lot of his questioning seems to revolve around family, for some reason. You've also noticed Alastor becoming much more touchy with you. Not necessarily in an inappropriate manner, though. More like a sudden arm around your shoulder that lasts much longer than before, a hug, or him suddenly holding your hand. You don't really mind. It's definitely a lot better than you expected from somebody in Hell, but it's still noticable.

Today is one of those days, as you're sitting on the couch in the main lobby, watching some television, when you suddenly feel Alastor sling an arm around your shoulder. "Dear, what are you doing, looking at that picture box? I'm sure that there couldn't possibly be anything of interest on it."

You look up to him, raising an eyebrow. "Well, there's a nice show on. So I want to watch it-" You're cut off by him shutting off the television. "Well, I must speak with you about something. I want to make a deal with you, dear. Deals are much more important than a dumb little picture box." He then stands up, pointing to you. "You fell out of Heaven due to someone convincing them that you deserved such damnation, correct?"

You stare up at him, surprised by how forward he is being. You raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms. "Yes... but what-" "I want you to convince them to drop someone else from Heaven's grace, down here, into Hell." "What?!"

You then stand up, confused and dismayed. "You must be joking, Alastor- this joke isn't funny! Why would you possibly believe I'd be willing to do such a thing? Nobody deserves to be cast out due to an over exaggeration or lie!" You glare up at him, only to be surprised once you notice his ever present grin looking extremely strained.

His voice fills with static as he points to you, his eyes seeming to glow with either irritation, or desperation. "Dear, you're my friend. I promise you, whatever you want in return for this favor, I'll give it to you." You instantly lean away, continuing to glare. "I never agreed to be your friend." "That doesn't matter. You're my friend whether you like it or not. Please. At least consider it. Consider all of the things you could get out of this deal!"

You think, genuinely... At first, you are going to say no, but... what if he can get you to Heaven? Or, at least, find a way to increase your chances of getting to Heaven? "... Fine, but you have to try to find a way to get me into Heaven... Not just so I can get whoever you want to damn down here, but also so that I can return there. For good." Alastor pauses, before nodding, though you can tell he is upset. "Fine, dear. I suppose that is fair."

He then walks over to him, smiling. "The person I want you to get damned, is... actually, come over here. I don't want anyone else to hear." You nod, walking over to him. He quietly whispers a name into your ear, alongside a few of their negative traits, before pulling away. "I'm sure Lucifer may be able to help you set up an appointment with Heaven... it might just take some convincing on my end to get him to agree..."

"Well, why do you want this person damned, Alastor...?" You stare up at him, flinching as his smile turns cold, for a brief moment. He then looks away from you, before his eyes snap back towards you.

"You'll understand once they get here, my dearest friend. Now, shake my hand, and the deal is sealed. I'll get this person into Hell, and you'll get your precious home in Heaven back."

Without hesitation, you grab his hand and shake on it. Alastor's grin widens as you do so, but you barely even notice it. Your thoughts are trained on getting the poor sap he mentioned into Hell, even if you'll feel guilty in the end... you don't know how much longer you can stand being in Hell with him constantly looking over you.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin #alastor the radio demon #alastor #hazbin hotel yandere #alastor x reader #queerplatonic #yandere alastor

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withacapitalp · 1 year

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How to Rehabilitate a Jock pt 14

Part One Part Thirteen Link to Ao3 Part Fifteen

Thank you to @stevethehairington for betaing and @thefreakandthehair for always being the world's best cheerleader/support!!! Also everyone @angstflayer-council for motivating me to finish this chapter. I hope you guys like it!! ALSO I FORGOT TAG LISTS FOR PART THIRTEEN SORRY YALL I FIXED IT THIS TIME

Step Fourteen: Ask for a Second Opinion

Eddie and Wayne had a routine for gig nights.

First Wayne would get home from his shift and go about his normal business. Shucking off work clothes, grabbing a quick cold shower, fixing himself a sandwich with whatever leftovers they had in the fridge- the same thing he did every night when he came back from the plant. Then, when all that was taken care of, he would turn on the radio to listen to the news, grab a beer from the fridge, and pull out the most important thing in their trailer.

The waffle iron.

It was an ancient thing, a giant heavy slab of metal that had been passed down from Great Granny Munson herself. Eddie was ninety nine percent sure it would outlive him too, but that was just a fact of Munson life. The cord for the waffle iron was frayed in about half a dozen places, and it smoked if it was powered on for longer than an hour at a time, but there was no denying that the beat up old thing made the best damn waffles Eddie had ever had.

If Eddie had it his way, they would eat waffles every single day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They were his all time favorite food and when he had first moved in with Wayne they were all he would eat. Eventually the two of them had come to a compromise- Eddie could have waffles on Sundays, birthdays, holidays, and any day he brought home a test with a grade that had a B or higher.

And gig nights.

Of course, that addition had come later. Wayne hadn’t allowed him to play at the Hideout until he was legally an adult. It came from a good place (It was just one of the many many ways Wayne had tried to keep Eddie from becoming his father.) but it was still annoying being forced to wait that long.

The waffles kind of made it worth the wait though.

The next part of the routine was Eddie. Eddie would come home egregiously late, and they would eat together. As they ate through ridiculously high stacks of delicious syrupy goodness, Eddie would tell Wayne everything that had happened.

Nothing was off the table. Eddie would tell Wayne about whatever drugs he took, if he drank, if he dealt, whatever his uncle asked about. By now he had learned that Wayne was just looking out for him. And as long as he was honest, Wayne would let him keep doing what he was doing. He just wanted to be in the loop, and that was a small thing to ask.

This was the first gig night that Eddie was home before Wayne.

“I didn’t know how to make the batter,” Eddie said as soon as Wayne opened the door, causing the man to jump out of his skin from being started. Eddie gave his uncle a nervous little grin from where he was sitting on the couch, tapping his fingers against his thighs in incomprehensible patterns.

“And I was also worried about turning on the waffle iron. Figured you wouldn’t wanna come home to a burnt down trailer and a pile of bones instead of your beloved beloved nephew,” Eddie joked, trying to cut through the tension that had been surrounding him since he came home two hours ago.

The anxiety fueled energy running through his veins was making it impossible to sit still, impossible to make eye contact as Wayne stared at him with a raised brow.

“What’d you do?” Wayne asked as he hung up his hat with a put upon sigh.

“Nothing! Geez Wayne, have a little faith,” Eddie complained, tossing his head back and giving an exaggerated groan. This was easy. Playing a game and making a show of things was something Eddie could do in his sleep, and it was so much more simple than the alternative. He even looked Wayne directly in the eye, just to really sell it.

“You just think I’m a good for nothin’ troublemaker, don’t you? Spill it, old man, I already know the answer! I am distraught that even my own flesh and blood thinks I’m only capable of tomfoolery.”

Wayne grunted, crossing his arms and giving Eddie one long slow look, peeling back all the layers, lowering all the walls.

“What’d you do?” Wayne repeated, his tone short and to the point.

Eddie wilted like a flower. His shoulders hunched inward, and his gaze shot straight to the floor. He dragged one of his socked toes across the carpet in the living room, avoiding his uncle’s piercing gaze.

“Nothin’” Eddie mumbled, “we just got cut short, that’s all.”

That wasn’t even scratching the surface, but they both knew that. There was no way Wayne was going to leave it at that.

Sure enough, his uncle just hummed, walking into their small kitchenette and pulling open the fridge.

“Y’all ended early ‘cause of the power outage?” Wayne asked, rhetorically, already knowing the answer.

Eddie stood up from the couch, coming over to the bar and sitting on one of the stools, nodding glumly as he let his head fall in his palm, still avoiding eye contact.

“Then what’s wrong?” Wayne asked, passing Eddie a beer as he took a sip from his own and grabbed the eggs.

“I’m annoyed that our show ended early?” Eddie said, hating that it came out as a question.

It wasn’t a question, he was annoyed about that. The power outage just wasn’t the thing that was bothering him.

“And?” Wayne pressed, carefully unwrapping the cord of the waffle iron and gingerly plugging it into the socket. The red light on the front lit up, promising delicious fresh waffles in just minutes.

“And I messed up this super easy riff which pissed me off,” Eddie added, his stomach clenching up as he continued to avoid the actual problem.

The issue was, he was probably one of the worst liars in the world, and Wayne could smell bullshit a mile off.

“Eddie, you know our rule,” Wayne said, sounding like the epitome of patience as he whisked batter, his back still turned to his nephew.

“…Always be honest,” Eddie mumbled, his cheeks flushing as he was forced to recite the single rule Wayne actually had for him.

Eddie could run as wild as he had to, do whatever it took to get through being a boy like him living in a town like Hawkins, but there couldn’t be secrets between them. Wayne couldn’t protect him if he didn’t know what Eddie was dealing with, and Eddie couldn’t trust that Wayne would always support him if he didn’t give him the chance.

Normally repeating those words was a comfort, a cathartic tradition that settled Eddie’s soul. No matter what he told Wayne, he would still love him, still support him. Nothing Eddie could do would make his uncle abandon him.

Today it just felt…invasive.

“If you can’t talk ‘bout it yet, you can say that,” Wayne reminded him, looking over his shoulder for a second so Eddie could meet his eyes for the first time that night, “just don’t pretend like nothin’s there.”

It wasn’t that Eddie didn’t want to talk about it. He was actually pretty desperate to, but he didn’t know where to start. He hadn’t intentionally forgotten to tell Wayne about Steve, but he hadn’t come up at all in the last six weeks, and with everything that happened earlier, there was no easy avenue to explain.

“And I’m worried about my friend,” Eddie admitted quietly, starting with the only thing he was absolutely sure of.

He was worried about Steve. Really, really, worried.

“Which friend?” Wayne grunted, pouring out the batter for the first waffle with a satisfying hiss of the iron, “Gareth? Or Jeff?”

“Steve,” Eddie replied, taking a sip of his drink before he clarified, “Steve Harrington.”

“Richard’s boy?” Wayne wondered, doing nothing to hide his shock at a Harrington mixing with a Munson.

“Yeah, but he’s nothing like how you’d expect!” Eddie said quickly, rambling away his anxiety as he drummed his fingers on the countertop. “I mean I thought he was for a while, but he’s actually really cool and sweet and thoughtful and funny and stuff. Like he brought us cookies today before the gig, and he babysits all these weird little nerdy kids too! There’s this whole-“

“Eddie, breathe,” Wayne chuckled, giving his nephew a fond eye roll as he put down a plate in front of him. An absolutely ginormous waffle stared back up at Eddie, already glistening with butter and maple syrup.

It was perfect. Glorious. Eddie’s stomach was growling.

“Why are you worried about ‘im? Did somethin’ happen tonight?” Wayne asked, turning back to the iron and starting on his own waffle.

Eddie launched into his story as he dug into his treat. He started straight from the beginning, right from the first time Steve had accidentally sat at their lunch table all the way to tonight and the panic attack in the middle of the parking lot. He even admitted to the tiny crush that he had once had that was burning a hole in the back of his mind every time Steve smiled at him.

But there was one big glaring hole in the middle.

Eddie didn’t say a word about the bet.

He tried to. He really honestly did. But every time Eddie got close to it, he started to think about the disappointed look Wayne was going to give him, and the deep sigh that was coming with it. Wayne never yelled, never insulted him, but there were times Eddie would have honestly preferred if he did.

Anger would be so much better than the deep shame that always came with knowing that he had done something Wayne would disapprove of. And this was definitely something Wayne would disapprove of.

“Then he just left with them, Wayne!” Eddie exploded, finally at the end of the surprisingly long story. Both waffles had already been consumed, the dishes were in the sink to soak, and the two of them were sitting on their beat up old couch, with Eddie’s head resting against Wayne’s shoulder. “Steve got in the car and drove off. With his ex-girlfriend. And the guy she cheated on him with!”

“Sounds like you’re more upset about that part then he is,” Wayne said, the smile in his tone evident. “Is that what’s actually botherin’ you about all of this?”

“Wayne,” Eddie snapped, cutting off his uncle’s teasing before he could even start. He pulled away, sitting up and waiting until his uncle met his eye before continuing, “this is serious. There’s something wrong. Really wrong. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to help him if he can’t even tell me about it.”

Because that’s what Steve had said. Not that he didn’t want to tell Eddie. That he couldn’t tell Eddie.

That Eddie wouldn’t have even believed him if he could.

Which was insane, because Eddie was pretty sure Steve could say that he had seen the second coming of Christ, and Eddie would believe him. Steve could tell him that aliens existed, and Eddie would believe him. Steve could even spout off about characters from Dungeons and Dragons coming to life and dragging him on a quest and-

Well, Eddie wasn’t sure he would totally believe that, but he would definitely listen at the very least!

Steve wasn’t even giving him a chance to prove him wrong. He was just locking this all inside, holding it and bottling it and expecting it to go away when it wouldn’t. Eddie had been there, and he knew that trying to force something down only made it come up even worse later on.

“Eddie,” Wayne said with a sigh, instantly putting his nephew on edge. It was a sigh Eddie knew well- the one Wayne gave when he wanted to tell him something that he knew that Eddie wasn’t going to want to hear.

“You can’t help him if he ain’t ready to be helped.”

Wayne’s hesitation there was right. Eddie definitely didn’t want to hear that.

“That is such bullshit-“

“Kiddo,” Wayne said, cutting Eddie’s rant off before it could even really start with just one word.

Eddie’s jaw shut with a snap, and he dragged a sharp breath in, looking at Wayne with wide eyes, trying to silently convey exactly why he was wrong.

His uncle’s tough exterior melted away, and a gentle sympathy took over. If it was anyone else, Eddie would have bristled, gotten angry, pushed them away. On anyone else, that look would be

pity.

With Wayne, it was just kindness.

“Is it just the fact that you have feelings for this boy that’s makin’ you so damn persistent?” Wayne asked in a soft tone.

Eddie instantly reared back, a surprised laugh bursting out of him.

“No, Wayne I used to have a crush on him,” Eddie stressed, trying to make Wayne understand. “Back when we were younger. Years ago! It’s gone now.”

“Eds,” Wayne said in a no-nonsense tone, “be serious.”

“I am,” Eddie retorted, a heavy blush staining his cheeks as his heart hammered in his chest. “I don’t have a crush on him anymore. I don’t. I can care about my friends without it being a gay thing, so just drop it!”

“Eddie, I’ll drop it if you can look me in the eye right now and tell me you don’t have any feelings for that boy,” Wayne challenged, keeping his cool as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the cushions, waiting.

“Well that’s stupid, Wayne. Of course I have feelings for him,” Eddie sneered. He got up and began to pace, unable to hold it all in anymore as he continued to rant.

“I care about him like I care about all my friends. It’s not like he’s nothing to me, but he’s just a friend, that’s all. I just think that it’s really cool that he was brave enough to join our group, and it’s sweet that he’s trying so hard. He isn’t half-assing it, and he doesn’t half-ass anything! Steve puts his whole self into everything he does and everyone he cares about, and caring that much is such an easy way to get hurt, but it’s like he’s not even worried! I mean, you should see the way he is with the kids! We’re just friends, that’s all, and that’s fine. I don’t need it to be anything more. I don’t want it to be anything more. Look we have a few stupid inside jokes, and some moments, but that doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like I love him, I just-“

Eddie cut himself off, taking a sharp shaking breath in as the reality of it all came crashing down on his head. He took a stumbling step backward, trying to breathe as he staggered back to the couch and fell down into his seat.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered, burying his face in his hands, the lump in his throat constricting his breath as his eyes burned. “Fuck.”

A warm hand fell between his shoulder blades, and Eddie blindly tipped on his side, letting Wayne’s arm curl around him as he burrowed into his uncle’s side.

“It’s alright,” Wayne murmured, rubbing his thumb against the side of Eddie’s head as his nephew tried to catch his breath. “It’s not wrong for you to feel the way you do. It’s not somethin’ you can control. It’s not a bad thing.”

“I know,” Eddie croaked out, hating the way he kind of didn’t believe the words.

This wasn’t his first crush, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Eddie had always known who he was, and he had never pretended to be anything else. He wasn’t ashamed, but he couldn’t help the fear that still lived inside.

That fear… it was terrifying, and painful. He hated being scared of himself, but he still was. Eddie was scared of the way people would look at him, scared of the way the world would treat him if they knew for a fact instead of just assuming. Scared of the way things would change.

Scared of the way Steve would probably hate him if he ever figured it out.

Steve. That’s what this was all about. It wasn’t about how Eddie felt. Tonight was about Steve, and how worried Eddie was for him.

“Okay but even if I am attracted to him, that’s not why I want to help him,” Eddie said, carefully pulling away from Wayne’s grip and rubbing at his dry cheeks. No tears had ever come, but Eddie did it anyway, just to be sure.

“Then why?” Wayne asked, genuinely curious.

Why?

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

Eddie looked up at the other boy, furrowing his brow.

“Why not?” Eddie said with a shrug, going back to his notebook. He was scratching out another tik-tac-toe board to add to the dozens that were already on the page.

“People aren’t just nice,” The boy insisted, giving Eddie a guarded look. “They always want something.”

“I want to make this afternoon a little less unbearable, and I want to make you feel better.” Eddie offered, quirking his head to the side and offering the pen to the other boy. “Is that enough?”

They stared at each other for a long second, until the other boy’s face broke into an incredulous smile and he ducked his head down.

“You’re really weird,” He said with a soft laugh, taking the pen. It was a lovely sound, like birds singing in the morning, or the first soft strum of a guitar as practice began.

Eddie needed to hear it again.

“He needed me,” Eddie said softly, lost somewhere in between now and the memory. “Still does. I think.”

Did Steve need him? Eddie wasn’t sure. All he knew was Steve needed someone and Eddie was the one who knew it.

“Then be there for him,” Wayne suggested, patting Eddie twice on the back as he stood and walked over to his bed, beginning to pull it out, “You don’t need to know why he needs help to support. Sometimes all someone needs is someone to be there.”

“You’re right,” Eddie replied, sensing the end of the conversation coming. Exhaustion was tugging on his eyelids, and Wayne was beginning to yawn,. “I just wish I could do more.”

“I think you’re doin’ more than you realize,” Wayne offered, settling on the side of his bed and stretching.

“Thanks Wayne,” Eddie sighed, turning and heading towards his room.

“Is there anything else on your mind?” Wayne said from behind, stopping Eddie in his tracks. “Feels like you might’ve left something out.”

Eddie paused, feeling like a mouse caught in a trap. He knew that if Wayne could see his face, he would’ve been done for, but just with his back, there wasn’t enough to prove he was right.

Briefly, Eddie wondered if Wayne was a psychic, or had some sort of power to know when Eddie was keeping a secret. It felt like there was a big yellow sign above his head, shouting that he needed his uncle to help him before it was too late.

I think I’m doing the wrong thing, Eddie thought, desperately working his throat, trying to force the words out, I think I’m doing something mean, and it’s going to end up hurting Steve. Badly. I’m doing the wrong thing, and I don’t know how to stop it before he gets hurt.

“No,” Eddie whispered, hating himself for the lie, “there’s nothing else.”

Taglist: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name @minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

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emlovessid · 7 days

Note

I’m so sorry I’m late to the party, but I have a prompt for you, if you’re still interested.

Sirius talking to James about how much he likes Remus and everything he wants Remus to do to him, sexual and otherwise, and Remus overhearing and just being like :o and trying to act normal around him the next time they talk, especially without tipping Sirius off that he heard. Of course, he fails miserably.

This is incredibly similar to an ask I’ve sent in on another blog and I’m sorry for that, but in my defence this scenario plays over and over in my head 24/7 and there’s so many ways it can go.

hi love! you are so fine, sorry it took me so long to get around to this one haha. hope you enjoy <33

“—and I’m losing my mind, James. How do you deal with it?”

“Deal with what?”

Remus freezes where his hand was about to push open James’ door to ask him if he needs anything from the supermarket, fingers hovering just over the door handle when he realises he’s about to interrupt clearly a very important conversation. Taking a step back, he’s ready to retreat down the hall when Sirius starts speaking again.

“With being in love,” Sirius sighs. “I thought when people described love as this all-consuming thing they were just exaggerating, but god, they were not exaggerating. If anything, they were under-exaggerating. How does anyone get anything done?”

Remus knows that he should walk away, knows that he most definitely should not be eavesdropping on this coversation right now, but his heart is stuck in his throat as he tries to wrap his head around the fact that Sirius is apparently in love?

Without giving James a chance to answer, Sirius is rambling again, and Remus can almost imagine his manic eyes and his arms waving about as he says, “It’s literally all I can think about, all day. And then I go to bed and I fucking dream about it, about him, about him and his stupid face and his stupid smile and how much I want to just stick my tongue down his fucking throat.”

It’s with a shaky breath and a sting behind his eyes that Remus finally manages to start moving back towards the kitchen, but then the whole world comes to a shuddering stop when James groans, “I don’t need to know about how much you want to stick your tongue down Moony’s throat.”

Moony? Moony?! Sirius wants to stick his tongue down his throat?!! There’s no way—

“It’s not just that. I mean, yeah, obviously I want to snog him, and have him fuck me so hard into my mattress that I can barely walk the next day—” Remus can barely hear James’ complaints over the sound of his own heart beating thunderously in his ears, “—but I also want to just, walk down the street holding his hand and run my fingers through his hair while he’s reading a book and wake up next to him in the morning.”

Remus actually pinches himself on the wrist then, sure that he must be dreaming, because in what universe are his months of pining actually reciprocated?

“That’s great. And I hope you get all that, I really do. But in order to get that you actually have to tell him you—” Remus leaves midway through James’ sentence, his feet finally catching up with his mind and hurrying back down the hall, grabbing a reusable bag and his keys on his way out the front door.

—

By the time he makes it back from the supermarket, he’s successfully pushed down all thoughts of what he overheard to the deepest depths of his mind, piling on top of it his shopping list and the recipe for tonight’s dinner and what clothes he needs to put in the wash later. That is, until, he walks back inside and finds Sirius leaning against the kitchen counter, jar of peanut butter in one hand as he grins at Remus around a spoon.

“There you are!” Sirius cheers, and with just a look and a smile, all of that pushing down was for naught.

“I want that too,” Remus blurts.

“The peanut butter? Sure, let me grab you another spoon,” Sirius says with a shrug, reaching for the drawer behind him before Remus’ hand on his wrist stops him, his eyes wide and searching as they meet Remus’.

“Not the peanut butter,” Remus sighs, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I want – I want to hold hands and feel your fingers in my hair and have your face be the first thing I see in the morning.”

Sirius’ voice is barely a whisper when he says, “Oh.”

Taking a step closer until he’s practically caging Sirius in against the counter, Remus continues, “And I would like nothing more than to stick my tongue down your throat—”

“Oh.”

“—and fuck you into your mattr—”

Sirius doesn’t give him a chance to finish, surging up and capturing Remus’ lips with his own, the taste of peanut butter on his tongue as he licks into Remus’ mouth, but it’s everything Remus had hoped for and more.

follower appreciation – drop me a prompt <3

#i'm obsessed with them #my favourite pining idiots <3 #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #marauders #sometimes i write things #replies

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kesleyjo · 9 months

Text

I'm having some finale wine and I think I've got it. My final resolute head canon of Riverdale.

Keep in mind I have not watched the end of season 5 through the end and have absolutely no intention to, but I've seen and heard enough about *gestures vaguely* all of that to still stand by this.

Disclaimer: I do not believe this is what the writers intended whatsoever. This is all my imagination. I do however believe in this canon whole heartedly and its as true to me as whatever RAS's vision is to him. You choose who to trust.

Okay so first and foremost the entire series is written by Jughead. It's all his writings that are probably all sitting in a google docs draft folder.

I justify this due to the following:

He is the narrator

The entire series is obsessed with Betty Cooper for good or ill (I'll get to it)

Its all kind of sort of been alluded to that its all Jughead's writings anyway. At least in S1, again. I'll get to the why of that in a second.

He started writing season 1 in his junior year (so a year after the events of the S1). He read In Cold Blood (on his own, not for class, very important to him that you all know this) and was like "Hey my town had a murder and I have some trauma around it, so I should totes do this." And thus S1 is born.

This is why that season is (relatively) more grounded and far more realistic than the rest of the series because its based on a real true thing that happened and the real feelings and emotions of people involved. It has the least amount of exaggeration (but enough, because Jughead) and has the most coherent plot, which would make sense since Jughead isn't making anything up, he is recalling events.

This is also the only season that directly ties Jughead's narration and the plot to the book Jughead is writing on page, and thus tying them both together. Because again, its a thing that really happened.

So the characterizations, motivations, and actions of everyone in season 1 is the model of how and how these characters actually are and are a base for further exaggeration.

Seasons 2-4 are also based on true events but are exaggerations/interpretations of things that really happened, but are altered to make them more interesting to Jughead's readers (heh).

I don't want this post to be a novel so here is a brief listing of that I am thinking here for some of the main plots (but if you have a plot you want me to fit into this canon let me know):

The Black Hood: When Jughead showed Betty his first manuscript (S1) the positive constructive criticism she gave was that, "True crime is really popular right now, so this fits in with the zeitgeist." And Jughead ran with it. Fred also had his first heart attack at this time...we all know where I'm going with that so I'll just leave that there. RIP.

Making Hal the Black Hood: Hal leaves the family after the Polly debacle and finding some racy pics on Betty's computer (she sent them to Jug, she wasn't a camgirl) and decides to start his life over with a woman who is far more moral (and probably like 2 years older than Polly)

The Serpents/Class War with Hiram: Not a gang, just those under the boot of the rich that Hiram tries to eradicate through good ol fashioned gentrification. Archie and Veronica also start spending more time doing rich people shit and that drives a divide between the two main couples of the core four. But less about political plots and more about teenagers growing apart because of different interests

Season 3: Putting this all together because Jughead was having a hard time finding a plot here. So he focused on Alice's new weird young boyfriend who actually ended up taking off with Polly (leaving her twins), his newfound obsession with DnD (Betty was exhaustedly supportive of this) and Kevin's endless talk about the new megachurch he just joined. He and Betty also started watching a lot of horror films and Hitchcock at the time which leads us to...

Season 4: He and Betty go off to different schools but its because of college, not because Jug is the chosen one (again see why he is writing all of this himself). He meets a lot of pretentious people that challenge his relationship with Betty and he turns it into a mystery.

So now we have made it to 4.17. Ugh.

Okay so Jughead has written all of this, and reading everything back feels that Archie and Betty (who go to the same college now and are friends again after growing apart after he dated Veronica) have grown too close and Jug self destructs.

He self sabotages so hard and makes a story up in his head that Betty would be much happier with Archie who is doing perfectly mediocre at college while Jughead flunked out.

So he and Betty break up after a lot of frustrated fighting.

And he begins to write Betty differently. Wildly differently.

(You can't tell me this doesn't make more sense than whatever the hell happened in the show.)

Jughead dejected from his failure at school and his breakup Writes on and off for the next few years. His next main attempt is S5. His attempt at more realistic writing.

(Its also after Betty enters his life again, because at her core Betty is his muse)

He works through his fictional frustrations of Betty and Archie as a possible couple (They never dated. Archie is actually a aromantic pansexual who does not do commitment) and realized that he made it all up and they have nothing in common.

Jughead and Betty get back together at the end of "Season 5" but Betty tells him that writing about their real life is what tore them apart, so he needs to not use their relationship in his writing anymore.

So Jughead decided to get weird and wildly experimental with his writing. And because Jughead is not a particularly good writer S6 and S7 are born.

Betty, absolutely running out of positive things to say about his last few writing attempts tells him that maybe these exaggerated versions of their lives that bear no resemblance to the real world have run their course, and he should try something new.

So Jughead wraps up this now unrecognizable series of writings and moves onto something new.

With Betty diligently serving as his editor. She got distracted with her new job and left him unattended for those last few seasons and look what happened.

Also I realize that Archie/Veronica/Cheryl/Toni are absent in this so briefly

Archie: He always was in awe of Archie and slightly jealous of what he perceived he had over Jughead...this is why he is the quasi-hero and also why he tortures Arch and treats him like an idiot.

Veronica: I cannot stress this enough. He and Veronica have no relationship. She is his friend's girlfriend and his girlfriend's best friend. The only thing he really knows about her is she is rich and hot. So he makes that her core personality and slaps on whatever traits fit her best for whatever plot he is writing at the time.

(This is also why almost all the women Veronica, Tabitha, Jessica, and Toni all are at some time his love interest. Self instert fan fic Jug. We see you.)

Cheryl/Toni: He and Toni are friends and Cheryl is her girlfriend who endlessly terrifies him. That is the core of her characterization.

I already regret the fact that I am sharing this long-winded mess with the world...but I can't take it back now.

Enjoy. And if you don't that is fine. It's my head canon not yours. Go make your own.

Have fun on finale night folks.

#rd spoilers #not really but for safety #head canon #this is a mess #but I stand by it #I didn't proof this and I'm a glass of wine in so be gentle

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do-it-jakey-baby · 2 months

Text

An Unlikely Encounter

Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Warnings: explicit sexual content, physical assault, profanity, drug use (smoking weed), alcohol consumption, tobacco use

18+, MINORS DNI

TAGLIST: @torniturntomyarrow @ignite-my-fire @hollyco

A/N: As always, please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list! I’d also love to hear your thoughts, how you’re finding the series so far and any feedback. 🫶🏻

Chapter 6

“Fucking hell, Y/N! How much shit are you taking with you?”

You look up at Kat, shooting her your dirtiest look possible. You’re sat cross legged on the floor of her bedroom, surrounded by piles upon piles of your belongings.

“I don’t want to get to Nashville and have left something important behind! It’s not like I can just nip home.” You scowl.

“Babe, we’re going to America, not the Bermuda Triangle. It wouldn’t be hard to find anything you need. Plus, Jake would move mountains for you if he could.” She snorts.

“What about you, anyway? Do you really need seven pairs of shoes?”

“You know I need to slay in public. Plus, we’re like, famous now.”

You both crack bewildered smiles at each other. She wasn’t wrong, both of you had been circulating online. You knew the boys were famous, but you didn’t expect their fanbase to be so… pap happy. What was the most interesting was how covert they were at snapping photos of you out and about. There was the odd moment where fans would approach the band and ask for photos, which they always willingly obliged with smiles on their faces. It was evident that they held such love in their hearts for their fans, it was never a chore to interact with them. The people you met were always so nice to you and Kat, too. Complimenting your outfits, telling you how pretty you were. It was quite a pleasant experience for the most part. There was, however, a small percentage that weren’t so happy you were dating Jake & Sam. Kat wasn’t bothered in the slightest, but you on the other hand were more susceptible to the discomfort. You were struggling with the sudden catapult into the limelight, but believed that your relationship with Jake was worth it.

“Right, I’m all done. Need any help fitting the kitchen sink into your suitcase?” Kat winks.

You celebrate the success of packing with a few bottles of wine and a Chinese takeaway. You and Kat curl up onto her sofa together and sink further and further into the bottles whilst you conceptualise the decisions that got you both to this point. By the end of the second bottle, you’re both slurring your words and collapsing into a fit of giggles.

“I know, let’s FaceTime them!” Kat sways, phone in hand.

The familiar ringer sounds twice and then Sam picks up, his face illuminating the screen.

“There’s my beautiful girl. Oh, girls! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Misssed you.”

“Y/N, did you miss me too?” Sam bats his eyelashes.

“Maybeee a bit, was hoping Jakey was with youuu.”

“Are you both drunk?” He chuckles.

“Noooooooooooo, why on earth would you think that.” Kat comically scratches her chin.

“I heard a very pretty voice saying my name.”

Jake edges into the shot, smirking down at the screen.

“Omygod I could just eat you up.” You breathe.

“Ewwwwwww, Y/N. Not in front of meee!” Kat screeches, jumping on top of you. You both cackle together until you’ve caught your breath.

“A hangover on a 9 hour flight isn’t my idea of a good time.” Jake laughs.

“We just wanted to see you one last timeeee.” You blow a kiss into the screen.

“You two get an early night, we’ll see you in just under 24 hours.” Jake instructs.

“See you soon!” Sam chimes in.

You all wave goodbye and Kat ends the call with an exaggerated yawn. You both plod into her room and collapse into bed, sleep finding you almost instantly.

The hangover gods have spared you today, as you both wake up fresh as a pair of daisies. You go over your itinerary once more, just to be extra safe, then load your bags into the back of the Uber. It was around a 45 minute drive to Heathrow, so you popped your headphones on and flicked through your playlists. Jake had been very secretive with your flight plans, telling you both that he’d scheduled the details to come through to your email 3 hours before your departure. You’d tried to argue with him, you liked to be in control and hated not being in the loop, but he wouldn’t budge. You both sat down to grab a coffee at one of the little Cafes within the airport when right on schedule, the email pinged through.

British Airways - Flight BA 244

Departing LHR at 1300 to BNA

Business Class Main Deck

Seat 13J

Seat 13K

“No fucking way, that’s why he was being so secretive!” You huff, rolling your eyes.

“What?”

“He’s booked us business class seats!”

“Fuck yeah!” Kat grins, punching the air.

“That must have cost a bomb!”

“Girl, will you quit it. He clearly wants his princess to be comfortable. Enjoy it, you deserve it.”

You’d seen TikTok videos of people sitting in business class, but you’d never for a second expected to experience it for yourself. Once you’d checked in, which was a breeze thanks to the dedicated area for business class ticket holders, you were ushered into a private lounge. Inside, there was a complimentary buffet with an insane selection of food and drink, plus Champagne chilling on ice and even a cocktail bar with an experienced mixologist on hand. When you boarded, you were taken to your seats and handed fluffy blankets and an amenity kit consisting of luxury toiletries, toothpaste and toothbrush, an eye mask, and socks. You both squealed in excitement every time you discovered something new, such as the noise cancelling headphones, or the fact that your seats fully transformed into beds. The most exciting thing of all though, was the Wi-Fi available on board. It meant that you could keep in contact with the boys whilst in the air, or so you thought. Sam and Josh seemed to keep in constant contact for the first few hours, but you hadn’t heard from Jake. Deciding it wasn’t worth worrying about, you settled in for the long haul. You and Kat had made it through a few films together, and scarfed down some dinner and dessert before you both passed out. By the time you woke up, the Stewardesses were making their rounds to ensure everyone was back upright and buckled in, ready to land. You shook Kat gently and she stirred, before removing her eye mask and wiping the drool from her face.

“Sleep well?” You laugh.

“Like a fucking baby.”

The landing was smooth as you touched down on Nashville soil. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins like white hot lava whilst you waited at luggage claim, it felt like hours had passed before the carousel started turning. As soon as you spotted your bags you sprinted over to them, not even stopping to make sure Kat was following your lead. You grab them both and almost topple over trying to drag them off by yourself. Kat finally makes her way over and retrieves her suitcase from you, then you both head towards pick up. Your hands felt clammy as you approached the crowds of people waiting for their loved ones. You scanned through the faces, until you found one that stuck out like a sore thumb. Josh. Next your eyes landed on Sam. You kept looking, craning your neck, but no one else was there.

Jake wasn’t there.

The room began to spin as you remembered how quiet he’d been during your flight.

Kat began to run over to the two, throwing her arms out and squealing as she squeezed the life out of both of them. You’d stopped in your tracks, still rooted to the same spot. The three of them whipped their heads round, Kat’s face one of confusion, the brothers both mirroring each other with looks of… sadness? Guilt? You couldn’t quite place it. You felt yourself starting to tear up, your mind a frenzy of thoughts. Where was he? Had he changed his mind? Did he regret asking you here?

You were brought back down to earth by a firm pair of hands grasping at your arms.

“Songbird.” Josh smiles, his brow slightly furrowed.

“Where-”

“We’ll explain, but please don’t worry. He wanted to be here more than anything in the world. We’re so happy to see you, sweet girl.” He pulls you into a tight embrace.

The ride to Josh’s place goes by in a blur, with you staring blankly out of the window for most of the journey. You were confused, and with no explanation, your thoughts were spiralling. Josh told you not to worry, but you couldn’t help it. Your boyfriend wasn’t there to pick you up from the airport in an unfamiliar territory, one he’d invited you to indefinitely. You expected to go back to Jake’s place, but were told that you’d be heading to Josh’s. You had asked where Danny was, but were met with grimaces exchanged between Josh and Sam. They promised they’d reveal all when you arrived.

You walked through the door to Josh’s house and set your bags down. It was a beautiful home that captured Josh’s personality perfectly. The interior was mostly white, with floor to ceiling glass windows, faux fur rugs and gold embellishments. His decor was extremely tasteful, it looked expensive but didn’t scream ‘I’m a rockstar who likes to flaunt my money’. Sam and Kat took a seat on one of the plush grey sofas, you opted to sit yourself alone on its twin. Josh exited the room briefly before returning with four glasses and a bottle of red wine. He filled your glass first, handing it to you and watching as you took a hearty gulp. Once he has filled the remainder of the glasses, he perches next to you and looks to his brother. Sam nods and Josh turns back to you, sighing.

“Jake… has had some problems over the last few hours.”

Your throat feels constricted, so you swallow thickly. When that doesn’t ease your discomfort, you opt for another gulp of pinot noir.

“Kate, his… ex-girlfriend decided to make a re-appearance early this morning.” He pauses, running a hand through his fluffy curls. “She’d seen photos of the two of you circulating online, Must have realised that you seemed serious. She tried to win him back over, saying she just wanted to talk and apologise for how awful she’d been to him. He let her in because he still had some of her things from when she left. He brought the box to her and began to explain that he had a new girlfriend, and that you were due to turn up in a few hours so she had to leave, and she lost her shit. Threw a glass vase at him. He called us after she left, when we got there he was struggling to stem the bleeding and was barely conscious. Danny took him to the ER, he told me I needed to stay here so I could pick you up. All he could talk about was you, about how upset he was, how he wanted to see you.”

“What the fuck. Josh, is he ok?! Please tell me he’s ok!” You choked back a sob, your eyes frantically searching Josh’s face for answers.

“He’s ok. Pretty shaken, with a nasty gash on his arm. He’s had to have stitches, but he’s fine.” Josh cups your face in his hand, wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb.

“Please can I see him?”

Jake and Danny had got back from the ER around an hour after you arrived at Josh’s. Jake understandably wasn’t up for guests after the incident, so Danny took him home. You parted ways with Kat, as she was due to stay with Sam. They both hugged you goodbye, then you headed off with Josh. As you entered through the door to Jake’s house behind Josh, you felt sick to your stomach. The lights were off, so Josh flicked them on and left your belongings in the corridor.

“I’m just going to find Jake, you hang tight.”

The house was a stark contrast to Josh’s, with everything in dark hues. Jake favoured mahogany over Josh’s love for pine, and his home was just as dark and mysterious as him. Walking into the house was like being surrounded by Jake, there was no doubt that this was his sanctuary. The ground floor was mostly open plan, with a large hallway spilling out into a kitchen. You found the light switch and flipped it, the room illuminating and revealing the horror hidden within the veil of darkness.

Blood.

Broken glass.

More blood.

You clapped your hand to your mouth as you took in the scene before you. The glass that once formed part of a heavy, ornate vase was thick - that explained the damage done… You were actually surprised it wasn’t worse. On the kitchen island you spot a bouquet of flowers clad in brown paper. They were astonishingly beautiful and comprised of all your favourite species; peonies, lavender, cornflowers, snowdrops, foxgloves, and a few sprigs of eucalyptus. You pick out the card that is tucked neatly into the folds of paper and open it.

My girl,

A thousand bouquets could never be enough for you, but for as long as I am alive I will continue to shower you with the most beautiful of petals. You are my sun, my moon, my stars. Thank you for coming to my home and filling it with your warmth.

All my love,

Jake

You clutch the card to your chest and let the tears that have formed in your eyes fall down onto your cheeks. A noise from the hallway startles you, causing you to lurch backwards in panic. You look up as Josh appears from the hall, his eyes widening at the scene before him.

“That fucking psycho bitch.”

He looks to you and notices the state you’re in, his face immediately softens and he extends his arms out to you.

“Oh, Songbird. I’m so sorry.”

You collapse into his arms as you weep into his chest, hot tears staining his crisp, white t-shirt.

“He wants to see you.” He whispers as he strokes your hair gently.

You pull back, peering at his face and managing a meek nod. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you through the hall and down a set of stairs. When he opens the door you’re met with a cosy basement, with a log burner crackling away on the far wall opposite you. A bar lines the left side, with plenty of expensive looking liquor embellishing the shelving. The right side is home to Jake’s instruments, his guitars hanging on the walls and on stands like the most prized of possessions, decorating the space with their charm. There’s a vintage looking record player sat proudly on top of a deep chestnut cabinet, with rows and rows of vinyls stacked intricately in stands. Jake sits in a brown leather arm chair in front of the log burner, a lit joint smoking away between his shaking fingers. His left forearm is bandaged and there are several smaller abrasions visible, scattered across the rest of his arms. Along his hairline, another cut can be seen, the blood now dried and clinging to his strands. He looks up at you, his lip wobbling. You can tell he’s been crying, his face slightly pink and puffy. You begin to make your way over to him, but slow down as you get closer. You’re afraid to trigger him with any quick movements, so you extend your hand to him, a silent plea for consent. His face falls, a tear slipping from his lashes and rolling down his cheek. He nods and you practically sprint the rest of the way, kneeling before him and carefully cupping his face in your hands.

“Jacob. I’m so sorry, baby.” A tear of your own falls, landing on the back of his hand.

“I-“ He begins, choking on his soft sobs. “I wanted today to be perfect. I’ve been dreaming of this day since my eyes first met yours. I can’t believe it’s been ruined. She’s stolen my happiness again.” He drops his head, succumbing to his emotions as the tears flow heavily down his perfect face.

“No. Don’t you say that. I’m here, she hasn’t ruined a thing. I’m here.” You softly nudge his chin back up, looking into his eyes as you speak. You press your lips to his and hope he believes you, that this moment hasn’t been taken from you both. He melts into your touch, kissing you back with a tenderness that steals the air from your lungs.

“Please don’t ever leave.”

You put Jake to bed after cleaning his face up, promising you’ll be back as soon as you’ve collected your things. Josh is stood in the kitchen, taking photos of the blood and glass that litters the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“Collecting evidence for the police report.”

“Is he going to press charges?”

“I don’t know, but he sure as hell should.” Josh snarls.

“Thank you for being there for me tonight.” You offer a small smile.

“Always, Songbird. I did it for you and for him. He knew how worried you’d be.”

You wrap your arms around him and he softens, rubbing his hands across your back.

“I’d do anything for you, I hope you know that.”

You peer up at him, his face inches from yours. His eyes flit from yours down to your lips. You inhale sharply, which causes him to pull back and awkwardly clear his throat.

“I’ll leave you to your evening. Take care of him, Songbird. Call me if you need me, I’m just up the road.”

With that, he hastily makes his exit.

What?

You walk across to the kitchen island and pull out a chair. Sitting there with your head in your hands, you re-hash the events of the day over and over.

I need a drink, or a cigarette. Or both.

You pull yourself down from the island, searching the cupboards for reprieve. Successfully finding a low ball and a carafe filled with what you assumed was either whiskey or dark rum, you pad over to the freezer to retrieve a few cubes of ice. You fill your glass and rifle through your carry on to find a packet of cigarettes and your lighter. You take a few moments to decide if you want to nurse your drink slowly or knock it back in one, then your eyes find the sliding door that leads to Jake’s back porch. You find the key hanging on a hook and let yourself out, perching on a wicker chair. You take a hearty gulp from your glass, sighing as the liquor burns down your oesophagus. You set it down on the table in front of you and pull a cigarette from the packet, lighting it and taking a long drag. You hold it for as long as you can, until your head feels all warm and fuzzy, then slowly blow the smoke from your lungs. All sense of time leaves you as you sit, chain smoking. You aren’t even aware of how long you’ve been sat out there until your phone buzzes, the screen lighting up your surroundings and pulling you from your thoughts.

Josh Kiszka: I hope you’re ok, Songbird. Thinking about you.

The butterflies in your stomach took you completely by surprise. You shook your head aggressively, internally berating yourself for the reaction.

He’s your boyfriend’s brother, Y/N! Get it together!

With that, you decided it was time to call it a night. You lock up and carry your bags up the stairs and into one of Jake’s spare rooms, not wanting to disturb him. You get undressed and put on a baggy t-shirt, then quickly wash your face and brush your teeth. You crawl into the spare bed and pull the covers over your weary body. It was uncomfortable, being in an unfamiliar bed by yourself. You toss and turn for around thirty minutes, not being able to find sleep. At around the fourty five minute mark, you give up and head for Jake’s room. You didn’t want to intrude, but you’d feel much better knowing he was next to you. You enter the room and his soft snores immediately calm you. You tiptoe carefully across to the bed, ensuring to be as quiet as possible. You pull the sheets back and slide in, positioning yourself so that you were facing him. He stirs slightly and you hold your breath, not wanting to wake him up. Still asleep, his hands reach for you.

“Mmmm, Y/N. I love you.”

You gasp softly, your eyes widening.

He’s sleeping, he doesn’t mean that.

He reaches again and pulls himself into you, his head resting between the crook of your neck. Sleep finds you soon after, with your mind finally at ease wrapped up in Jake.

Bzz bzz

You groan, rubbing your eyes to adjust to the light. You’re laid on your side, with Jake’s arms wrapped around your waist. He’s snuggled close into your back, his legs wrapped in yours. You wiggle forward slightly to grab your phone.

4 missed calls

5 texts

Three missed calls from Kat, one from Josh. All texts bar one were from Kat. You swipe up and reply to Kat.

Hey babe, I’m all good. Just woke up. Speak later?

You put your phone back on the nightstand and gently rub your fingers along Jake’s arm. He stirs and you take the opportunity to turn and face him, manoeuvring carefully to avoid his injuries. His eyes slowly open and his gaze fixes on you.

“Hey, good morning. Did you sleep ok?” You ask.

“Better than I thought I would. Guess that has something to do with you being here.” He tilts his head down and plants a kiss on your forehead, then pulls you in close to him, wrapping his arms around you.

“Thank you for coming, I’m sorry-”

You put your finger up to his lips. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

He looks down at your finger and presses a kiss to it. You smile at him, then his hands find the back of your head and he crashes his lips onto yours. The kiss is passionate and hungry, filled with lust and want. He brings one hand to your waist and another to your thigh and pulls you into him, his knee slotting into your crotch. You moan gently as he makes contact with your core.

“Jake…”

“Mmmm.” He breathes in between sloppy kisses, trailing down your neck.

“Not now.”

He stops and looks at you, defeated and confused.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. Fuck, I want to. But you’ve been through so much, and you’re hurt.”

“Please.” He whimpers. “I need you, please.”

That’s all it takes for you to give in, and he’s right back on you. Clawing at your shirt, he can’t seem to get it off fast enough. He palms at your bare breasts, then takes your nipple into his mouth. You arch your back at the sensation of his tongue lapping over your sensitive bud.

“You’re really here, in my bed. In my house. I can’t believe it.” He whispers, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your panties.

“I am.”

He flips himself on top of you and discards your underwear on the floor, then drags his fingers through your already slick folds. One thing Jake never fails to do is make you incredibly wet before he’s even started. He begins his assault on your pussy, plunging his fingers in and out, then circling them around your clit. Your moans bounce off the walls as your orgasm quickly creeps up on you, with every sound you make his fingers move faster. He licks a stripe from your collarbone to your ear, sucking the tender skin into his mouth.

“Fuck, Jakeeee.” You whine.

“Cum for me, angel. Cum right on my fingers. Tell me how good it feels.”

“It feels.. it feels so- oh! Fuck!”

Your legs begin to shudder as you let go, the crashing waves of your orgasm engulfing you in pure ecstasy.

When you float down from your high, Jake is lining himself up with your entrance. You move your hand to stop him and he looks down at you, his brows knitting together.

“I think you deserve a thank you now.” Your eyes bore into his and blacken with lust. He looks like a deer in headlights as he nods at you. You motion for him to swap places with you, then you crawl on top of him, rising up onto your knees and sliding down onto him. His face contorts as he bottoms out inside you, pulling his lip between his teeth with a sharp inhale.

“Baby, fuck. You feel so good.”

You start to move your hips in a slow figure of eight. Jake’s hands find your hips and he digs his fingers into the meaty flesh. You lift yourself up and slam down onto him, the tip of his cock knocking against your cervix. You squeeze as you lift back up again, eliciting a hiss from his mouth. You bounce yourself up and down, relishing in the sound of his soft panting and whining. He uses his leverage on your hips to drive up and meet you as you ride him. You throw your head back and lift your hands up cup your breasts.

“I’m gunna cum, shit!” He cries, looking up at you with his perfect, fucked out face.

“Fill me up baby.”

He groans loudly as his cock twitches inside you, still driving up into you to reach his release. The sound of his pleasure fills the room, tipping you over the edge as your walls flutter around him, constricting and pulsing as his cum spurts out into you. You catch your breath and lean down to press your lips to his, then excuse yourself to the bathroom to clean up and brush your teeth, before taking the space next to him in his bed once more.

“Is that what you wanted?” You smirk.

“All I wanted and more, you’re incredible.”

You offer him a shy smile, still not used to being showered in his compliments.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” You ask, running your hand softly across his arm.

His face noticeably falls, pain searing across his eyes.

“Uhh.. I-” He’s cut off swiftly by the buzzing off his phone. He rolls his eyes and picks up the device, frowning as he peers at the screen. He answers and begins to move out of the room, but you manage to catch the first sentence of the conversation.

Good morning, my name is PD Martinez. I’m calling from the Metropolitan Nashville Police Department. Am I speaking Jacob Kiszka?

You take a deep breath, wringing your hands nervously as you wait for Jake to finish the phone call. When Jake re-enters the room, he’s visibly pissed off.

“Fucking Josh, calling the fucking police.” He mutters, raking his hands through his hair and pacing the room.

You stand and begin to try to soothe him.

“Baby, he’s just being a good brother and looking out for you…”

He whips his head toward you, fury blazing in his eyes. “I don’t need him to look out for me, I don’t need him to call the fucking police. This situation is stressful as it is without a fucking investigation happening in my home. I just want to forget about it!”

He storms out of the room and into the hallway, you follow behind him as he hot foots down the stairs and into the kitchen. He stops just before he reaches the blood and glass still tainting the hardwood flooring, before stepping over it and knocking a fruit bowl that sits on the island flying, smashing into smithereens before him. He drops to the floor, his head in his hands. You aren’t sure what to do, and in true Y/N panic mode you dash back up to the bedroom and grab your phone, hitting dial on Josh’s number. He answers after two rings.

“Morning, Song-”

“Josh, please come over. Now.”

“I’ll be there in 5.”

True to his word, 5 minutes later he’s rushing through the door. You steer him into the kitchen, where Jake is still sat on the floor.

“Brother, what’s going on?”

Jake looks up slowly, his expression vacant. He stares at Josh for a few moments, before inhaling deeply.

“Why did you call the police?”

“Uh, because your ex-girlfriend assaulted you, Jake.” Josh huffs, clearly baffled by the question.

“Do you not think that should have been my decision to make?!” Jake glares, his nostrils flared.

Josh digs around in his pockets and pulls out a tin. He opens it, extracting a pre-rolled blunt, and passes it to Jake.

“Come on, go down to the basement and chill out for five minutes.”

The three of you pile into the basement, Josh starts up the wood burner then joins you and Jake on the armchairs in front. Jake wastes no time lighting up the blunt, toking it harshly. After a few drags, he offers it to you. You’d smoked when you were younger, but hadn’t gotten high in over ten years. Regardless, in that moment you gratefully accepted it. The first toke elicits a chesty cough from your lungs, so you pass it to Josh whilst you recover. You all sit in silence, passing the blunt until there’s nothing left to share.

“Now we’re all nicely medicated, can we talk about this like adults?” Josh points towards Jake. He rolls his eyes, but motions for Josh to continue.

“I did what I thought, and what I still believe is best in this situation. Not only did her actions land you in the ER, but they also worried Y/N. It’s inexcusable behaviour and she needs to be taught a lesson.”

You nod, silently agreeing with Josh’s words. Jake sighs, rubbing his chin.

“I get it, thank you for making the call for me when I couldn’t.”

“Are you going to press charges?”

“I think so…”

The next few days are spent in almost constant police presence. The officers were keen to get in and assess the damage as soon as possible, so that Jake could get his kitchen cleaned up and begin to heal from the event. The police took tapes of the CCTV which covered the entrances to Jake’s house, along with the ER department report on his injuries. They took a statement from Jake, Josh, Danny and Sam, with the promise to be in touch. The entire ordeal had done a number on Jake, he was exhausted both physically and mentally. By the end of the first week, things were starting to look up, and Jake seemed to have a new lease of life.

“So, angel. I’ve been thinking, how about we pretend today is your first day in Nashville ans I take you out to dinner?”

“I would love that, Jakey.” You giggle, pulling him into an embrace.

You take your time getting ready, ensuring your hair and makeup are pristine. You give yourself a bouncy bow out, your hair cascading in shiny ribbons down your back. You slip on a black silky, tight-fitting dress which hugs your curves in all the right places, and opt for a deep red lipstick to tie the look together. As you’re perched on the bed slipping on your heels, Jake walks into the room. He’s dressed in all black too, matching your aesthetic perfectly. His black linen shirt is, of course, only buttoned a quarter of the way, showcasing his signature silver pendants which sparkle against his tanned chest. A black blazer adorns his shoulders, his hair falling down onto them in tousled waves against the crisp fabric. His trousers cling to the muscle on his thighs, which makes your mouth water slightly.

“You look amazing, Jake.”

He steps to you and pulls you up onto your feet, twirling you around to get a 360 view of your outfit. “Says the most beautiful woman on the planet. You look positively edible, angel.”

“You can eat me whenever you want.” You wink, snatching the lapels of his blazer in your fists and capturing his lips in a kiss.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” He breathes.

He drives you to the restaurant which is about fifteen minutes down the road, his hand never leaving your thigh. Once you’ve parked up, he exits the vehicle and walks around to your side, opening the door and extending his hand. The restaurant is probably one of the most extravagant settings you’ve ever dined in, far beyond your usual price range. The decor is almost vintage-looking, with small lanterns embellishing each table, adding to the chic ambience. When you’re shown to your table, he pulls your chair out for you, then sits down and envelopes your hands in his, bringing one to his face and kissing your knuckles. He orders Champagne for the table and you clink your glasses together, a toast to your adventures in the States. The three course meal is absolutely stunning, and undoubtedly the best food you’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting. You chat the entire time about your plans, how excited Jake is to have you at his home, and the next leg of the band’s tour which is due to commence in 4 weeks’ time. When you’re finished, Jake pays the bill and you make your way home. You walk through the door to Jake’s house and breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that things are finally beginning to take a turn for the better. You were so excited to spend some quality time with Jake, and for him to show you around. He’d spoken about the possibility of a trip to Frankenmuth, which you were quite nervous about. Meeting Jake’s parents was a daunting thought, but he assured you that they would adore you as much as he does.

You begin to settle in for the evening, slipping into your pyjamas and starting your skincare routine. Your phone buzzes on the bathroom counter as you’re finishing up.

Unknown Caller

You wonder who it could be, but take no chances of missing something important, so you answer and bring your phone up to your ear.

“Are you really in fucking America with him?!” The voice growls from the other end.

“Who- who is this?”

“You really are a disgusting little groupie whore, aren’t you. Running off to the other side of the world like a love sick puppy after a man who will drop you once he’s had his fill.” Pure venom drips from the tongue of the caller, their words coated in malice.

“… Connor, is that you?! You fucking stalker freak!” You scream.

“Clearly my little Instagram account hasn’t deterred you enough, you fucking slut.”

His little Instagram account?…

You drop your phone into the sink as your knees go weak beneath you.

He’s @exposingjake.

#jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake greta van fleet #jake lane #jacob thomas kiszka #jaket kiszka #greta van fic #jacob kiszka #jake gvf smut #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka x you #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka greta van fleet #jake kiszka x reader #jacob kiszka smut #an unlikely encounter

20 notes · View notes

the-90s-music-colosseum · 7 months

Text

Round 4 Match 4

propaganda below the cut! (massive wall of text warning)

Miki Berenyi:

"shes the most beautiful woman i have ever seen. her hair is amazing and she's just gorgeous idk what else to say or how to fathom her beauty"

"I met miki berenyi a few weeks ago and shes the coolest and nicest person I've ever met so down to earth and nice and lovely which imo makes her incredibly hot"

"Founding mother of Shoegaze"

"I want to hold miki so tenderly and tell her jokes that make her laugh like we’re childhood friends and have a sleepover where we do each others makeup and then fuck so nasty the neighbors get alarmed and debate with each other whether or not to call the cops"

Brian Molko:

"Gender"

"IM GOING TO EAT HER. He is soooo beautiful and freakish and small and weird and girlfriend and tiny like a little princess bug fairy. Literally gorgeous she has to win"

"When he flipped over the table with the little limp wrist.... someone find the video"

"1998 woman of the year"

"Brian Molko is peak gender envy, gender bending and being yourself without caring about other people's opinion, on top of all that he is a great guitarist that writes amazing songs"

"Brian’s gonna win this. I think we all kinda know that."

"Tumblrinas would be nothing without Brian molko"

"Kills her kills her kills her kills her kills her kills him kills her. He's my everything <3"

"He came 10th in the list of hottest women sometimes in the 90s. Gender goals."

"No one in the world can sound so nasal and look so angelic....."

"don't you wish you had his gender"

"Single-handedly took my gender by the scruff of the neck and threw it in a washing machine at full speed. He talked about not expecting to "get away with" passing as a woman to the degree that he did when he started purposely presenting feminine. He talked about the importance to fuck with people's heads through his appearance and behaviour, the importance of ambiguity. About how being in the band allowed him to do stuff he couldn't have done otherwise, to exaggerate some of his traits. He had the fuck ass bob makeup nail polish dresses stuff down, but not in an overly sophisticated way, especially in the early career 90s days the vibe was more shabby punk rock chick. Also he fantasized about being in an all-girl band called Skirt and playing guitar and singing backing vocals in drag. According to a 1997 melody maker interview bandmate steve hewitt called him "the most confused woman he's ever known". And if you go down that rabbit hole there's just more of this. Lots of material to focus on if you like genderweird bisexual unclean libertines (song ref) who will just say Anything in interviews. It's fun."

"I've drawn him as saints and martyrs such as saint sebastian and joan of arc. Or all bloody lying in a wet alley after being thrown out of a club. Or unconscious on a snowy road. Or dying in a glue trap. Or shocked after seeing a dead body. Also as a nun and as rose mcgowan in the doom generation. This is because I'm normal."

"She's a sick little angel faced freak. My theythem girlboy queen. He reminds me of an ant. He's like 5 foot 4 or something. My goth girl boyfriend. <3"

#most attractive 90s musician #poll #polls #90s music #tournament #miki berenyi #lush #brian molko #placebo

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lesbianspirirt · 8 months

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My Manifestation Success

As the title says, I've had a very clear success with manifesting my desires! I'm so excited and grateful and just really want to share this with someone to hopefully motivate others<3

Not too long ago, I started actively manifesting through affirming my desires in a notebook and recently realized that I got my results almost immediately! I wrote about how pretty I am, and now I get compliments all the time. I wanted to be popular and now I have a big friend group and people wanting to be friends with me! I wanted to get a girlfriend and the girl I've been crushing on for not even a month started being more straightforward with her interest. Also, important note on the popularity one: I used to be the loneliest of lonely losers for almost all of elementary and only had like 2 friends in junior high and now I've got over a dozen people who actually enjoy talking to me.

I almost can't believe that this is my life, but it's basically impossible to believe that it used to be so different.

And for those that want to know how I did it, here are the steps that I took to get what I desired<3

write a clear list of what you want the most, my list was a girlfriend, lots of friends, good grades, beauty, popularity, and money

take your list and organize your affirmations positively! meaning, dedicate a whole page to affirmations related to one of your desires and title it something like "I'm so beautiful!" or "My life is so romantic!"

put in the work; listen to subliminals, meditate, visualize, etc

don't fight the universe! even if you put all your energy into manifesting something like popularity, you can't also push away the people who are being guided to you. I get that sometimes your desires and what you're familiar with are as similar as night and day, but like anything else in life, you need to push out of your comfort zone!

now you just need to live your life

other things i did that helped! 1. used affirmations that are almost exaggerated, some examples being: -I'm the most beautiful person to ever exist! -I'm so popular, people beg to be friends with me!

2. wrote affirmations on paper and in pen to be closer connected to the affirmations and symbolically make them 'stronger'

3. used guided manifestation meditations

4. didn't force myself to meditate and affirm every day! especially if I didn't feel like doing it

I hope my post was helpful or at least a little motivational for someone lol <3

#desired reality #manifesting #manifestation #manifest #manifestation success #law of assumption #affirm and persist #manifestation method #manifestation motivation

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kiirotoao · 11 months

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07/07/2023: Happy Byler Day!

In celebration, here’s a countdown list of my top 7 Byler details/moments!

7. Eggs and syrup (s1e1 and s3e1)

This detail is pretty easily overlooked, especially considering that it’s present for only two blinks throughout the show, but it’s one of my favorites. In fact, this detail was one of the first Byler facts that got me to ship Byler. The representation of the unconventional breakfast pairing for the show’s quote-unquote unconventional relationship pairing is just too perfect. I love this silent emphasis of their queerness together.

6. At it again (s3e5)

I don’t have a proper title for this moment, haha, but I can quote this scene from memory and just. Have to say it along with Byler. Every single time I rewatch 😭. The drama. The shouted whispers. Mike’s idiocy. Will’s sass. It’s glorious. It’s beautiful. And, best of all, it hurts way less than the rain scene, which is a win for me. Also, I love how these two fought really badly literally a day ago, but then they come around to arguing like a true married couple again because they can’t help but gravitate to one other.

5. “Crazy together” (s2e2)

Ah, the Byler staple. Now, this scene got me to put Byler on my radar when I first watched the show, so I have to give it a top 7 spot, for sure. Also, just, this scene is so tender and sweet. What a lovely way to show how sometimes the best relationships are made through sharing the worst times in your life. It really does help to have someone to confide in through awful situations, and this scene heartwarmingly highlights that. Additionally, their youth and innocence taking on this trauma together is what gets me every single time. Byler are so strong for each other, and it shines so brightly, here. It’s plain endearing.

4. The heart-to-heart apology (s4e4)

This scene is literally the pinnacle of Byler’s unspoken love, and the flirtation is off the charts. It’s just so, so lovely, and the atmosphere is simply wonderful and fit to make you forget you’re watching a thriller show. The flirting itself is all that I need to spotlight for this scene, and truly, I don’t have to say anything about it, do I? This moment just speaks for itself.

3. The shed scene (s2e8)

When making this list, I was torn between 3 and 4, but I ended up putting the shed scene at the top 3 because Mike’s speech here absolutely wrecked me the first time I watched it. The tears, the transparency, the traction despite Will being unable to utter a word in reply. I also just made a kinda long-winded grammatical analysis on the phrase above: “it was the best thing I’ve ever done” and how soft and adorable it is to say, and I cannot describe how close to tears I was, too, when watching this scene, like Will was. How often do you hear your best friend pleading for your life by talking about how you changed theirs? This moment is so sweet.

This moment is also somewhat unprompted, drawn from the rawest recollection of Mike’s mind, coupled with the desperation, it brings out how truly important this moment is for Mike. And the fact that this speech seems to prompt Will’s Morse code tapping makes it all the better for us to know that Mike’s message was very likely received. This scene is simply so tender. It is Mike and Will in their most exposed forms all season long, maybe even ever, for Mike (because I think that the van scene might be Will’s, but let’s not worry about that right now, this is a happy post 🙈).

2. “Not possible.” (s3e8)

I wish I was exaggerating when I say that Mike’s little smile in this scene changed my brain forever. Well, maybe I don’t care that I wasn’t exaggerating, actually. This scene is unapologetically adorable. It’s not as flirtatious as the s4e4 heart-to-heart apology, not as lengthy as the “crazy together” scene, not as clearly pivotal as the s1 opener, but it’s chock full of implicit love.

I love how Mike and Will communicate through dnd, particularly how they talk about the game differently apart from other Party members, and that’s the kicker that I love about this scene. Usually, Mike especially as we’ve seen throughout seasons 1-3, dnd is referenced with a sense of leadership about the Upside Down, used as a tool for knowledge with others. But between Mike and Will, here? They use it as a tool for their relationship, which is such a wonderful contrast to show how much Mike and Will mean to each other. And what’s more, Mike brings up this analogy, first, singling out Will and how special he is to Mike.

“What if you join another party?” It’s a simple question, and at face value, it sounds like, ‘what if you find another friend group without me? What if you move on?’ Which I think it is asking, but it’s also, ‘what if you move on from me?’ And Will’s quick and faithful reply, “not possible” is all we need to hear to know that Will is going to carry Mike’s love with him no matter what. Topped with cute glances each other’s way and a quickly leaving Will to let the emotion wordlessly simmer, this tiny flirt holds my heart.

1. The season-episode parallels

If this detail looks familiar, it’s because I’ve talked about this one before. And, yeah, looking at it a lot more over the past year, I gotta say that it’s my favorite thing about Byler.

It is such an interesting detail, and basically, it’s the way that the episodes of s1e1, s2e2, s3e3, and s4e4 all have pertinent Byler moments, arguably the most important Byler moments per season that kickstart a lot of the show, and every single scene has so many little details that they share. Mike on the left, Will on the right. Will’s honesty, Mike’s unawareness. The clothing. The alternating lighting. It’s been my favorite parallel to talk about on all platforms I’m active on, and so I crown this one as my winner. It’s such a loaded parallel, and it’s everything in my niche that I love to talk about as it covers so much of the show and Byler, from the bigger details of how it affects the show down to the smaller details of lighting, clothing, and coloring.

And also, this parallel inspired me to make my TikTok account and dedicate it to Byler. Then one thing led to another, and so this detail is kinda the reason why I’m here on Tumblr, too. So I owe it a lot, haha.

The season-episode parallel reminds me that I’m not alone or ‘looking into it too much,’ and even if this is all a coincidence, it’s a damn good one.

Thanks for reading, and Happy Byler Day, again! Now, go forth and enjoy more posts!

#byler #byler day #byler analysis #byler brainrot #byler is endgame #will byers #mike wheeler #<3 #hehe scheduled this for Fri the 7th at 7:07 AM #bylerday #bylerday2023

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acourtofinkandpapyrus · 5 months

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Shallow Waters: Part One (PirateRhysand x Reader)

Warnings: Arranged marriage, toxic family, swearing, drinking

Tag list:

Being the only daughter of Beron, you are expected to marry someone and be the perfect example of elegance. You've managed to make yourself completely undesirable to the other royalty, until one of the worst males visit for a party...

I walk down the gilded halls of our fathers castle on my twin brother’s arm, trying to keep a pretty smile plastered onto my face as some lord and lady I don’t recognise pass us.

My brother Lucien was born first, a relatively easy birth in comparison to mine.

I was out second, and our mother almost died giving birth to me. My father has hated me ever since then, and most of my other brothers never let me forget it.

“This gathering of male’s that our father’s planning, you know he expects you to leave with an engagement, correct?” Lucien asked once the couple was out of ear shot.

My lips quirked up into a smile. Lucien was always worried about me, taking the over protective brother stereotype to new heights.

“Oh, you know that none of those fools will be leaving that room with any intention to take me as their wife. No, not Y/n the terrible.” I tease, elbowing him.

I had earned the nickname after my father had hosted a ball, hoping to pawn me off onto some influential family.

That night I had made sure to heckle, bother, and step on everyone’s toes.

I also drank so much that I vomited on one of my brothers.

Now that was a fun night.

Lucien didn’t laugh as he normally would though. “I know you think yourself invincible sister, but father is growing impatient, and I’m worried.”

I roll my eyes, but don’t bother to comment, instead, asking him quietly, “Talking about marriage, when are you and Jesminda going to tie the knot?”

Lucien’s eyes went wide as he quickly scanned around, making sure no one heard me before he hissed in a low voice, “We don’t talk about her in the castle, you know that.”

I shrugged, grinning. “That’s not an answer brother.”

He sighed wearily. “ We don’t have any plans for the immediate future. If father found out about us-”

Rolling my eyes, I let out an exaggerated sigh. “You need to worry less about father and more about living!” I exclaim throwing my arms out to emphasize my point.

I knew the importance of keeping their relationship hidden, but still, I hated seeing my brother fretting about it all the time.

His eyes narrowed. “I know you’ve had your flings, but you don’t know what it’s like to love someone deeply yet. And when you do, you’ll realize that you’ll worry less about ‘living’ as you put it, and more about keeping that other person safe.”

His speech makes me yawn, and he scowls.

“Are you even listening to me?” He inquired.

“Nope!” I say, picking up my skirts and turning down an adjacent hall, running awkwardly in my heels as I shouted over my shoulder, “I’ll see you around Lucy, and you better have an answer next time I see you!”

I giggled as I ran away, hearing him mutter a curse as I did. He hated that nickname.

As I walk, I gasp as I see my friend, Alis, who I was told would be visiting from the summer court.

“Alis! It’s been forever! I didn’t know you’d arrive so soon!” I exclaim, rushing up to her and taking her bark like hands into mine as I grin with glee. “I was told your ship had been delayed! Something about harsh storms on the sea?” I question, taking her arm as she gives me a soft grin, the both of us walking through the halls as we spoke.

“Actually, if you truly want to know, it was pirates.” Alis whispered, smiling softly as my face split into a ridiculously wide grin.

“Pirates?! That’s so cool!” I exclaim, shaking her slightly. “You have to tell me everything. Were they ruffians? How many tattoos did they have? Did they fly a black flag like the stories claim?”

Alis shushed me, laughing softly. “It was strange. Some of them were tattooed, yes. And they flew a black flag, but for thieves they were actually quite polite.”

I groan, and Alis looks at me curiously.

“Boring!” I exclaim with frustration, making Alis chuckle.

“If I were a pirate, I would swear and drink and cause havoc wherever I went!” I say holding up my arm as if I was holding a sword.

“Lady Y/N!” I hear one of my father’s advisors admonish, and I roll my eyes.

“Sorry Alis, it looks like I’m about to be lectured once again about how a proper lady should behave. I’ll see you later?” I ask, and she nods.

“I have a date with Kendrick anyway.” She says, and I smile as she turns away.

Those two were mates, and I envied her a bit. I would love to be whisked away by my mate, loved and free of my wretched father.

“Y/N!” The advisor shouted again, and I rolled my eyes as I turned, making my way over to the stout man.

I sit perfectly still as the maids braid my straight red hair into plaits that would wrap around my head as my father paced behind us.

“Y/N, I am in no mood for your antics tonight. You will act like a proper lady. You will court the males that arrive tonight, and find a husband among them.” He spoke, his syllables clipped as he came up behind me, the maids clearing away as he placed his hands on my shoulders, meeting my eyes in the vanity mirror.

“One way or another, you are going to be out of my house by the end of this year, do you understand?” He snarled, and I nodded, trying to hold back a smile.

What he didn’t realize was that was exactly what I wanted. I wanted to leave.

“Yes father.” I murmur demurely, and he turns away, scoffing.

“You are a disgrace to this family. Try not to bring any more shame on our good name tonight girl.” He snapped, leaving the room in a huff.

Oh, I was going to make him regret that I’d ever been born.

Actually, he already did that.

I was going to make him regret that he’d ever been born.

I entered the ball room, making sure to have worn a dress meant for dining instead of dancing. It was a mistake only little children made, and usually was the cause for laughter.

But I wasn’t a child.

I searched for Lucien, but didn’t see him.

I sigh, deciding to make my way to the refreshment table. Because right now was the perfect time to get black out drunk.

“How are you dear sister?” Eris asked, planting himself next to me at the table, already sipping on a goblet of wine.

Snatching his goblet and downing it in one swig, I responded a moment later. “It’s as if the mother herself has decided to make my life miserable.” I mutter.

I never had much faith, but I see Eris’s lips twist into a sort of smile, even as I get dirty looks from the other males nearby.

I snort, and he hums.

“I’m guessing you plan to spite both her and your father tonight?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

Giving a little shrug, I hand him back his empty cup. “You mean our father. Just because you don’t like him, doesn’t mean he isn’t. Or else he would have no children.”

Eris nods. “Of course I meant our father.”

Something’s off about his tone, but I don’t get the chance to inspect it as I feel another figure appear at my side.

I look over, and feel a shiver go down my spine as I see a tall male with black hair wearing a bone white suit.

He was handsome I guess, but he didn’t have a face you could really spot in a crowd. The only thing that struck me were his black eyes, cunning with emotions I couldn’t read swirling in them.

My stomach gave an unpleasant twist as he smiled at me.

“Care for a dance my lady?” He asked, not sounding kind. He sounded like a predator who had cornered their prey.

I shrug, picking up another goblet, swirling it as I respond sharply, “I’m not wearing the proper dress for it.”

He doesn’t smile, get angry, or show any emotion at all as he just stares at me in response.

“Do you like it here?” He asks, his head tilting a little bit.

I shift uncomfortably, realizing where this male is from.

Not many things are known about Hybern, but what does travel past their borders is terrifying.

“It’s better than some places.” I say, the remark coming out as more cutting than I meant it.

This is where he starts to smirk. “We’ll see.” He says simply before pushing away, disappearing quickly into the crowd.

I have a bad feeling that that will not be the last I see of that unknown male.

I manage to make an absolute disaster of the ball, and by the end I can feel my father’s flaming eyes burrowing into my back as I leave, swishing my hips as I swagger away.

I am completely drunk, and I half hate it as I stumble back to my room.

I hate that I have to degrade myself like this to stay free.

As I stumble down the hall, I see Lucien outside of my door, looking frantic.

“Lucy?” I slur, running into a wall as I made my way towards him.

He rushed over to me, helping me into my room.

“Luce, what’s wrong?” I ask as he lays me down on the bed.

He starts to speak, but I don’t hear what he says as I’m pulled into a deep sleep.

I woke up the next morning with a horrible headache, groaning as I tried to roll out of bed.

Damn hangovers, they lasted longer than the parties.

A knock on my door had me flopping back into bed, calling out, “Enter at your own risk!”

I was surprised to see that it was Eris at my door, even more surprised to see a worried look on his face instead of his normal sneer.

He quickly stepped into the room, shutting and locking the door behind him. “You should really remember to lock your doors at night.” He snapped, turning to glare at me as I kicked the covers off.

There was the brother I knew, but I could still tell that there was something off about him, a panicked sort of energy radiating from his form.

I yawned, rubbing at my eyes as I stood. I ignored him as I headed over to the windows, throwing the curtains open.

Eris cursed and ran over, quickly pulling them shut again. “Get dressed. Now.” He shouts, throwing the bag he had brought with him into my arms.

“Wait! What’s going on?” I ask, my stomach twisting as I realize that he’s serious.

He pulls my drawers open, sorting out clothes. “Apparently your normal ruse didn’t work. You’re officially engaged.”

If I wasn’t awake, I am now. “What?” I snarl, grabbing him by his collar and pulling him away from the ornate cabinet.

He scowls, snapping, “Beron’s quite pleased, considering the groom is the King of Hybern.”

I let him go out of shock, opening my mouth to ask more questions but we’re interrupted by a stiff knock on my door.

Eris’s shoulders slump almost imperceptibly. “Too late.”

I curse myself, move over to the door, waving Eris off into my closet.

He looks offended, but I don’t wait for him to argue, unlocking the door and pulling it open with a more than nasty look plastered on my face.

The two guards there look a little uncomfortable as I stare them down in my nightgown.

The larger one shifts uncomfortably, while it’s the smaller skinner that speaks, his voice nasally. “We are here to escort you to your new quarters ma’am.” He says, narrowing his eyes as he tries to peer around me into my room.

I move to block his vision. “Hasn’t anyone told you that it’s rude to wake a female so early, or doesn’t my father’s personal guard have any manners?”

His face grew red as he stammered out, “M-Ma’am please. We must es-”

“No.” I snap, holding my head high as I eye both of the males. “You both will wait out here patiently while I pack my belongings, then you can explain to me why I’m suddenly expected to move.”

I slam the door and lock it, turning back to see a annoyed Eris quietly exit my closet.

We stare at each other for a moment in silence. There was no other way out of this unless I wanted to climb out of the window and break my neck, the room being on the highest floor.

Though, it did sound better than marrying a male known for his cruelty.

Instead of doing that though, I go to my cupboards, picking up where Eris left off.

He only stares at me for a moment, only moving to help me once I started throwing clothes at him.

I look around my new room, aware that the two guards who escorted me are still right outside, making sure I didn’t make a run for it.

There’s another knock on the door, and I roll my eyes, walking over and throwing the door open.

My annoyance fades as I see Lucien standing there, his eyes wide with worry, his outfit and hair disheveled, like he rolled out of bed and ran straight over.

I open the door wider for him, and he shoots a glare at the smaller guard before stalking in.

I shut the door, whirling around before he can say anything. “I already know, and trust me, I have no plans on marrying some tyrant.”

He pauses, shoulders stiffening. “You’ve always made that clear. What are you planning to do to avoid father marrying you off this time?”

I studied him for a moment, the sudden shift in demeanor and the way he asked the question.

My eyes go wide. “You don’t know?” I ask in disbelief.

I assumed everyone would know by now.

He notices the way I ask, and is quick to ask, “Know what?”

I shake my head, remembering how worried he looked when he entered. “You tell me why you're here first.” I demand.

His eyes don’t move from mine as he speaks. “I heard the King of Hybern is going to stay here for a few nights, his patrols have been everywhere.”

“Now what don’t I know?” He asks, crossing his arms.

I resist the urge to play it off with humor or ignore the question all together, and instead grit out, “Father is marrying me off. Soon.”

His upper lip twitches, threatening to turn into a snarl. “Who?”

I glare at him. “My true love. Who the fuck do you think dumbass?”

Normally he would scold me for speaking so harshly, but instead his face darkens.

“You’re not marrying him.” He snarls, and I give him a nasty smile.

“Yeah, no shit.”

He can see that I’m internally panicking, and after a moment of consideration, he walks over, pulling me into a tight hug.

“We’re going to get you out of here.”

I don’t know what to say, so I just nod, hugging him back.

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